Ayla actually really appreciated Fred apologizing. Not that he had actually embarrassed her, of course not. It also didn't matter that sorry was practically the second most uttered word out of Fred's mouth. It was just nice. A lot of guys wouldn't have even noticed let alone apologized.

She winced a bit at his suggested to throw it off the astronomy tower. She knew he was just being nice but she couldn't actually bring herself to part with it. Much like the necklace she currently wore tucked under her vest. It had been a birthday present from the same guy, given moments before he broke up with her. Actually now that she thought about it, she owned a lot of jewelry given to her by guys who had broken her heart. All of which she had grown attached to.

She stopped in her tracks when he told her she was wrong. She turned to look at him as he further explained, which really just dug the hole deeper. Her eyes grew wide and she had actually paled. Guys thought she was hot but she was hard to talk to because she was good at Quidditch.

Ayla stared at him dumbstruck for a few moments, "are you intimidated by me?" The entire concept seemed preposterous. Ayla Collins, five foot nothing, a hundred and twenty pounds soaking wet, intimidating. The whole thing just didn't compute, "Wait . . . which guys say I'm fit?"  She wasn't going to go asking about specific guys but if a certain Slytherin or Ravenclaw (whom she totally was not still into) came up that would be a win, right?

 She stopped in the middle of the hallway.  Bloody hell.  What had he done now?!  He was just trying to be helpful.  He was probably going to get hexed.  At least he knew it would be a hex that would have an easy countercurse though… not like anything Isla might throw at anyone at any given moment. 

And of course she was intimidating!  She was staring at him right now and he felt like she might kill him.  “Um… I mean… yea, you are right now.” He tried to smile, but it ended up probably looking more like a gassy baby.  He sort of felt like a gassy baby, but without the gas part.  That would have been really mortifying. 

Reaching up to pick at the back of his neck (a nervous habit), he was glad she didn’t hex him but he was not excited about her question.  Oh man.  He had to rat out his friends?  This couldn’t go well.   Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything at all, it was like… definitely something that came up in the dorms, but maybe it wasn’t his place to say anything.  He was too deep in it though. 

“Just some of the other fifth years,” he shrugged awkwardly, “a couple of the sixth years too,” he pointed out.  “But I mean, it’s not that they don’t like you, obviously, I just said that, but you know… I just think that you’re really smart and you do sports,” he explained lamely, “That’s not helpful, is it?” 

If it was at all possible Ayla's dumbstruck expression intensified. Nothing Fred said made sense. This was why boys were so confusing and weird. SOME of the fifth years, a COUPLE of the six years (likely one or two of the Seventh years at this rate) why had no one ever told her? There was no way it was because of her Quidditch skills (she wasn't that good) and sure she was smart but there was other girls that were smarter than her that the boys openly fawned over.

She blinked several times, "No Fredrick, that is not helpful." She threw her hands up in exasperation, "See?! How is this not confusing and weird?" She really couldn't blame him, he was doing the best he could and they'd both already established that they didn't like each other that way.

"Like if a girl likes someone she's almost always obvious about it." Almost, always, yup girls weren't confusing at all, "Okay maybe not always. I don't know if I ever came out and told Blake I liked him but I didn't hide it either and I thought he felt the same but  . . ."

She trailed off, going down that road was almost as painful and frustrating as talking about Xavier. She opened her mouth to say something more when a streak of light whizzed past her head singeing her hair, "Oh thank Godric!" She exclaimed eagerly looking around for the spell caster to have something else to focus on.

Fred was awkward.

He knew he was awkward.  This was a surprise to absolutely no one.  So, the fact that Ayla pointed out that not only was he awkward, but he was not helpful, it didn’t exactly surprise him.  He knew he wasn’t the most helpful, but he couldn’t exactly rat out his friends either… they’d probably punch him.

Fred didn’t like physical violence. 

