Rubbing his eyes, Atticus blinked looking up from the his black and gray pillow sheet set. The blankets wrapped around his lanky body. He wanted no part of peeling back the layer of warmth before he had to. Listening intently to the background noise of his room, it seemed no one was about. Groaning he stuck his head out the drawn curtains and light beamed into his eyes, he had napped all the way through his Saturday morning.

Groaning he felt a rumble in his cavernous stomach, he supposed it was time to show his face about the school. With some washing of his face and hair, he dressed in his typical weekend lounge wear. He snatched up his pad of parchment and a quill with some reserve ink and made his way to the Great Hall to grab what he was assuming was lunch. A quick check of his father's pocket watch told him he was pretty close to lunch or dinner, it never mattered on the weekend.

The trip to the Great Hall felt almost like routine, almost as if he never left school. There was no reason to be chipper when he entered however since he had split up with Delilah during the summer, he wasn't looking about for a new muse to strike him, it seemed she killed a piece of him in the break up. Atticus had been so focused on the relationship he forgot the fundamentals and even lost what he was working towards, backing away form the coupling was what was best for the two of them. So now he could feel glares from certain Ravenclaws who lingered between meals, shooting back a dagger glance, Atticus made his way towards an empty classroom.

Opening a few doors he found that much of them had been occupied recently. Grumbling it took him some time to find one he could just sit in and draw. Atticus had been practicing shading on certain objects and it was a perfect time to work on his pieces when there was no one around to bother him. With a deep breathe he closed the door behind him enough that there was only a sliver of hallway candle light pooling in. He took a seat near a window and started to work on a picture forming it as he went and forgetting about the world around him.

She was now officially sixteen for an entire day.  Though she did not feel any differently, it was certainly nice to know that she had celebrated a special birthday.  True, she had class and that hadn’t been the best part, but she also had an easy evening of patrol and was not on duty for the Saturday evening! She could spend some time with her friends rather than having to traverse about the castle and look for ne’er-do-wells. 

She had treated herself to quite the breakfast, waffles with strawberries and whipped cream – her favorite Saturday meal, and then parted ways.  Her other favorite part of Saturday was wearing what she liked under her Hogwarts robes.  She had to, of course, be in her robes with her lovely Slytherin Prefect pin for patrolling the halls, but otherwise, she got to wear her favorite shoes and her own pants with a shirt and little vest she wanted to wear. It was a lovely day, Saturday, and she was happy to have the opportunity to be finishing up her patrol just in time for dinner with Neely and Evie.  She was sure they would have something to talk about, since all of their lives were exceptionally interesting! 

Walking around the empty classrooms, Jordyn peered in them periodically.  There were to be no students in the classrooms, though she could not possibly be expected to get them all out.  Sometimes, when there were several and it looked like something legitimately academic was going on, she would be lenient (so long as no one would find out), but otherwise, she was forced to tell them to leave.  She generally told them to leave anyway, but would not pull her wand or points for it.  It was just too big of a task to involve that much work.

Besides, even she liked to retreat sometimes and get work done in a place that was even more quiet and solitary than the library sometimes.  Checking the last classroom in the hallway before her patrol would end and she would hand it off to someone else, Jordyn slowly opened the door and peered in.  There was a surprise, to be sure.  The little ‘o’ she made with her lips and the raising of both of her eyebrows indicated her shock. 

“You’re not supposed to be in here,” she voiced at the older slytherin, someone she recognized though had little to no contact with because – well – because they didn’t have the same circle, so to speak.  He was always artistic and quiet, Jordyn was not.  “Hello?” she spoke up again, taking a few steps into the classroom – it didn’t appear as if he even heard her.  She hoped he hadn’t gone deaf or something over the summer.

The drawing he was working on this time was the sorting ceremony from memory. This is where his photographic memory came in handy. If Atticus would put some effort towards his class work he probably could put that towards the greater good, but being selfish, he prefers to do things his own way. There was shading being done on the hat while it sat on the stool when the prefect came in to try and hustle him out of the classroom.

