An Escape

Jack typically hated parties, and as she made her way through the throng of drinking, smoking, and grinding people she remembered why. It reminded her horribly of Vito's.. just without the sentiment that this was the place where her life had slowly been ripped into little pieces. No, this party lacked that.

She pushed her way outside. She can enjoy herself out here. She had only come because she doubted anyone she knew would be here. She could drown out thoughts and memories under loud music and just enjoy herself best she could. She had snagged a soda and now she made her way across the lawn, past the hot tub and pool and laid down in the grass.

She closed her eyes and expelled a long breath. She carefully sipped from the soda and sighed again. She opened her eyes and was greeted by the wonderful sight of the stars. She put an arm behind her head and smiled. This was actually pretty nice. She closed her eyes again, breathing in the fresh air.

"This isn't funny," Damian told the older boy who had taken hold of his right arm, looking up at him disapprovingly, while walking in the direction that he was being pulled; there was no point in allowing himself to be dragged across the concrete if he had two functional legs. He wasn't putting up much of a struggle for a child who'd been abducted, but he was not doing so for a logical reason; Damian was well aware of the fact that he had no realistic chance of escaping the tight grip that the pair of boys had on his shoulders. He was outmatched, as it were, and he was not about to make things worse by fidgeting pointlessly.

In truth, Damian was terrified by the fact that he'd been plucked from the park across the street so suddenly, and was being pulled towards a household that he was not familiar with in the slightest - but it did not show on his small, childish face; it seemed his curiosity had once again gotten the better of him, for the only expression that he wore was one of confusion, with a hint of reluctant interest. "Am I going to be permitted to speak a few last words?" Damian asked as he turned to the boy on his left - but he could see nothing but the male's scruffy chin from where he stood.

Apparently, the pair did think that kidnapping a child was funny, and that Damian's question had been equally amusing, for they both threw their heads back for a moment to laugh heartily at the sky.

Their grip around his thin arms weakened ever-so-slightly, and Damian took the moment as his opportunity to escape. Before, when the pair had been fully alert and had held Damian close, he had been certain that there was no chance of a successful escape - but odds had turned in his favor, and he was willing to take the risk now that his chances had been boosted to fifty-fifty.

Damian darted forward, ripping his right arm free - but the giraffe of a boy to the left of him was far more attentive than his apprentice, and only curled his fingers tighter around the child's appendage.

"Oh come on; we're only going to throw you in the pool," the older boy explained to Damian with a smirk.

"Yeah, and play a game of football afterword," the other piped up, having recovered from the embarrassment of being outwitted by a child. Damian furrowed his eyebrows, wondering for a moment if the unintelligent fellow that had nearly allowed him to escape was suggesting that they would be using him as the football, or if the man was simply listing off the evening's plans because he'd gotten lost somewhere during the conversation.

Slowly, the cold truth began to sink in; he was far too small to escape on his own, and he was being pulled towards a large, underground pool by a pair of buzzed teenage boys.

They came to a halt at the pool's edge, and near a redheaded woman, whom he cast a bitter look as the countdown began.

"Three-"
"Two-"
"One!" the boys shouted, and suddenly, planet Earth did a somersault before Damian's tinny, blue eyes - which stung painfully the moment he became submerged in pool water.

His mother was going to skin him alive for ruining his white sneakers; no drying charm would be powerful enough to evaporate the impossible amount of water that had formed within Damian's shoes after he'd been tossed to the bottom of the pool - though, even then as he drifted downward, being chilled to the bone by the icy pool water, Damian's thoughts were of nothing other than who the owner of said pool was, and why his captors had put in the effort to kidnap him for their entertainment.

Were teenagers truly that sadistic?

Jack heard voices nearby but was so lost in her own little world that she did not really care. She was treating herself to a night of silence, not dealing with hormonal teens, thank you very much. She continued staring at the sky, humming a tune to herself that had wedged itself into her mind since that morning when she had blasted the radio in her car.

But suddenly, there was a splash and she was sprayed with water. She sat up, gasping as the cold water hit her. Party foul. She stood up, flinging her hair back and settling her hands on her hips as she spun around to see who had decided they did not value their life. It was two kids, who were currently slapping backs and high fiving each other. But what had made the splash.

She glanced at the pool and saw a small figure.. a boy. She usually hated kids but this kid seemed too young and too small to protect each other. She was the only bully she really liked. She spat water that had dripped into her mouth out and rolled her neck, cracking her knuckles. She ran forward, holding her arms out and hooking them around the boys, both who let out curses.

She forgot aout that whole momentum thing though.. She went into the pool with them.

She tumbled in the water, colliding with the two boys and she kicked for the surface. They scrabbled at her and she used their shoulders to push her way up. She surfaced and gasped for air. A second later two heads popped up next to her.