 He also didn’t like the way Ayla was staring at him and oh Godric.  Feeling his face turn red, Fred shuffled his feet before raising his eyebrows.  “What do you mean completely obvious?!” Fred balked.  He had never thought that in his entire life.  Though, he never thought that a girl even ever liked him… because well… why would they?!  Honestly, he was just Fred.  So, he couldn’t see that at all. 

“You might think you’re being obvious,” Fred pointed out, “but you girls definitely aren’t.”  He shook his head and continued walking, looking up at the ceiling to avoid looking at her, since that made him anxious.  “I mean, if you hadn’t said, how do you expect a boy to do it?” 

"Fred! Shut up!"

She hadn't exactly been nice about it but he was doing his usual, 'avoid all eye contact to make things less awkward while making everything even more awkward in the process' thing. In the mean time he had completely missed her almost getting killed.

She held a finger to her pink frosted lips and motioned with her head to the corner up ahead. There was another flash of light though this time nothing came flying their direction. There was some voices, at least two different ones though she was having a hard time making out what either were saying.

"Who would be stupid enough to duel in the middle of the hallway?" She looked to him confused before turning back to the corridor removing her own wand. She was not a great duelist but she was good enough to disarm an unexpecting opponent if she needed to be.

Snapped back into reality, Fred blinked.  What was going on?  He blinked, brown eyes wide at the shock.  He tried to stammer okay, but his mouth just sort of opened and shut like a fish pulled out of water before he followed the direction of her hand. 

Turning his whole body (he felt incapable of just turning his neck), Fred finally registered what happened.  “Oh fizzing whizzbees!” he gaped as indstinct, but loud voices could be heard.  It sounded like a duel!  And the flash?  Definitely hexes flying back and forth! 

At her question, Fred sighed, drawing his wand.  “Do you know half our classmates?” he asked, exasperated at the very thought.  It could be anything.  He really hoped it was some younger years though – that way they could be easily disarmed.  It’d be a lot harder to get the older students to stop fighting.  “It could be anyone!” he sighed and crept toward the juncture between the corridor they were in and the one ahead where the duel was occurring. 

He bent his knees and ducked a little, you know, to avoid getting hit with anything and motioned for Ayla to do the same.  He paused and cringed as another quick flash was unleashed ahead of them.  “Should we have a plan?” 

Ayla felt a sort of panic rise in her chest. She did know her classmates, a little too well at that. Any number of them wouldn't think twice about letting off spells in the middle of the hall. She liked to think they all obeyed the rules but in reality, well she knew better. Even if it wasn't someone in their own year, it seemed there were plenty of students in all years that were impulsive and wand happy. Neither of which made her feel any better. The most they had ever come across in their past patrols was a few students out past curfew, one of two incidents of snoggers (which was not at all awkward with Fred by her side, honestly) but duelers? This was not going to bode well for them.

She crouched down with him, nearly on top of him, to keep herself out of range of any more wayward spells. They still couldn't see the culprits and she was not exactly eager to get a better view. She rolled her eyes to hide her panic, "How's try not to die for a plan?"

Ayla was excellent at charms and she could transfigure nearly anything into something else but defensive magic? Disarming an opponent? Well there was a reason she hadn't joined the Duelling Club. She had a feeling Fred was in the same boat. Perhaps if they were really, really lucky it was a few second years. Or if they were exceptionally lucky, like accidently swallowed a vial of Felix Felicious lucky, it was just some students practicing for their OWLs or NEWTs and they could get away with issuing a warning and asking them to practice someplace safer.

Impulsive?  Yes. 

Wand happy?  Not as much. 

Despite three years in the wizarding world, Mairead still had a penchant for forgetting her wand and going for the fist whenever conflict arose.  As a wee little first year, the Gryffindor's over reliance on physical rebuttals had been the result of her lack of skill with a wand.  Now, it had more to do with strategy.  The more duels Mairead found herself in, the more she noticed her opponents would watch the hand holding the wand, presumably in the hopes of predicting the spell being cast based off of the hand's movement.  The opposing witch or wizard often paid little heed to the other hand until it had balled into a fist and made contact with their nose. 