Atticus didn't hear her at first, far too absorbed with his drawing to care about the entrance of a living and breathing being. When she finally broke his attention to detail he actually smudged the edge of his drawing, "Bullocks," he sputtered looking down at the picture and reaching for his wand which was in his pocket as always.

Pointing the tip of the wand at the new made mess he straightened it to his desire and the picture looked as if it wasn't touched by ink in that now tidy section. "There, better." Looking up at the person who interrupted him, Atticus focused and re-focused his eyes to see that it was one of his friends mortal enemies. When Nicola was in school he never considered addressing her, their social groups never quite matched.

"Excuse me, But are you trying to kick me out?" Atticus cocked a brow lazily and tilted his head not moving towards the doorway. Give a person a badge and they thought they ran the planet. Atticus was not the type to carry a title requiring using power over others. His ambitions weren't of that nature, though he did have certain skills that could assist him if need be. "There is no one around, you can easily walk past this room and pretend you never saw me," bending the rules was just another part of his daily life. "Who is it going to hurt?"

Jordyn did not appreciate being ignored, nor did she like being sassed.  No one did that to her, except perhaps Fergie, and even he had the sense to do it in a playful manner.  She was a bit affronted when he didn’t even move from his seat.  She didn’t expect him to care that much, he was older than she was and knew the ropes of the whole school, but really, he should have known by now that he wasn’t supposed to be in here.  He was also trying to convince her to break the rules, which, as a prefect she wasn’t supposed to do at all.  He was lucky she didn’t demand he leave the room.

“It was more of a suggestion,” she responded coolly, putting her arms behind her back, clasping her right hand around her wrist.  She rocked on her heels, far less daunting than they would be if she was not walking around doing her job, and she wouldn’t have even bothered had she not had something at stake when she told him.  Of course, he was starting to appear something like the monster that was Icky Nicky.  She should have known not to expect cordial and polite behavior from someone who frequented her company. 

His snideness over assuming she was going to be throwing him was really something else, and Jordyn rolled her big, brown eyes at him, “Don’t’ be so uppity,” she sighed – funny for Jordyn Dimbleby to say to someone else, “I’m not going to punish you – I just have to cover my own arse.  You must know what that’s like?” she chirped almost too pleasantly, clearly a dig at the somewhat anti-social artist’s typical behavior.  She had nothing against him, maybe against his typical crowd, but nothing on him in particular – she just didn’t like being spoken to like that.

Drawing a little closer, she tried to examine what was on his desk – it couldn’t hurt to know just what he was doing, maybe then she could feel a little better about not kicking him out of the room properly.  It looked like a picture, though she couldn’t be sure.  “Is that a drawing?” she asked, not condescending, but rather interested.  She had no talents to speak of in any creative way, except maybe matching colors, but other than that, she was hopeless. 

Atticus hadn't intended on ignoring her. Though he did feel she had been shooing him from the classroom, he wasn't being snippy. Atticus could be a down right arse when he wanted to be, but at the moment he was holding his tongue and just waiting to see where this went before whipping out his cutting wit and cruel remarks. Those were generally reserved for those who angered him more then the usual nonsense.

"I wasn't being uppity, I was clearly just trying to understand your statement. You see the words 'You’re not supposed to be in here' imply that one should leave the space they are occupying," he flashed a smirk at her. The girl was someone that Nic had always detested, and though it wasn't his battle he stayed away from her for the most part.

Covering her arse eh? It was one of those male moments where he almost leaned back to take in the bottom needing to be covered, but Atticus thought better of it. His reputation was built on him being different from the rest of the swine, he tried to keep himself about that. Though he did make a mental note to see if it was an arse worth covering when she eventually walked away from him. "Can't say I care too much about my hind-quarters but suppose I will keep the covering in mind next time I am expected to do something."

