outfit

Neely had heard a rumor. Alright, it wasn’t a rumor: it was firsthand, good-as-gold intel straight from the mouth of Jordyn. Ever wise and all-knowing, the Prefect had told Neely exactly where to go for a meeting on the down-low with a certain charismatic someone. What she hadn’t told Neely was that the Woolfolk girl would soon find herself gawking like a creeper (Grade A Trent Travis Creeper) as she peered through the small crack in the door.

It was just Julian. But it wasn’t. It was Julian like she’d never seen him before, working away like a queen bee’s favorite soldier on a secret task. Squinting, the small Slytherin became obsessed with trying to see through walls and past dim stone distances. But it was no use. Even if she were as tall as Sasha, she’d never be able to decipher quite what Julian was doing. Not without barging in and asking him.

And so she did. The tiniest knock echoed as her fist hit the wooden door. One, two, three in the span of a single second. Waltzing in without invitation, Neely half-sauntered, half-skipped toward the table where he was working with seeming passion.

“Hey,” she said, trying to sound casual. She offered a lopsided grin. It was the first time they’d been alone since Halloween, which now felt like ages ago. Perhaps because, in teenage years (alright, weeks), it was. “I heard you might be in here...”

Something like that.

Blue eyes devouring the workspace, she saw exactly what he was doing: cutting out intricate bits of clay with sharp and shiny instruments. Neely’s lips parted, her brows rose. With an o-shaped mouth, she refocused on Julian. Her blue eyes flickered over his darker ones. “What’re you making?” She asked, none of the usual nosiness invading her tone. She was genuinely curious.

Biting her lip, she added, “Can I sit down and watch? I sort of wanted to talk to you...” She flicked a bit of blonde over her shoulder, trying to appear casual.

Julian may or may not have offered Jordyn something in return for talking Neely into showing up, without her knowing he had asked for it. She couldn’t pin down an exact time, so he kept busy while waiting to work on something he’d started recently. After the Halloween Dance, as a matter of fact. When he had extra time, he would work on it, and the white clay had started to slowly transform.

 There was always something exciting about starting from nothing but a lump of material. When he first started to learn his hobby, he’d made things that weren’t much different from an unknown blob of who knew what it was meant to be. As he got older, his hands were steadier, and after so many attempts and practices, he had gotten to the point where he felt confident enough to make gifts for family members. Pottery was the easiest, in his opinion—at least the basic shape of it. If you wanted to etch some design into the side… you had to think of that ahead of time.

Luckily for him, he wasn’t worrying about pottery. It was free hand, just a piece of clay he could do as he wished. And then the idea had come to him: to make it into a ring. He had the top part of the design done, blowing on it occasionally to send bits of clay scattering around him. The table he sat in front of caught most of it, and what they didn’t, he could easily dust (or later wash) off his jeans. His longer legs were thrust out under the table, crossed at the ankles as he slumped against the chair, focused on his project for a moment.

He held the knife in his right hand, pressing it gently underneath the third layer he was making, attempting to visualize the rose in his mind. Normally he had his pictures surrounding him to go by, but as Neely was supposed to show up… he was going by memory and free hand. Turning the knife over, he used the hook to drag out clay he didn’t need, blowing it away from his little area of work. He had other tools sitting beside him, a trusty few trim tools and sculpting knives in case he had time to get a little more detailed. He figured he’d have it done before holidays.

Then he heard the rapid knocks, nearly making him jump in the sudden disruption of quiet. Glancing over his shoulder, he felt his heart beating against his chest, giving Neely a lazy grin. He responded back with an imaginative “Hey” as well, setting down his tools and dusting his hands off on his trousers. He had learned early on to carry a little lotion with him; the clay would dry your hands out quick.

