7:45am
Monday, Sept 22, 08
The Great Hall; breakfast

The Great Hall was abuzz with mild chatter as was usual for breakfast.  It was well into term by now and the students had all fallen into routines.  Figaro Sellaphix had come up from Hufflepuff as he normally did with some other of the kids in his house and they all set about grazing on the porridges, juices and rolls that were out on the tables.  Wide awake and ready for the day, Figaro was telling an unfortunately story he'd heard, from a kid in the Infirmary last night when he was running notes down to Madam Nagde.

"I mean, the bloke thought that a Nimbus 2000 was going to be faster than the Whomping Willow.  That thing survived the Battle of Hogwarts and according to something I read, the Willow was credited with at least three of its own combat kills!" he exclaimed, jamming up a roll.  He glopped it on thick so that it was nearly dripping off in large orange globules.

"So this kid, Harper - that blond dimglow from Slytherin who gave Sasha the one-two back earlier - you know who I'm talking about, right? Yeah, this guy figures he'll get on his freaking Nimbus 2000 piece-of-crap from 1990 and outfly the Whomping Willow.  What I hear, he makes maybe one lap through the branches before some limp comes flying up, whollops him, hits him three more times before he hits the ground somewhere by the lake.  He's find of course, Madam Nagde fixed him up - but man? That guy doesn't have any more brain cells to lose!"

Figaro laughed with his housemates.  Hufflepuff House and Figaro in particular took enough crap from Slytherin that it was finally nice to hear that one of them had royally face-planted.  Struck down in the throws of some ego-building stunt.

Erin didn't usually listen to gossip. It was hardly ever anything he cared about; who blew up a cauldron in Potions, who was the new teacher's pet, who was caught in a cupboard with whom... stupid stuff. However, when it was about him... well, that was different. And wandering into the Great Hall late, as per his usual- that he'd made breakfast at all was an accomplishment, really- it was really, spectacularly hard to miss the group of Hufflepuffs laughing their heads off... at him.

It was even harder to keep from grabbing the main kid by the shirtfront and slamming him face-first into the breakfast spread, but Erin chose the higher road, for once. In a few long strides he was at the table, pushing some Hufflepuff off their chair so he could slid into the one right next to Figaro. "Nice story," he said, stealing the roll Figaro had just spread with jam and eating it in two bites- ugh, too sweet, Figaro ought to have some consideration for the others who might potentially steal his sugar-soaked roll- pretty calmly for all that his temper was building underneath. Figaro Sellaphix, Erin knew him, of course. He was one of the loud-mouths Erin usually ignored. He licked his fingers, slowly, staring at Figaro. "Real... imaginative. 'Specially the bit about the credited kills; d'you know, I'd heard it was five."

Of course, Erin didn't fly a Nimbus 2000. His family could afford better. But it wasn't likely he was telling this table that; if they couldn't get their facts straight, then who was he to correct them? When it was to his benefit not to, that was. He'd only look worse if they'd known the kind of broom he actually flew.

Figaro flinched when Erin Harper appeared beside him, but didn't back down.  Instead, he just watched as the other kid ate his jam-roll.  Figaro knew what this was - that stupid hostility gillyweed Harper and the others liked to practice.  Get in people's faces and almost dare them to react.  From this close, Fig could see Harper's lip was still a little big.  And there was that bruise on his neck.

He kept his mouth closed tightly, trying to hold it back.  This was just too funny.  Harper had basically done the equivilant of playing Blink with the Great Wall of China and he was trying to pass it off as cool? As no big deal.

Figaro nodded with a fake adulation.  "Oh yeah? Five? Gee, mate.  How'd you ever make it out alive?"

But he couldn't hold it back any longer.  He'd tried, really he did.  He knew what'd happen if he said what he was thinking and that he'd needed to keep his head low.  But it was just too true.  It had to be said.

He blurted it out all at once as loud as he could, "Dumbshit Harper lost chicken to the Whomping Willow!" 

And before he'd even finished, he was up out of his seat and making his escape right over the top of Hufflepuff table.  He scampered through the butter (leaving a large sneaker print), over the rolls, past the sausage and between two of his mates, making a beeline for the door.

"Ah ha ha ha ha!" he laughed maniacally.

"Can't imagine," Erin answered, slowly and after a long silence mostly consisting of his resisting the urge to leap. Because he was so concentrated on keeping his own temper, he didn't see the signs; the faint trembling of Figaro's lips, the way he was blinking, a smile twitchily appearing and then disappearing as he was obviously trying hard to hold something in.

When it finally came out, Figaro wasn't the only one who lost it. Erin snarled and took after him, flying over the table and narrowly avoiding slipping on the butter Figaro had so helpfully tread all over the table for him. Oooo, he didn't know what he was going to do to him yet, but Sellaphix better hope he could run faster than Erin. A lot faster.