Cocking a brow once more as she came closer he tilted the picture so she could see it, "That's from the sorting ceremony," his voice was softer than before. Atticus liked having people look at his work when it resembled something, it was during the early stages of sketching that he was dreadfully secretive. At the moment however he was open to having someone else look at the piece. Most of the picture included people in the background mostly faceless shapes, and the Hat had the most detail drawing your eye to it. "This is sort of the thing I do, you serve and protect" he referenced her shining little badge, "I sit here and draw..."

Jordyn wasn’t sure how she felt about him talking back to her, but she wasn’t going to make a big deal about it.  In one instance, she would have been affronted that he would dare talk to her like that, but on the other she was amused that anyone would.  Perhaps he was getting off easily because he was part of her house and she would have hated to take points off from her own group.  She would if she had to, but he wasn’t saying anything overly offensive to result in the punishing of the entire slytherin house. 

Not that she would ever have to say it out loud, but Jordyn was a fan of the edgy boys.  She had a thing for the ones that skirted the lines between good and bad, by school standards, and the moon tattoo under his ear hadn’t gone unnoticed by Jordyn when he came in with it.  She kept quiet, only whispering to Fergie about it when he wasn’t around and never in any way except the most innocent of observations.  Needless to say, he was cute and she didn’t mind arguing a little bit. 

Raising her eyebrows, Jordyn wasn’t sure how much she believed him.  “You should,” she smirked, looking him over less than subtly (he was supposed to know she was looking).  “It’d be such a shame to lose.”  Now, yes, Jordyn was still dating Devlin, for all intensive purposes, but that didn’t mean that she was totally beholden to her relationship.  Devlin wasn’t by any stretch of the means, so she could afford to flirt a little.  She didn’t have problems – and was bold enough for a sixteen year old. 

Leaning over the desk, Jordyn looked at the picture he turned toward her.  His demeanor changed remarkably when he was showing someone something and she nodded, looking at the details.  It was a very good drawing, she thought.  Chuckling softly, she glanced at him from under her thick eyelashes.  “Another reason you should watch your arse,” she smirked, “if you sit and draw.  Can’t rightly do that without the proper hind-quarters.”  It was even a bit much for her, but the playful smirk on her face would diffuse most anything that could be misconstrued to a more negative and devious connotation.

“It’s very good,” she nodded as she looked at the picture again.  “You’ve done the headmistress justice,” she smirked, knowing full well the comment could go either way – people had very mixed feelings on the woman.  Jordyn was still forming her opinion.

To think if Nic could see him now he would be a dead man. Being friendly with the enemy was strictly forbidden for much of their friendship, but Nic wasn't there to scold him for looking at the girl who was. In fact, Atticus had a feeling he wouldn't be discussing this little run in with her anytime soon. The less she knew about it, the better he was when he visited over the summer.

Granted he never got involved with that bickering between Nic and Jordyn, he knew full well talking to her with intent, like he was at that moment would never have been acceptable. What nerve to talk to a girl who had wanted his best mates, well mate. That however wasn't stopping him from what he was doing, maybe he was enjoying the freedom to flirt where he felt he could.

Since the split from that muggleborn, Delilah, Atticus had been a right nasty prick. It was a wonder he had friends at all. Ava had to keep him in check a lot lately, and he couldn't help but wonder how she put up with his snippy nonsense at all. Then again, he had been so self involved he hardly noticed she was off at all herself. There was just far too much going on internally for him to look outside of himself.

“It’d be such a shame to lose.”

A smirk now spread over his lips showing off his bright white teeth in the process. Compared to his already pale skin, the teeth could have looked dim in the wrong light. "Oh really you think so, suppose I will keep that tucked away then. Wouldn't want to lose anything that might be seen as an asset." Now it was almost blatant with his flirtations, stunted as they were. Granted he knew she was by title attached to his friend, there wasn't much stopping him there either.