“I heard you might be in here…”

He held back the desire to smirk like a knowing little boy—of course he didn’t doubt Jordyn’s skills, but it was still reassuring to see them work. “I might be.” Setting his little creation down, he reached into his jean pocket, fishing for the little bottle. Upon finding it, he pulled it out and patted a little of the moisturizing agent into his palm, sliding it back in just as quickly before massaging it into his palms and over the backs of his hands where he really felt the effects. Glancing up at her as she came closer, he suddenly felt like hiding what he was doing—he didn’t need her figuring it out yet!

“What’re you making?”

Licking his lips as he finally finished rubbing the lotion in, he sat up in his chair a little, glancing momentarily down to the top of the rose. “A… flower.” Smooth. “My Aunt loves flowers.” Nodding at that, he felt a little silly and moved a hand over to his white long sleeved shirt, pushing the rolled up sleeves above his elbow. His buttons were undone at the top, and the stripped white and gray tie was loosened up under his gray cotton vest. He didn’t always wear green…

“Can I sit down and watch? I sort of wanted to talk to you…”

This time he did grin, leaning forward and pulling a chair over to him, his feet coming up underneath him once again. “Of course Neely.” Pulling back so he was back in his own chair and not hanging half out of it, he looped an arm over the back, turning slightly to her. “I needed a break anyway.” He’d gotten another petal done, after all. Sort of wanted to talk to him though? How well had Jordyn worked her magic? “Talk away.”

Neely recalled Julian’s O-for-Outstanding hygiene, and appreciated the attempts to keep up the flawless record with presumably expensive moisturizer. But she was also pleased to see him in a more relaxed environment, getting hands a little dirty... however obsessed she was with her own cleanliness, too. It was a nice change. And the dungeon lighting made it nicer, somehow. As if Slytherins were supposed to bask in such artistic hobbies within the niches of their own little underground world.

She bent closer, inspecting the clay mystery as he revealed what it was supposed to be. “Oh! Golly! It is a flower.” Suddenly she could see it, and felt rather foolish. Her mouth seemed to mirror the enlightening surprise, its o-shape holding steady. And then the tiniest blush rose in her baby cheeks before it disappeared again. “It’s adorable,” she whispered loudly, covering her ignorance. “You should totally open a gallery or something. The art world needs some young blood...” She trailed off, vaguely recalling the article she’d just read in the style and art section of the Prophet.

Obviously satisfied and undeniably fooled with the answer (and chalking up any faltering of speech to be the result of sheer artistic concentration), Neely grinned and took a seat. Julian seemed to be in a good mood, and the aura around them was lightyears from what it had been in the greenhouse, when Neely had landed the boy in detention alongside her.

“Your aunt will love it,” she said encouragingly, folding her hands on the table’s surface and shifting forward a bit to get yet another intimate glance at the blooming clay. “Is it her birthday? Or! Oooh, it must be for the hols.” She gave him a wink. “I bet she gets you something amazing in return... I would.”

She leaned back again, straightening her spine, rounding her shoulders. Her hands fell gingerly into her lap as she prepared her face and stance. It wasn’t that big of a deal, really, but Neely was fifteen and prone to seeing things at a much greater magnification than they really were.

“So you know detention?” She asked, taking her time, reaching into her soul to pull out the levelheaded girl who danced around inside it. What an actress. “Well, afterward, I caught up with Sasha... and, well, he was like totally glad to hear from me and he asked if I’d be his girlfriend again.” She waited, assuming males had a different way of processing these things than girls.

Maybe he would have the words to say what he’d been thinking of. Then again, he wasn’t yet finished with the gift. Shouldn’t it be a ‘give one with the other’ type of thing? Worst case, right then, they just hung out, right? Overall, he’d enjoyed the dance, even with all the crazy things that went on. And he’d been glad that he’d gone with Neely, even if he’d been forced into it by a rather greasy haired fun-stopper.

Girls preferred the guy to come up with all that witty romantic stuff anyway, or so he’d been prepped. Perhaps going along with Neely’s idea to go to the dance instead of doing it himself had been a downfall? He hadn’t even really mentioned his issues to Vincent, being busy with coursework and his gift he was working on. Well, that and he didn’t want to bring up the fact that he didn’t understand girls half as much as he wished he could.

