May 16, 2009
Saturday, 1:34 pm

What they had to do, these students, should not be legal, in Figaro's mind.  But it seemed to be common practice for Ravenclaws and the older students.  Baffling still, Figaro found himself in the library, studying on a Saturday.

He dropped his books on a big table by the window, his Astronomy text nearly sliding off onto the ground.  He caught it and tossed it back on the pile.  Figaro's books were either completely immaculate - as if they'd never been opened, or tattered to shreds from neglect and roughery. 

He was waiting on Dracon Towler, of all people, and Sophie Flickwick, also of all people.  They were all in a group for Trishna's class.  One of their final projects was to research and present about an astronomer of ages past.  Then to demonstrate one of their breakthroughs to the class.  Figaro liked presenting - he liked the attention and the opportunity to talk and slip in poop jokes. [1]

"C'mon, let's get this shite out the way.  Ballycastle's playing today and I want to hear it," he said impatiently, only half-sitting in the chair. 

1.	Now, modern astronomers don't just sit up all night hoping a comet will come by.  What they do do however....

This was not how Sophie desired to spend a better part of her Saturday. Actually; other than Matty Amherst she could think of no two people she would rather spend her dwindling fifth year days with. Dracon Towler was a stuck on himself Slytherin with an ego the size of the Arctic Circle and Figaro... well Figaro left a lot to be desired as a boyfriend and project partner.

They hadn't really spoken since the whole you-kiss-like-a-snake-unhinging-it's-jaw fight. She knew he'd gone on a date with Reggie (of all people) over spring break but nothing seemed to have come of it. In her own twisty girl brain way she figured he hadn't ever actually liked her; he just wanted a girlfriend and he knew she'd say yes because Mysti told him.

 It did make things decidedly more awkward for her - but probably not for him because he didn't care. It also made it surprisingly easier to just roll her eyes at his request; "Says the boy who spent the vast majority of astronomy not using his telescope to see the stars but to look at girls' bums. You're such a tool". She couldn't help but wonder if perhaps Trishna were punishing her for something - but she couldn't put her finger on what.

Dracon was fairly certain his group project for astronomy couldn’t have been worse. While perhaps on another planet, in a distance life, Dracon could have found Sellaphix almost remotely entertaining. While not entertaining in a clever fashion, more like how a royal king, descended from the heavens might feel about his court jester. However, Sellaphix was the near epitome of laziness. His only purpose for existence seemed to be who could burp louder at meals, and even then he often failed. Sellaphix distracted other students, which he seemed to reveal in, which Dracon disliked to the extreme. It made the class halt and become disorganized. Dracon was an organized and focused young man. He put all of his thought and blood into whatever he set him mind to doing, always trying to swallow the inner fear of being bested by someone, somewhere, and sometime. It would make him inferior and he simply refused to be. Sellaphix embraced his inferiority and it baffled Dracon. Sophie Flickwick was a popular Gryffindor whose exploits around the Gryffindor house were well talked about, even spreading into the dungeons at times. While he had forgotten her first name (Sellaphix was simply Sellaphix) Dracon remembered her face. He had a horrible social memory. It wasn’t until he was sitting at the round table in between the both of them, Sellaphix on his right and her on his left, that he saw her write her name on a piece of parchment while she snipped at Sellaphix. Flickwick – of course, he had known that. Dracon had taken a seat, catching the last piece of the conversation.

Something something… telescopes… bums…

Dracon’s eyebrow rose as he straightened himself in his seat, pulling his textbook from his bag without taking his hard eyes off of the two other students before him. It was a conversation he didn’t want to take part in, or want to consume their group conversation. Without thinking about it, his eyes went to the large clock in the room before turning back to the group and interrupting, “I actually agree with Sellaphix. Let’s move along.” His voice with people varied depending on his company. With a pretty pureblood girl who seemed interested in him, there was always a hint of charm and cool in his tone. Against rival purebloods who deemed themselves above him, he was always defensive. With people, like the two before him, who were beneath his status or not worthy of his attention, he was passive and impatient. It was a tone of someone who had somewhere else very important to be.

Dracon looked like he'd been kissed by a Dementor.  Figaro cracked a small smile, he looked so pissed to be here and Figaro sensed it had more to do with his partners than with having to work on a Saturday (which was Figaro's main gripe).  He resolved to try not to bait Dracon today.  Maybe he'd try to try to not bait Dracon...

Leaning over the table, braced up on his elbows, Figaro looked over at his two partners.  Sophie had just called him a tool.  "Be nice," he chided her flippantly.  "For the children." 

"Mr. Towler," he said turning his attention to the Slytherin.  "What have we got so far?"

Figaro had nothing so far.  He assumed that just like in any group, there would be one student who would take things into his own hands and get most of us done.  Figaro assumed that would be Dracon who was apparently quite keen on schoolwork.

Sophie closed her eyes and counted backwards from twenty. Under the table her small hand was clenched into a tiny fist. The counting was supposed to keep her from decking Figaro. She was going to keep her temper in check, she was going to be a mature adult and not let him goad her into a fight. She was going to. It was not going to happen - but she was so busy focusing on how she wasn't going to hit him she couldn't stop the involentary jerk of her leg that landed her boot squarely n his shin, hard. Opening her eyes she looked at the Hufflepuff sweetly, her tone falsely apologetic, "So sorry, must be muscle spasms".

Though Dracon's tone equally annoyed her she didn't feel the need to punch or kick him. He wasn't a "ooo skery Slytherin" or anything; he was just a pompous ass she had never cared much about. He thought he was might better than he was and it was thoroughly annoying. He also didn't seem to be the type to actually listen to whatever anyone else had to say. He wasn't worth the effort it would take to have another "muscle spasm". She didn't know what they actually said about her relationship to or feelings about Figaro - but she really didn't have time to think about it sine they were supposed to be working.

Of course in true Figaro form he had nothing to offer. It was then that she was sure Trishna was punishing her; but she had no idea for what. She was a good student, never missed a lesson, came right back the very first night after she was home from her mother's memorial. She didn't cry or beg for special attention. Why was he saddling her with the two biggest jackasses in her year (which was saying a lot considering they were in the same class as Callum and Xavier). She felt the distinct urge to wail why meeeeeee; but managed to refrain, instead her brown eyes focused on Figaro, "Oh no - you are not pawning all of this off on us. What have you gotten done since we were assigned the project".