"Ah yes, well my arse is critical for my future profession," he rolled his eyes and looked back down to the picture when she commented that he had captured the Headmistress perfectly. "I can do that with most peoples faces. In fact if you turned away I bet I could draw yours from memory," that was almost a challenge. Atticus found his boldness remarkably refreshing to say the least. The Atticus of old was dead and buried with his poorly constructed match of the previous year.

Jordyn didn’t know what to think.  She had never really interacted with Atticus before, mostly because he went around with Nicola and that meant he was off limits. Putting up with the presence of that girl for more than five minutes was pure torture.  She couldn’t understand what she did to Gavin, but it made him a different person and though Jordyn would always think he was one of the most gorgeous boys at Hogwarts and like him more than anything, she didn’t want to see him either.  He was a terrible person for being with her, so she didn’t want to deal with it.

This was an apt distraction though, particularly when she noticed the hint of ink peering over his collar.  She didn’t know why, but her stomach flipped a little whenever she saw it.  Licking her lips, she tried to concentrate, but the big browns kept flicking back to the crescent moon.  Blast.  

She turned her vision back to the picture and ignored the comments on his arse, she hadn’t properly examined such a thing to make any concrete decisions (though she would have to counsel with Fergie later on the subject) and took in his challenge with a hint of skepticism.  “Is that so?” she raised her dark brows and stood up straight again, popping her hip to the side as she crossed her arms over her less than impressive chest.  

“Well, Monseiur Ariste,” she smirked, in her rather pretty French – she had spent most of her summer on the coast, practiced it quite a bit.  She was even told she spoke as well as any native!  Of course, she couldn’t be sure if the adorable drink boy was just flirting or not, but she enjoyed hearing it, “I would love to see you try.”  She stepped away and turned from him, waiting for him to commence.

It was a test on him and also on her – she was totally shirking right now.  But, it might have been worth it, especially to see what he came up with -  and have physical proof of it.  Of course, she felt a pang in her stomach - mostly over the thought of Devlin and the possibility of confrontation, but maybe that would speed things up on the front of the plans and they could get it over with so she could move on.  While he was free to pursue his query, she was the one who was being held back a bit.  The situation was a little daunting, she wanted to get rid of it.  This was innocent though - despite the fact she had pulled her robes just a LITTLE tighter over her bum... you know, just for good measure.

If Nicola saw the two of them interacting she would be disgusted he could only assume. The pair had been like oil and flammable liquid. Atticus pondered if he would be a match that could ignite them if such a meeting was discovered, but quickly he waved off the whole worrisome topic. Nicola was a big girl if she wanted to start a fight with him over talking to an enemy of hers from when she was in school it would be a petty battle at best. So Atticus figured he would have the higher ground if there was a spat there.

“Is that so?”

Did this girl dare to doubt him? Had she been blind during remembering day and failed to witness his brilliance gracing the floor, and walls of the Art booth? There he had pictures touched up and redone by him as if he was there witnessing the battle of Hogwarts in black and white. Perhaps he was getting ahead of himself, Atticus thought they were damn good renditions and should have at least made an impression on the young girl before him.

"It is so," Challenge accepted. He would not allow someone to think less of his work. Not a stellar student was the middle Pennyapple, but when it came to art he stuck to his guns. Atticus had a brilliant memory for curves, and this lass had enough curves to give him cause to pay attention.

“I would love to see you try.”

A smirk crossed his face, she was egging him on. "So be it. However you cannot watch, because then I can see your face and you won't be as impressed," he was smooth when it came to whipping out another piece of parchment and pulling out a quill. With the skill of a man on a mission, Atticus pressed tip to paper and proceeded to outline her face. Soon after the shape of her face and neck came the eyes. Those are what drew him in the first time he looked at her. The eyes were windows to the soul some muggle said, it might have been the smartest muggle thing he ever heard. Or the only smart muggle related thing he ever heard whichever. The eyes were followed by her nose and then lips which he turned up into a smirk like the one he saw her flash at him.