It was when they were hunched over, trying to stem the flow of blood, that one could come in with a hex and finish the job.  It was a delightfully effective strategy, except when your target was the school's poltergeist.  Mairead knew better than to attempt punching Peeves.  Punches were ineffective and their inefficiency delighted the poltergeist. 

The flashes of light that had given the impression of several students dueling had, in fact, been one student launching hexes at a particular poltergeist's hand.  Possessing similarly mischievous natures, Mairead usually had a decent report with the poltergeist.  Today's adventure had even started somewhat amicably: Peeves had encountered Mairead on her way to set a somewhat unpleasant trap for an unsuspecting and undoubtedly deserving Slytherin and offered to help.  He had been helpful.  However, he'd also grown impatient.  He'd tried several times to set off the trap, just to see it in action.  Mairead had to keep hexing his hand to keep him from doing so. 

Peeves danced around impatiently like a toddler who couldn't stand waiting for its ice cream.  He started to reach a toe out towards the stone in the floor corridor that had been set as the trigger.  "Don't ye dare!" Mairead hissed.  Another flash of light grazed past the poltergeist's foot and with a muffled howl, he danced up towards the ceiling.   

Fred looked at Ayla with wide eyes, “Do you think we’re going to die?!” the threat of panic evidenct in the warble of his voice.  He gripped his wand tighter, knuckles going white with the force he used.  It was far too soon for another near death experience for Fred.  The broom incident was still fresh in his mind and he wasn’t sure Healer Sage would ever let him out of the hospital wing again if he managed to come in ready to die again…

But no!  They were going to be fine.  Of course they were.  It was almost probably only a classmate of theirs and even if it was an older year, things didn’t usually go fatal.  Sure, you might end up with a glowing tumor or something, but… they’d get out alive.  “C’mon Ayla,” he choked out and despite the fact that his hands were totally sweating and he felt like the castle suddenly dropped into the open mouth of a volcano, he steeled himself and moved forward. 

Poking his head around the corner, well, at least it wasn’t what he expected. 

The howl of laughter came from the school’s mischievous poltergeist and the wandwork was one of a Gryffindor third year.  Mairead.  She was known for her… well… she was known.  And Peeves had his own reputation that was beyond the control of most people in the castle – excluding the headmistress (no one dared not listen to her) and The Bloody Baron. 

When the beady orange eyes of the poltergeist darted toward the two prefects, he crossed his arms as he floated above the hall.  ”Pesky prefects come to ruin the fun!” he announced, obviously they’d lost their element of surprise and Fred stood up straight, surprised. 

His voice cracked, “Oi!” despite the flush that rushed over his neck and cheeks, he tried to sound authoritative… after he cleared his throat.  “You’re likely to hex someone’s eye out,” he warned before noting that there seemed to be something else… going on.  “What’s all this?” 

Ayla did her best not to roll her eyes at Fred. Of course they weren't going to die. Oh My Merlin, it was just a figure of speech. However she wasn't about to yell at him again and tell him that. He seemed genuinely scared and she couldn't really blame him, she wasn't exactly fearless herself. While she didn't think they were going to die there was sill a very good chance that they would get hexed, jinxed or injured enough to spent the rest of their night in the Hospital wing. Something she was sure Fred wasn't eager to do again any time soon.

She did have to give him credit though. Despite the fear in his voice and the almost physical shaking, he urged her forward and was ready to face whatever it was ahead of them. She was almost directly behind him, using his height to her advantage. It wasn't so much that she was cowering behind him but he was a much easier target than her. However it didn't last long as the reality of what was actually happening became clear. Ayla slipped out from behind Fred and sheathed her wand. Her hands on her hips like a disapproving parent (or perhaps an older sibling).