Behind them, the hall rang with whoops and laughter, although which of the two was being laughed at and which of the two was being encouraged really depended on the table. The prefects present and some of the teachers stood up as though to stop it, but by the time they'd done so Erin and Figaro were gone, gone, gone.

Figaro was elated at the cheers and yells that erupted from his proclamation and subsequent scampering.  The professors had gotten to their feet, one of them had shouted, but it was an all or nothing kind of morning.  And Figaro had bolted straight out of the Great Hall, through the Entrance Hall and had barreled down the stairs to the lower levels.  If he could make it to the Hufflepuff Commonroom...!

He skidded around corners, turning his head to see - Merlin's Beard! Harper had nearly caught up! The short 15-year-old pumped his legs harder.  He couldn't help but laugh though - Harper was really chasing him!  Fig really must have hit a nerve broadcasting his idiot stunt to the whole Great Hall, calling him out in front of everyone.  But on second thought, it might not have been a great idea to leave the Great Hall and venture out away from the watchful eyes of his peers, prefects and professors.

And then came the rug.  And how it had gotten folded over sometime this morning.  And how Fig tripped on it.  He didn't fall, but he stumbled enough.  And lost precious seconds of his lead. 

Precious seconds was all Erin needed. He wasn't a big guy, not like Callum; Erin was all wiry strength and slender endurance. He was built like a runner, or like a Seeker, and the rug was all it took for him to catch up. He let out a howl of triumph as he took a flying leap and bore Figaro to the ground.

But he was also laughing as he did so, and he didn't immediately kill Figaro, so really, the other boy was lucky Erin's temper had waned with the run.

Now that he'd tackled him, Erin seemed almost calm. He sat on Figaro's back as casually as if he often used other students for floor mats, and idly pushed Figaro in the back of the head hard enough to make his face smush against the stone.

"That was really very disappointing. I can't help but feel you wouldn't make even one lap around the tree before it whacked you out of the air."

Figaro fell hard onto his elbows.  He'd just regained his footing from the turned up rug when Harper bodily tackled him.  What did he think this was? Rugby?

"Augh!" Figaro grunted, the smile on his face quickly rubbed out.  Harper was on his back and pressing his head onto the floor.  Figaro strained underneath the other kid - who wasn't that much bigger or stronger than he was - but didn't all out fight to get up.  He was bloody tired from running!  He lay there for a minute on his stomach figuring he should catch his breath before attempting an escape.

"You'd know all about it," he said with some annoyance in his voice.  Figaro was generally used to being bested in sports or fighting - but it didn't mean that he had to enjoy it.

"Gerroff, ya twit!" he said, "Ya gonna sit on me all day, or haven't you got some doorknobs to run into? Or I know, maybe you could try playing water polo with the Giant Squid; you got the mustard for it, I know it."  Figaro was taunting and really couldn't keep himself from keeping it up.  Didn't matter how stacked things were against him - he'd keep talking.

He flattened his palms out on the floor and pressed, hefting Erin up as he raised his hips and lowered his shoulders, hoping to roll the kid off him. 

"I happen to quite like the Giant Squid," Erin said serenely, and pushed Figaro's head back down again. "It doesn't blab on and on, unlike some people I'm sitting on. Awfully thick, aren't you. And before you go on to tell me all about how thick I am, maybe you oughta think about the distinct lack of witnesses around us right now."

Sellaphix tried some hip-twisting or something, tried to get him off, and Erin happily let him get his hopes up by shifting his weight as though he were moving off but instead came down abruptly and forcefully with his knees to the small of Figaro's back, simultaneously yanking at one of the Hufflepuff's arms to make him drop. He wasn't much heavier, true, but Erin had an older brother who'd held him down for years until Landis had decided he was far too dignified to play Squash the Sibling, and Erin had practice at this sort of thing. And by relenting for a moment, it gave Erin a free hand to draw his wand from his back pocket....

So what was it to be? There were so many options for an idiot Hufflepuff like this one, especially one who'd pissed him off like Figaro had. Erin was quiet for a moment, and then Figaro would feel the tip of his wand against the short hairs of the back of his neck, and Erin's breath on his ear as the other boy leaned down to whisper. "Mustard, yes. And other things, too. Care to find out, Sellaphix?"

Fig gritted his teeth when he was pushed back down roughly.  This is intensely frustrating and while part of him was very interested in someone showing up and pulling Harper off him, Figaro was mostly consumed by the notion of how utterly humiliated he was.  He wanted to hex mangy, rich-boy, thug Erin Harper into next week.  But at the moment, he couldn't think of any hexes and his wand had clattered out of reach down the hall in the collision.

Now the wand at the back of the neck.  Fecking hell, it had taken a week to get the taste of Atticus's slugs out of his nose and mouth.  A reprise would not be lovely at all.  He grunted and struggled again in irritation. 