"What the hell-"

Her hand came out, hitting the closest one's forehead with the heel of her hand. "Shut the hell up, prat. Get the hell out of here." She turned and paddled towards the boy. "You okay? Can you swim?"

Bubbles exploded before Damian’s face as three other figures join him, though he could not determine whether or not he should swim in the opposite direction of said figures out of fear of being intentionally drowned, for their images had distorted by the water’s rippling surface. Having run out of the oxygen that he’d inhaled instinctively before being tossed into the pool, Damian began to kick at the water rapidly with his soggy shoes, forcing his head to break through the surface. When his face met with the evening air once more, his lungs welcomed the oxygen, and he quickly began gasping for breath.

He turned quickly, having been asked a question by a voice that he was certain did not belong to either of his male captors, and examined the concerned face of the redhead who had, just seconds prior, been sitting on the poolside. She hadn’t been wearing any pool-worthy clothing, Damian noted, having picked out several pointless details from his surroundings as he usually did – but then again, Damian wasn’t exactly in his swim trunks either.

Damian paddled furiously with his short legs, struggling to keep above the wave that the others had created upon jumping. “Yes, I am quite alright – though I can’t say the same for my tennies,” he replied with a small smile that explained everything; Damian Skeeter had grown quite used to strange situations such as this, for he himself was strange, and therefore, he seemed to attract malicious people like one of the magnets that he had at home (which he often used to create a chain reaction rig).

Jack nodded and propelled herself to the ledge of the pool, reaching out a hand to help the boy to the edge where he could relax. Jack knew what it was like to be short, and it made swimming a pain. There was no rest, as short people never had a chance to stand still in the water. One of the boys was freaking out, something about being a bad swimmer, and he splashed towards Jack, grabbing her shoulders and plunging her underwater.

She swallowed a bunch of water and flailed underwater. She reached out and her fist connected with his stomach and he released her. She bobbed to the surface and reached down, yanking him above water. She spit water out, coughing and spluttering. "Good going, prick!" She shook herself free and pushed him away from her. His friend yanked him towards him and Jack turned her attention back to the young boy, extending an arm once again as she lifted herself out of the pool so she was sitting on the ledge, her legs in the water.

"C'mon," she said to him. "I wish to say the teenage population was comprised solely of those with brains, but mostly, it isn't." She shot the males a look, hearing a stream of profane names being muttered about her. "Yeah, keep it coming. Next time, I'll wait 'til you stop flailing before I pull you above water."

Damian took the hand that he’d been offered, having decided that the female could be trusted; she’d chased off his captors, and if that wasn’t an act of kindness, Damian wasn’t sure that such a thing existed. He pulled himself forward with all of the might that a child of his age could muster, and flopped over the edge of the pool; it was rather embarrassing, appearing so helpless, but at the same time, Damian knew better than to assume he would have survived a game of football with the pair that had attempted to drown him. He'd needed the help.

For a moment Damian pondered the possibility that the males had expected Damian’s head to become visible once more only when it was no longer protecting a functioning mind within. Could a few drinks – or, whatever it was that the teenagers had done to themselves in order to make them act in such a way, assuming, of course, that they were not naturally so cruel and ignorant– really turn a pair of young boys into murders? Damian felt that it was a possibility worth considering, for he too was to become a teenager, and he did not wish to make any mistakes that could lead to death. Despite the fact that he was rather wise beyond his years, Damian’s innocence prevented him from grasping the concept of Death, and thus, it frightened him like no other element.

Having slapped on his usual, blank facial expression as he thought, Damian crawled onto the tiled deck that the pool was a part of, and laid flat on his back, allowing his questions to completely overwhelm him for a moment; a moment of silence for thought was necessary every now-and-then when Damian was concerned, or his thoughts would surely overpower him, and a flood of thoughts, theories, numbers, and questions would break through his boundaries and poor out into the real world.

After organizing his thoughts precisely, putting everything back in order, Damian sat up, and pulled off his shoes to examine the damage.

Speaking of a flood…

“Brilliant…” he spoke aloud, though his tone did not hold any real emotion – in fact, his autopilot ways made it rather difficult to decipher the meaning behind the words that he chose to let through his filter and to see the light of day. He set the sneakers down beside him, though he made certain that they were upside-down when he did so; if there was any chance of saving his shoes, he would have to start by draining the water.

Suddenly, the small, alien-like child turned his eyes towards his savior once more, and offered her a grateful grin, “Hopefully I wont become one of them – one of the brain-dead, that is.” he stated in reply to the redhead’s earlier comment on the teenage population.

Shortly after, Damian counted to himself each time the letter “D” had been spoken aloud, moving his lips absentmindedly to form each number, as he’d found himself compelled to since the moment he’d learned the alphabet.