He liked how excited she could sound in such a few short words. Grinning and glancing sideways to look at her face, he figured that she would have bugged him if he hadn’t told her what it was, and was rather enjoying her reaction. His tongue moved out quickly to wet his lips, biting down just slightly on his lower lip in slight nervousness. If she didn’t like it… well, he could get an idea right then versus when he unveiled it. That would be the worst sort of luck too, as if he’d say ‘Here’s a gift that I worked hard on, but if you don’t like it, you can use it for target practice.’

Adorable was a good thing, right? Chuckling at her idea, he merely shrugged and brushed aside some clay bits on the table. Julian didn’t think he was quite that good, but he appreciated the gesture. “I don’t know if I could keep up with the demands of Hogwarts and a gallery. If I do, though, I’ll book you as my manager.” He watched her carefully as she sat down, clearly focused on the clay more than anything else, Julian grinned. It took him just a brief moment to remind himself that she thought his aunt was getting the rose. “I’m sure.”

The wink forced an odd fluttering feeling in his chest. “Yes… have to get ready for holidays. It’s coming up quick.” His hand reached across his chest to scratch absentmindedly nervous at his opposite shoulder. “Well she does a good job of finding amazing things.” Plus, he was her favorite nephew. Or that’s what she told him… It helped he was the only one. Once you hit perfection, what’s the point of trying again?

He wondered, however momentarily, what she would consider an amazing return gift. His eyes fell down to his lap and he smirked. Hearing the rhetorical question, he lifted his head again, cocking an eyebrow at her. “Hm?” Of course he knew detention—she had helped land them in it not too long ago, after all.

“Well, afterward, I caught up with Sasha-”

Julian was hit with a suddenly overwhelming feeling of foreboding. His smile became a little more controlled, and he could feel a sudden pain in his gut.

“… and, well, he was like totally glad to hear from me and he asked if I’d be his girlfriend again.”

And that was when he felt the sinking feeling dragging him down a bit in his chair. Leaning forward and resting an elbow against the table, he glanced away from her, repeating her words a couple of times to make sure he got it right. “Oh, oh wow, that’s good.” Forcing a big grin on his face, he sat up straight, another nervous habit of the boy who slouched. His eyes glanced to her face again. “That’s fantastic.” If by fantastic he meant the feeling of sitting bare on a porcupine.

“I mean, again? Sounds serious.” Nodding, he pulled back and leaned against the chair, crossing his arms as nonchalantly as he could, shaking his head and grinning so wide it was starting to hurt. How wonderful for her, then, to have that again. He tried to think of something else to say. “That’ll be cute. You two.” He stared at the half finished flower and wondered, if he’d been quicker, if it would have mattered. Julian gave the project a thoughtful frown and uncrossed his arms, letting his hands rest in his lap. Why hadn’t Jordyn said anything to him?

And then his mouth jumped ahead with him. “We should go on a double date some time. Sasha and you, Jordyn-” Oops, he’d have to warn her about that later… “-and me.” Was she even with anyone right then? What mattered was that Julian needed to be with someone equally as well known, for the sake of rubbing it in her face without actually doing that.

She beamed at him, already going over the imaginary plans in her mind’s eyes. Neely had offered such services before-- director of a fashion label, personal assistant to a model, professional pitier of Fauna Blake, and so forth. But the idea of working with Julian renewed her interest in Being An Adult. (Not that she ever didn’t want to be one. Hogwarts was for losers. The faster they got out, the better.)

Plus, he was sort of easy on the eyes, and he was making flowers. How many boys could do that? Ha! Not even Bombay could make flowers. Not without silly seeds and dirty dirt and wet water.

“Just wait until we’re graduated, silly. Now you just have to focus on getting straight O’s...” Merlin knew Julian was one of those smarties of the Slytherin shield.

Sitting down, Neely felt a weight lift off her chest. And another newer, more subtle one leave its heavy imprint. She felt she could trust Julian, that they’d come to some silent understanding. That he was her Boy Who Was a Friend. It was a very mature relationship. Exciting, even.