When he spoke again, his voice was beginning to lose it's flippant, confident tone.  "Harper, just get off! People might give you space because you're a total arse, but they all know how bloody insecure you are.  You've got to admit what you did was bloody hilarious - just embrace it and move on.  Having these kid fits makes you look like a whining baby!"

"Demented sadist...!" he mumbled again through gritted teeth as he mustered his strength again to get free.

Let's see. Erin had been practicing his graffiti on the grass the other day- should he try it on Sellaphix? That hardly seemed painful or humiliating enough. Boils were a classic, but a little cliche. Oooooh- Erin knew. An all-body itch didn't sound so bad, until it'd actually been cast on you, and Erin knew how to make it last a whole three days before wearing off. It made one's skin all raw and bloody, it was completely impossible to resist the urge to scratch, no matter where or what one was doing. It was perfect. He grinned to himself.

Before he could cast the spell, Figaro spoke and surprised him. "Insecure?" Erin repeated, sounding slightly puzzled. Then, viciously, "Oh, yes, tell me all about how insecure I am, Sellaphix. Because Merlin knows I might not just have an aversion to loud-mouths and gossips." Psssh, like Erin thought about things like insecurity. He wasn't- like that, not any more than the average teenager, right? And anything he felt, he kept to himself. Even so, his  wand dug into the back of Figaro's neck, just a little bit harder. When he continued speaking, his voice was still very low, as if they weren't the only ones in the hallway and he was taking care that no one else heard him but Figaro. "I don't think you're the one to talk about insecurity, Sellaphix. Bright little Hufflepuff, always trying to capture the spotlight with your impressions, your talk... it's all rather fake, isn't it? Fake and pathetic. Don't think they'll like you if you don't have anything to give, do you? At least I don't give a damn what other students think."

Well, Erin would give him one thing; for a Hufflepuff, he came up with some good ones. Demented sadist, huh? That was rich; Erin liked that. He paused, began to smile. "It runs in the family." What a funny guy- was this how he always reacted when one of his subjects of conversation took revenge? Did he not expect anyone to stand up for themselves? And people called Erin a bully. ...Well, those kind of people were all wrong anyway- Erin was no bully. He might've even gotten along with Sellaphix, in some strange other world where the boy wasn't both a puny little Hufflepuff and a gossip-mongering twat. "You listening to yourself? Who's the whining baby here now? Look, Sellaphix- "  Another jab of the wand- "If you don't want retaliation, maybe you should keep your mouth shut. What kind of coward wouldn't react when he comes into the Great Hall and hears you? Merlin, what an idiot; you deserve to be hexed."

Shite, he was just getting angrier and angrier up there.  And the chances that he'd be paying another visit to the Hospital Hut this week were increasing in cadence the wand jabs to the neck.  And there it was - that glimmer of a notion he might have shut his mouth for once and he wouldn't again be on the wrong side of a Slytherin's wand. 

"I've got problems with impulse control," he retorted, growing more worried, "what's your excuse?  You honestly don't find what you did funny? I mean think about it!  Look, I'm sorry for calling you dumbshit, but you've got to admit those are the kinds of things people only do once they've inhaled the fumes from Professor Gunnar's cauldron.  Aaaugh!"  At that, with the mightiest heave he could muster, Figaro again tried to get out from under Harper. 

There was a brief struggle as Figaro thrust his arm out for his wand (missed), twisted, squirmed and pushed.  And then, in the minor fray, he managed to get flipped over.  Now with his arms free and the wand in his face, he grasped for Erin's wand hand with his own left and with his right threw the best punch he could.

When Figaro had been younger, he'd spent a fair amount of time in positions like these.  And mostly, he just let them happen not confident enough to try and fight back, feeling sure it would just make things worse.  But lately, he'd realized his mouth wasn't doing him any favors, and if we was going to get hexed - well he was going to earn it. 

"Ow- F....Frick!" Figaro's own surprise at the pain of the impact made him cry out.

"Who says we can't share an excuse?" Annoyed, Erin went on. "Merlin, what do you Hufflepuffs do when you're bored? Turn the wallpaper different colors, perhaps? Maybe you throw some rocks into the lake and run away before the Giant Squid can retaliate? Or- oooo- I bet you entertain yourself with some exciting botany!" Caught up in his own exasperation, Erin was not expecting the second desperate escape attempt from Figaro. His weight was thrown to the side, giving Figaro room to scramble out from under him if he was quick enough. Figaro didn't scramble all the way out from under him- no, he grabbed Erin's wand arm with one hand and punched him with the other.

Erin's wand went off, barely missing Figaro as the blonde let out a yelp that quickly turned into some really foul-mouthed cursing. He fell back, but only for a second before he was on Figaro again, lashing out and punching back. Unfortunately Erin would need both hands to really hold Sellaphix down AND punch him at the same time, but there was no bloody way he was letting of his wand now. Of course, he could definitely beat the pulp out of the Hufflepuff with his bare hands, but after this Erin was also really, really attached to the idea of hexing his face off, too.