She knew the Gyrffindor all too well. She was close with Ayla's little brother and the pair regularly got into trouble together. They even managed to rope her sister into their mischief every so often. All in all she wasn't the least bit surprised to see Mairead tangled up in something with Peeves. She also hadn't exactly forgiven the Poltergeist for permanently dying her hair turquoise. 

"Really?"

Peeves sounded the alarm.  Too late to vacate the area, of course, but with just enough time for Mairead to slip her wand into her pocket before she turned towards the prefects.  They always traveled in pairs.  Never triads and, unfortunately, never as singles. 

Collins and Radley.  Naturally, she was well-acquainted with all of the prefects and could recognize them without those pesky little "P"s on their badges.  With each passing year, some of the prefects seemed to get younger and younger.  In the not-too-distant future, Mairead would be older than some of them.  She was looking forward to that. 

“Oi!  You’re likely to hex someone’s eye out  What’s all this?” 

"Really?"  Mairead rolled her eyes.  "When's the last time ye seen an eyeball rollin' down the corridor?"  Given how often adults (and wannabe-adults, like these two) offered that warning, one would think there would be a regular progression of eyeballs rolling down the streets.  "I'm not gonna throw me wand at anyone's face."  You didn't throw away your prize weapon.  It would be a waste. 

"Really?"  That seemed to be the motto of the evening. 

Without skipping a beat, Mairead launched into a (somewhat fabricated) explanation.  "I had a detention in the dungeons.  I got meself turned around and heard someone calling down the corridor.  Thought it was a first year that got lost and went to help.  Can ye just give me the lecture so we can get on with our lives?"

Fred was pretty used to having eyes rolled at him.  That wasn’t unusual, and he was especially not surprised that it was Maired doing it.  She was one of the “frequent fliers” in terms of detention and loss of points, so the sass back wasn’t too surprising either. 

Sharing a look with Ayla, Fred fiddled with his wand in his hand, mulling his jaw as he searched for something to say.  He wasn’t the best with these situations.  “I’m sure it’s happened before,” Fred tired to retort, but as soon as it left his mouth, it sounded way lamer than it had in his head.   

His hands started to sweat.  Or at least he thought they did.  His wand sort of slipped through his grip and he fumbled to catch it before it dropped out of his hands.  Way to be authoritative, eh?  “Wee Fredley Fradley – dropping his wand!” Peeves howled with laughter as he stood upside down on the ceiling of the corridor.  Fred’s face turned hot and he stammered, growing flustered.   

“Did you… uh… did you help the first year?” Fred managed to ask.  Oh Godric.  He was an idiot.  Ayla needed to pick up where he left off – he was a disaster. 

"It's happened before."  A more tactful student might have considered not taking advantage of  a young prefect's attempts to sound wise and mature.  Mairead, on the other hand, had no plans to do so.  "Are ye speakin' from personal experience?  'Cause it sure seems t'me like y've got two sparkly globes in yer head right now.  Do ye also think there's blokes walkin' around with their faces stuck in funny looks?" 

Mairead raised an eyebrow at the fumbled wand, but Peeves beat her to commenting.  Mairead gave the poltergeist and appreciative chuckle before shoving her hands in her pocket and leaning against the stone wall of the corridor.  She yawned and stretched her arms, subtly taking a step back from the prefects as she did so.  She was already in trouble; there was no point in letting the trap go to waste.  If she could just somehow lure one of the two young prefects into taking a step forward, she just might get some satisfying entertainment before finding herself in detention. 

“Did you… uh… did you help the first year?”

"What?  Did ye think I just left the poor sap wanderin' the corridors blindly?  O'course I helped the lad.  He found his way back to Hufflepuff not three minutes before ye got here.  Didn't catch his name.  He was all worried he'd get caught by Storm and turned into a hagfish.  I'm sure if ye went back, now, ye'd find him heavy breathing in the common room.  I saved the day, again.  Go me, right?"