Granted, only a week ago, she’d still been scrawling his name in the margins of her diary, little hearts outlining it. But she supposed she wasn’t allowed to-- not anymore-- and so she had to be a Grown Up and become friends... like grown ups did.

Not as experienced as she pretended or wanted to be, Neely did not notice the faltering smile. It was dim in the dungeons, and she was so intent on her own confession that she paid little mind to Julian’s initial reaction. Well, while she was still voicing it, anyway.

“Yeah, it’s pretty-- serious, like you said. I mean he wrote me a letter and he let me stay in his tent when we were on the trip and everything, so...” She looked down at her hands and bit back a smile. Looking up again, she met his eyes.

A double date?

With...

“Jordyn?” Neely echoed, the crinkle of her eyes suddenly disappeared, replaced with a ghostly stare. It began to dawn on her and she felt her heart sink. Since when had Jordyn given up her ambitions to canoodle with the older boys? With Gavin and company? Since when was Jordyn involved with... Julian? “I-- I didn’t know you two were...” Neely tried not to blush. She did, however, look completely crestfallen. Perhaps she was silly for not having told her friend that the Halloween ball had been more than a lucky coincidence revolving around greenhouses and detentions, and that Neely had actually set her sights on the St. James boy. That she... rather liked him.

But that wasn’t fair to Sasha, was it? It wasn’t what a girlfriend was supposed to do. To harbor a crush for another boy. (Albeit, a very good-looking, smart, and apparently artistic boy.)

“That sounds brilliant,” she choked out. “Totally... cool. We could go to Signature.” Her voice felt small and she pressed into the table, forcing a smile. Beneath it, she wrung her hands in her lap.

“So... you’re alright with it, then? I mean, I thought I’d tell you because... we... I had a lot of fun at the dance. With you, I mean.”

Straight O’s? He wished. Still, he half smirked and shook his head at the ridiculousness of that statement, wishing it could be true. He certainly wasn’t straight and narrow enough to catch Prefect, so he’d have to settle for his scores. Still, for what he put into them, he received decent marks back. “Are straight O’s a requirement for galleries?” Grinning, he shifted lazily in the chair. Calm before the storm.

“Yeah, it’s pretty—serious, like you said. I mean he wrote me a letter and he let me stay in his tent when we were on the trip and everything, so…”

The nauseating desire to hurl was mixed with a rather cold and unnatural chill. A letter and… tent staying. Was that even allowed? Not that he cared what others got up to on their own with rule breaking and the like… Sasha didn’t seem the rebellious type either. He finally trusted himself enough to look over at her and he regretted it—she seemed too pleased. A twitch started at the corner of his eye.

“Jordyn?”

He was saying the same thing in his head. However, it was his best bet. It also felt good to have something over her she didn’t expect. An almost smug smirk settled on to his face before he reined it in for an attempt at excitement. Clearly he would have to get hold of Jordyn first, so that his little white lie wouldn’t be ruined and exposed—and that’s how it started too. Nothing was going to come of it besides Jordyn playing a little social disaster clean up. She was good with that.

“Well, we’re not officially yet.” Now he was pulling things out he didn’t realize he had. “I mean, she told me she liked-” Was that going too far? “-guys to take the first step right? And after we kept hanging out…” He shrugged then, his hand combing through his hair to hold on to the back of his head.

“That sounds brilliant… Totally… cool. We could go to Signature.”

His hand hung over his shoulder, lightly holding on to himself as he tried to watch her face, mirroring her own smile. It was time to play her game, since she didn’t seem to find him all that interesting. Good enough to take to the dance, to be friends with, and ultimately forget about when she got some letter from someone else. Was it his fault he didn’t like tents?! “Oh yeah! I heard that place is fantastic.”

Now he had to exaggerate this thing with Jordyn, because it was expected that when you were with someone like that and talking with someone like Neely, you gave too many details. At least, that was what he understood. Plus he wanted to try and make her jealous.