It was on! Figaro felt a rush of adreneline and pride as his punch not only nailed Erin in the mouth, but that he fell away.  But in the next moment, Figaro receive the ward for his troubles.  A punch to the neck and another in the ear.  It made his eyes water and his head ring with dizzying pain.  Yelling in anger, Figaro kept Erin's wand at bay, and kept swinging is right fist.

He was done talking.  With a streak of crazy, hwwwwe grabbed Erin by his shock of dirty blond hair, gripping well close to the scalp.  And pulled sharply to the right as hard as he could.  And where head goes, so follows the rest. Finally, Fig was out from under and scrambled and grabbed for his wand.  Snatching it up, he put his back to a corridor wall and leveled the wand at Harper. 

Breathing hard, his face streaked with sweat and a few tears, he glowered at Harper.  He didn't know it, but his elbows were both scraped up and there was some blood coming out of his ear.  Harper looked battered up too, but how much of it was from this roustabout and how much was the Willow's doing, Fig couldn't tell.

"Just sod off! Just sod off, okay?" he demanded, exasperated. 

Erin could feel the thrill of victory in his own relentless punches, until Sellaphix grabbed him by the hair and hauled him off. Erin's eyes watered instantly, and he scrabbled at the grip on his hair, cursing as an alternative to yelling in pain. What a low, dirty trick! Pulling hair like a girl! Erin was instantly furious, and also a little sullen that he hadn't thought of it first. He scrambled to his feet, his wand on Figaro as he bore down on him, intent on murder, but by then the other boy had grabbed his wand and had it aimed on him. Erin paused, the mad light in his eyes dying. His left hand, wand-free, was slowly clenching and unclenching; with nothing to do other than forming a fist, he was unable to use it.

"You started it," he hissed, but his tone was losing the sharp edge as he stared at Figaro, draining of anger like someone'd flipped a switch. There was a new expression slowly coming over his scuffed, slightly swollen face; something very like curiosity, but too intent and vicious to be so innocent. Slowly he lowered his wand and stowed it in his back pocket, but Figaro would be an idiot to think that meant he was backing down.

In fact, rather the opposite. Before Figaro could react or reply Erin was striding forward and grabbing Figaro's wand wrist with a hard, white-knuckled grip. But instead of pushing the wand away, or hitting him, Erin yanked Figaro's wrist up until the Hufflepuff's wand tip was at his cheek. And with his free hand, Erin grabbed Figaro's other arm to keep him from jerking away.

Really, it was a pity Sellaphix wasn't tall enough for his wand to reach Erin's temple. That would have been more much dramatic, and Erin had an eye for dramatics.

What he was wondering, of course, was the thought that'd stolen into his mind- would Sellaphix actually curse him, if given the chance? Would this loud-mouth Hufflepuff actually do it, could he do it, was he all talk or was there any bite? It was a gamble, and a game, but one Erin was interested in knowing the outcome of. All the best games were with people, and right now what he wanted to know, what he really wanted to know, was whether Figaro could shoot a hex when his wand was pressed right up under Erin's wide blue eyes. Coward gossip little mouse-  "Gonna curse me, Sellaphix? Now that I've made it so easy for you?"

The adreneline and aggression was pumping through Figaro.  There was a certain measure of fear as well.  He'd gotten into a fight at school and you can get in serious trouble for that.  And wands had been drawn, that's extra trouble.  But he was so furious at Harper, for being a violent thug, for attacking him and humilating him.

But when Harper put his wand up and held Fig's to his own face, Figaro's eyes went wide.  What? He tried to wrest his arm free, but Harper's grip was like iron. What the hell was this? Figaro didn't know what to do.  At Hogwarts, no professor teaches you curses.  Other students do, or you look them up on your own.  And Figaro would be lying if he claimed he hadn't went and learned some, that he hadn't practiced them.  But when he really thought about doing them on people...? He wasn't that kind of person.

But Harper's face was disdainful and disgusted.  Taunting him, daring him.  And Figaro was so furious! So sick and tired of being stepped all over by Harper and Knight and Pennyapple.  If he backed down, what was going to stop Harper from just coming at him again and again.  What if word got back to Slytherin about this?

Figaro gritted his teeth.  "You asked for it," he growled, trying to sound meaner than he felt. 

"S-Stupify!" he shouted.  Red light exploded into Harper's face as the stunning spell hit him full in the face.  Immediately, Harper let go of Figaro, and Fig, not waiting to see what happened  next bolted away down the corridor.

Once around the corner, he stopped and leaned against the wall.  He was breathing hard - exhilerated at having hexed Harper.  He peeked around the corner to see what he'd done.