Atticus made short work of the drawing though he could have really made it into a full detailed piece he gave it enough effort that life could be seen at the creases of her face. The arms were crossed  and her head was tilted to the side. Once finished he tilted the page to reveal his mastery to the muse, ink covered his fingers as per the usual and he once more smudged some one his forehead. Sadly this was a common situation for Atticus since he was constantly getting ink everywhere, he didn't care much anymore.

Though Jordyn was typically a patient person, she was severely impatient in this instance.  She did not like to not know what was going on and the mere possibility he could be mocking her or doing something cruel made her itch to turn around.  She figured he took the challenge seriously, but what if he were an expert caricature artist?  If that were the case then she would be suitably horrified because she did not think there was anything about her that should be mocked, she was a very pretty girl, she had been told and the integrity of her appearance was not going to be compromised by some pompous ass who thought himself funny. 

Licking her lips, the witch waited, hearing the quick scratches of the quill over the parchment, rustling as he adjusted the paper, moments of silence that must have been comprised of thought and artistic license.  She was almost as excited as she was nervous, perhaps he would give her the drawing – she would quite like that to hang above her bed.  When he ceased scratching on the paper all together, Jordyn thought it an opportune time to peak over her shoulder.

She could not see the drawing, but she saw him lifting the page and looking at it, the smudges on ink all over his face, a large splotch on his forehead, fitting, and a concentrated look on his face.  He was paying attention to nothing but that piece of paper.  She was simultaneously relieved and slightly disappointed; she thought her backside would be a little more interesting than a silly drawing!  But, what suited him; she supposed and turned around fully, crossing the distance smoothly to look at the final product.

It was remarkably accurate, down to the kissable lips and big, dark eyes.  She thought herself rather pretty in his picture and sighed as she reached out to take it.  “It is remarkable,” she commented as she examined the curves of her own face, the gentle slope he gave her lip for that trademark devil’s smirk she wore more often than not.  She felt as though she could be looking into a very dirty mirror and marveled for a moment more.  “May I keep it?” she asked, curios and sincere, “though, you need to sign it…” she put the paper down on the desk again, pointing to the corner.  “An artist always signs his work, no?”

She leaned a little over the desk and contemplated wiping the smudge off of his forehead, but she had to remind herself that she was 'dating' Devlin for all intensive purposes and couldn't compromise the charade to that extent.  Instead, she smiled innocently and waited patiently for him to scribble his name in the corner.

Atticus had known what he was doing when he drew her up. There was little doubt in his mind she would like the drawing, or how he captured her features. Many blokes might think him a sissy for sitting and getting lose in a canvas or a piece of parchment the way he did but it had it perks. Honing his skill with a quill was definitely working in his favor with the ladies of Hogwarts first Delilah and now if he played his cards right he could continue to impress. Granted the girl before him was supposedly seeing his mate, Devlin, didn't mean he couldn't talk to her a little. No one had to see it, no one had to be the wiser.

Another man might have backed off, however Atticus stood there defiant against tradition. If he wanted to flirt with Jordyn, neither Nicola or Devlin was going to be a factor in deterring him. Guilt was created for those who did something wrong, he was just being uncharacteristically nice to someone. The broody seventh year tended to shy away from that nonsense, he made an exception in her case.

“It is remarkable,”

A confident smirk crossed his lips, "As I figured, I win the bet. Never doubt my skill with a quill" he quipped in a pleasant manner. Taking the parchment he scrawled his named across the bottom of the drawing. A. Pennyapple. It was there, and if she placed that in plain view the other girls from her house could in his humble opinion, okay not so humble opinion, eat their hearts out.

The smudge on his forehead was common, Atticus found he was generally covered in ink from head to toe in some fashion. Granted he wouldn't have minded having her wipe it from his forehead if he knew it was up there, the thoughts were at that point. Slipping the parchment back at her, his hazel eyes looked her over. Yes his rendition of her features was spot on, he leaned back in admiration of his work. "So other than hoping to finish rounds without having an arse like me mess up your plans, what are your plans for the evening." Friendly chit chat, nothing more.