“So… you’re alright with it, then? I mean, I thought I’d tell you because… we… I had a lot of fun at the dance. With you, I mean.”

He fought the desire to grimace and merely glanced away, letting his hands rest in his lap, gripping his trousers and wringing them in slight frustration. If she had such a fun time… Shoving that aside, he smiled hard again, turning to look at her, eyebrow raised. “Of course. I had a good time too…” Rubbing his palms off on his trousers, he shrugged. “I mean, we can still have fun. Friends are allowed that, right?”

“It wasn’t like we wanted to go together anyway.” He forced a chuckle, trying to build walls quickly. He felt the need to compensate for how he was feeling—it was silly; they had just gone as friends, right? Had he read too much into it? Feeling the pit in his stomach opening wider, Julian decided to try a different route. Surely it wouldn’t bother him so much if he did… “So, you and Jordyn are really good friends, right?” Forgetting the rose for a moment (or trying to), Julian shifted and looked at Neely.

“What’s her favorite flower?”

Neely stuck out her tongue at the boy, looking rather like a cat caught in the act of cleaning its paw. “No, but they’re a requirement for smartytrousers.” Ha! Take that! “Aaalllllll the fake geniuses get straight O’s, didn’t you know? It’s a conspiracy... not that I believe those things. This one is legitimate, though. Terrifying, huh?”

Banter, banter. Neely had nothing against boys who earned straight O’s. Merlin knew she had a thing for them. First Sasha, and now Julian. Not to mention the many a brilliant alumni and older boys whom she’d swooned over before embarking on her own dating adventures.

Gauging his reaction to words was trickier than poking fun at him, which had come as naturally as it had on the day she’d tried to defend her soiled dress in the greenhouse.

Was he angry? Annoyed? Did he find her silly for even wanting to bring it up?

Clearly Neely hadn’t expected the blow in the form of one of her nearest and dearest having claimed Julian as her own. She knew better than to cross Jordyn’s path.

But still...

“Oh, right. I-- I totally knew that,” she feigned, rolling her eyes at her own memory. “There’s just been so much going on lately. And so much time with Sasha... you know... private time...” She tried to pull the quaffle back into her hoop, but it was hard. Julian had the upper hand with his sneak attack. “But Jordy told me ages ago! I mean... like... when you two...”

What had they done, exactly?

She tried not to let the prickly feeling dancing over her neck win. If it showed on her face, she was a goner.

For a moment, she thought she might be able to breathe again. Not official. That was good. Very good. Excellent! There was still time to ruin it... oh-so-innocently. Only because she loved Jordyn and didn’t want her with a two-timing prat like Julian, who had no qualms with going after a pair of best friends. Clearly.

But her face fell again, and quite comically, when he trailed off, leaving much to the imagination. Could he see the green tint to her skin here in the dungeon? Was his skilled eye tuned to human reaction, or did it only have an affinity for clay?

“The Amazon? Yeah, it was brilliant,” she lied. Perhaps he would miss the sarcasm in her throat. Neely herself had missed it.

As they danced awkwardly-- with words now, instead of arms and costumes and hushed breath-- Neely tried not to talk herself in circles. She tried to sound as confident in her relationship with Sasha as she had felt five minutes ago. She tried to tell herself the nervousness was due to her own kindness. She didn’t want to let Julian down.

But it was a lie. She was ragingly jealous, and she wanted nothing more than to sting him.

“It wasn’t like we wanted to go together anyway.”

“Friends, right... I-- what? You didn’t?” She couldn’t help it. It came out. She scoffed. And then coughed. And then rubbed her throat.

Turning away to feign some sort of allergy attack, Neely frowned and blushed. She came back with a glassy smile, clearly forced. Not amount of dim lighting could mask the insincerity of her mouth. Not this time. She didn’t even try put on her actor’s cloak.

“So, you and Jordyn are really good friends, right?”

“We are,” she said, unenthusiastically, as if there was no point in hiding the fact that she thought it was wrong of him to date her bestie, and that she knew he knew they were good friends. “Not many fish in the sea, huh?” She challenged him.

“What’s her favorite flower?”

Crestfallen became woeful.

Neely’s hands, splayed on the table, became fists. “I don’t know,” she said sourly. “Why don’t you ask her? Since you two are so into each other.”

“I always thought our student Heads were fakes. It would take a genius to figure that one out.” Winking at her, a reply to her tongue, Julian tilted his head a little and glanced at the space in front of them, feeling silly and not able to meet her gaze. “So do the real geniuses not worry about O’s?” Like, say, Neely? Grinning, his gaze dropped to the table in front of them.

The thing about being a teenager was that one could go through a whole gamut of emotions in one conversation, whether it was a long or short one. Tempers were easy to flare, hormones uncontrollable, and growing up a hazard to everyone’s patience within distance. It was disorientating to go from a happy, teasing flirting to tense discussions of dating.

“Oh, right. I—I totally knew that.”

He felt his blood boil at the mention of all her free time suddenly being filled with Sasha. “Of course. You’re preoccupied. I totally have the same problem.” It was easier to lie and push the pain away with sharp, double edged words. Then she said Jordyn told her ages ago, and Julian had to catch himself from screwing his face up in confusion—had told her what? Or was that Neely trying to keep on top of things? Pursing his lips slightly, he merely nodded, not helping her with labels. Since, technically, there was nothing to the two of them.

Julian was trying not to look at Neely now, only long enough to make her think he wasn’t completely losing his cool. Then she did confuse him. “What?” The Amazon? “No… Signature.” He was quickly losing his patience with this conversation, once again being drawn to the idea of her sharing a tent with that stumbling idiot from Ravenclaw. His mind was more destructive than he meant it to be.

“Friends, right… I—what? You didn’t?”

His mouth opened awkwardly, finally looking over at her with puzzled eyes. When she glanced away, he felt guilt seething in his abdomen, though at the same time he felt like jumping up and down in irritation—she wanted to tell him about her renewed relationship with Sasha! Why should he feel guilty?! “Well, right. I mean, we only did because Bombay pushed you-us into it.” That was what he’d reminded himself of the day of the dance as well, that teenage self-destruction a constant downer. And this way he could blame her as well.

“And I’m sure…” His voice was soft now, and he couldn’t choke out the words, so he trailed off and glanced to the empty space in front of him. His lips were pursed and they were dropped into a very small frown. If she would have gotten back with Sasha earlier, neither of them would be in this situation. Though, to be honest, Julian was only really thinking about himself.

“Not many fish in the sea, huh?”

Of course Julian knew Neely and Jordyn were friends. If you didn’t, it was questionable what rock you were hiding under. He was fairly certain that even if you did live under one at Hogwarts, you would still know about the two fifth years who tried to rule the school. Still, it was an attempt to start a conversation about Jordyn with Neely in the neutral position. Not that he was doing the best job of that, of course… “Fish? She is the best choice in our year…” At least amongst the single population, having lost Neely to the woes of dating and relationships.

“I don’t know… Why don’t you ask her? Since you two are so into each other.”

She was angry now? Slightly shocked and feeling defensive, his own fists clenched on his lap, his back becoming stiff and straight—it was an unnatural position for the bad postured boy. “Because I figured girls knew that stuff about each other. And you can’t just ask that sort of thing. I have… Guys have to, like, come across knowing that stuff, and bring them, and do the asking and the… the hard parts of a relationship. SO I thought, maybe, you would… you know, know.” That was a lot to say all at once, and he felt exhausted and irritated. And moody. Glaring down at the table, he tried not to look at the half finished flower. 

Neely didn’t know whether she was teasing, taunting, complimenting, or insulting anymore, and she didn’t know what Julian was doing either. All she knew was that the sugary smile on her face  wasn’t one of the many she’d spent years perfecting for the benefit of adults and frienemies, but rather quite authentic.

“Real geniuses...” She echoed. “I can’t tell you. It’s a secret.” She pointed to the side of her head, tapping her temple with an autumn-themed nail.

If only things had remained that simple. (Well, as simple as geniuses could be.)

Not aware that her own lie could easily be detected, if simply for the mere reason that Julian’s lie had been created... well, by Julian, and in that very moment, Neely continued her arrogant but airy tirade, the facade of the all-knowing Best Witch Forever. She’d let slip that she was somewhat surprised; her snake’s tongue would not make the same mistake twice.

Pursing her lips to avoid bunching her cheeks and showing off the nice but completely unseasonal shade of pink they were sprouting, she looked down for lack of something better to stare at. (False, there was a better option, and his handsome face going on and on about being occupied with snogging Jordyn might make her explode).

“Right?” She finally forced out, the syllable sounding, thankfully, a bit less like a choke than it felt. A hollow laugh and good-natured roll of her eyes brought Little Miss Woolfolk back into step. Her bum was planted on a stool, no less, but she was making her grand entrance on the stage in her head. The acting face was on. “And Sasha has Prefect rounds and Quidditch practice on top of all the studying we do in the back of the library-- the Restricted Section--” She paused to smile, silently gloating. “So by the time I get back from the stadium... I mean, the locker rooms... Jordyn’s already gone on her rounds.” With you.

How could he have done this to her? Really?! What a snake!

“I was talking about our school trip to South America, silly,” Neely laughed, attempting to control the reigns. “But Signature sounds fab.” Fabulously sick. She couldn’t imagine a more awkward place to have a double date, with Julian hanging off of Jordyn like a suave slobbery puppy, and Ava’s brother waltzing around winking at all the pretty women ordering cocktails which Neely looked to young to drink. Oh, right, Ava’s brother. Ava. Sasha’s... whatever.

Could the day get any worse?

Apparently, yes.

Perhaps she should have known, having dragged him into detention and thus to the ball, that it was a bad idea. You couldn’t keep a boy prisoner. It was always one of the golden rules of the glossies. Even if a girl wanted desperately to do such a thing, it never worked out. Forcing a guy to escort you to a school dance, press into a crowd of cheering rock fans, and help you find a cool corner during an indoor jungle fire was probably not his idea of fun. Even if she’d thought he’d had a good time while they were there. Maybe he had just been nice. Polished. Like a good little Pureblood.

“Huh,” she laughed, looking down, bending her neck so much that she thought she might break it. She clasped the back of it as if she’d been wounded a la Nearly-Headless Nick. All Bombay’s fault? “Well, obviously.” Her voice sounded small and far away. “You were... just doing me a favor.” She felt her heart jump into her throat, and fall again with a sting. “I mean a mouse has to go with a dragon.”

To add insult to injury, Neely was reminded that she wasn’t even the best Julian could do, datewise. Not only had Neely Bombay forced them, but he’d apparently stopped Julian from asking the best girl in their year. Who wasn’t Neely. Not that she doubted Jordyn’s prowess-- her friend was brilliant in all arenas, and there was no doubt she had certain... leadership qualities. But Neely had though Julian had rather liked her. Silly, really. Who wouldn’t want Jordyn?

The blonde was confidant on the outside, as was expected of her, but inside she felt herself chipping, like cheap nail polish. She wasn’t half as smart as Jordyn, and couldn’t possibly achieve the same marks. She couldn’t play quidditch like Evie, who could fly a zillion miles an hour and still look perfectly dainty and sunny. She didn’t have Fergie’s quick train of thought, and wasn’t quite as cunning as many a Slytherin. And she had no uncle equivalent to Julian’s aunt to tell her the secrets flying around in boys’ heads. Neely resorted to very Neely-ish ways to get the things she wanted. And the Neely way wasn’t good enough for Julian St. James. And what about Sasha? The other boys?

Julian was about to give her an education.

“Puh-lease! Boys don’t do anything. Who do you think writes all the magazines and romance novels? Girls. And love potions? Are totally brewed by girls.” She pointed at herself, jabbing her own chest with conviction. “Girls put the ideas into your heads about dates and dinners and music and hand-holding and cologne and--” She looked around, trying to draw inspiration for her growing list. She followed his glance to the table. “And flowers! You have it easy. And you don’t even have to bloody tell each other anything because you’re a bunch of oafs who go after girls without even bothering to learn whether your friends have dated them, or whether you’ve dated their friends!”

By now, her hands were spread in exasperation, arms slightly extended and elevated. She bore into him, staring daggers at his tidy hair as he gazed with equal passion upon the table. “Sasha always pays attention to those things, and would never just assume we knew, because he actually cares about how I-- how we feel.” And the assumptions were left to the other party involved: Neely, who had assumed they were dating when they weren’t. “He understands how girls work.” Or Cornelia Heloise Woolfolk was working on getting him to understand, anyway. Baby steps. They’d made progress from mops and fake-dating to horses and real dating.

Julian had never disliked Prefects more than he did right then. He felt his jaw tense up and he tried very hard to relax. He just had to stay calm. It was okay. The girl he had had so much fun with hadn’t really had enough fun with him. She’d brought up Sasha, after all, and her new… no, her renewed relationship with him. He felt completely fine in lashing out in whatever way he wanted. “Yeah… sounds like he keeps pretty busy academically.”

He did force a smug grin on his face. Yes, she could assume Jordyn went on her rounds, even if it kind of tore him up inside that she was clearly more involved with Sasha than he was ever going to be with Jordyn. But that was fine! Wasn’t that the point of teenage relationships? You get thrust into something when you really want someone else and then you end up mad at the person you want because you can’t have them. Teenagers were still children at heart.

“Right. South America.” The one he had been lucky enough to not partake in. Thank Merlin he didn’t get stuck in Muggle Studies. If he had had to witness the two lovebirds together in the wilderness... Hunting was allowed there, wasn’t it? He recalled his mum bringing him back a child bow and arrow set and it had taken him all afternoon to figure out what she wanted him to do with it. With that experience under his belt, he felt confident he could take down the gangly gazelle. Then he couldn’t get in trouble for using an Unforgiveable.

“Good… I’ll have to ask Jordyn when she has a free evening.” He felt sick to his stomach. Jordyn was going to have someone turn him black and blue, so really it was when Julian would have a free evening, but Neely didn’t need to know specifics. “You know, we’re so busy studying for exams and all.”

He tried not to watch her, tried not to hear her voice, and succeeded for the most part. He let out a disbelieving breath and pursed his lips together. “Well, yeah. I know you really wanted to go with Sasha.” Doing her a favor… Something like that.

His mouth opened in sudden irritation—boys did everything! Or almost… Well, they did enough, anyway. Indignation forced his jaw closed tightly. Who read romance novels anyway? And wait, was Neely saying she brewed love potions? Frowning, he glanced towards her, feeling his cheeks growing hotter as he became more irritated. “What?” What did dating… friends have to do with gender? “If… Wait, what?” Shaking his head in frustrated disagreement, he turned his gaze back down to the tabletop. “Why does it matter if you date a… someone who dated your mate?”

Sasha this and Sasha that. It was exhausting Julian to hear about him again and again. How perfect and talented and so much better he was than Julian. And with that, Julian felt something give way and his eye twitched. Forcing the chair backwards, hearing it scrape noisily against the stone floor, he fixed a tight smile to his face and blindly grabbed his supplies. Gathering them together, he shook his head.

“I know how exceptional girls work.” Juggling the half completed flower, he contemplated throwing it down in irritation and stomping on it to get his anger good and out. However, he couldn’t bring himself to do that. Jordyn would have a clue how to fix some of this, he hoped. “I’m glad you got who you wanted, Neely. Just in time for the holidays.” Giving her a thumbs up while gripping his tools, he blinked lazily. “I have to get to class. I'll see you at dinner.”