"My name is Damian," he introduced himself, though he felt somewhat uneasy about giving his name away to a complete stranger - but he dared not speak his last name aloud; one part of a name was more than enough in Damian's eyes.

Jack pulled him through the water and helped him pull himself up onto the ledge of the pool. She released him once she was sure he was clear of the water. The boys were crawling out of the pool on the other side and stumbling over each other. Jack reached behind her and grabbed the handle of her wand that was sticking in her back pocket. She stood up, her own sneakers squeaking, and saw them pointing at her.

"There's the little prat-"

"And that's the b!tch that almost drowned me-"

Jack flicked her wand and a jet of red went straight towards one of them, throwing him into the bushes. "Rictumsempra!" she said, pointing at the other, who fell over, shrieking with laughter. "No, no, make it stop!" Jack rolled her eyes and plopped down next to the boy, turning so her back was to the pool and stretching her legs out.

"Idiots," she muttered, setting her wand beside her. She smirked at his words and said, "Oh, it takes a special breed to get to that advanced a level of brainlessness." She began to unlace her own shoes, taking them off before peeling her socks off. She picked her shoes up and plopped them next to his, before picking her wand up again and pointing it at them. Both pairs of shoes began to steam. "That should take awhile, but it'll dry them."

She unzipped her red and black striped hoodie before dropping it off her shoulders, revealing her comical shirt about killing zombies. She reached up and ran a hand through her hair, forcing drops of water to sprinkle from it. She began squeezing the ends of her red mop as the boy introduced himself. She grinned. "I'm Jack. What're you doing here, anyway? You can't even be in Hogwarts yet. I wasn't that short when I was a first year." She smirked at him, to let him know she was being funny- even if it was true.

With jealousy burning within his chest, Damian watched the redhead flick her wand and mutter aloud an incantation that she’d most likely learned of during her time at Hogwarts; oh how the child wished to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Having listened to every one of his older sister’s stories of her adventures within the school several times, and his father’s vivid descriptions of the place, the wait to receive his acceptance letter had become excruciatingly painful.

Damian dragged his attention back towards the mushy socks that clung to the skin of his feet, and began to peel them off. He fought with the socks, struggling to remove the constricting fabric from his feet because of the water that it’d absorbed.

As though Jack had taken a peek at the small boy’s mind, she threw a question about his schooling into the conversation – and for all Damian knew, she very well could have used legimancy against him, though he imagined that he would have felt her there, rummaging through his memories.

Damian chose to answer her questions in the order in which they’d been asked, starting with her simple inquiry about his presence; “There is a park across the street that I’ve been spending my time in for the past few days. It isn’t far from my father’s home, you see, so it is rather convenient – or was rather convenient until I was abducted by those” – Damian gestured towards the pair of boys that Jack had only just fired a tickling charm at with one of his small, chubby fingers – “two buffoons.”

Having given up the war that he’d previously waged against his own, two socks, Damian allowed his feet to dangle over the pool’s edge and glide across the water’s reflective surface.

“I haven’t yet received my acceptance letter,” Damian replied, staring at the mirrored image of his feet, which existed just beneath the real pair, when he found nothing else to examine. “I hope to get into Ravenclaw,” he added rather absentmindedly. “What about you, then? You are evidently a seventh year, but what house were you sorted into?” He asked after coming to the realization that he had not yet obtained the valuable information.

Jack nodded, her sharp gaze following his finger, and grumbled, "Yeah, well they'll get what's coming to them, even if I have to arrange it myself." She pulled her hands in her lap and began cracking her knuckles, having worked herself up quite a bit. She needed to release some of that pent up tension. She sighed and rolled her neck again, leaning back.

The kid was smarter, a lot smarter than his years, and probably more articulate than half of her old peers at Hogwarts. He said he was hoping to get into Ravenclaw and she smiled, doubting he would anywhere but there. Then again, who knew. Jack had fierce Gryffindor pride, and yet, the Sorting Hat had agonized about whether or not he should place her in Gryffindor or Slytherin.

"Actually, I just graduated," Jack corrected the minor mistake. "I'm a Gryffindor. Have that whole 'irritate me and I'll tackle you into a pool' type personality." She smirked. "Might not be so well-calculated, but it was effective. Cold, but effective nonetheless." She grinned. "So, am I supposed to take you back home or help you find your parents or something? How's this supposed to work? I'll leave it to the future Ravenclaw to be the responsible one," she said, grinning at him.

It was not often that Damian shared his deductions with those around him, due to the possibility of having guessed wrong, and it was for this very reason that Damian felt so taken aback upon being corrected by Jack. He winced, causing the corners of his eyes to wrinkle slightly, and for his lips to curl downward into a simple frown; being told that he was wrong was like receiving a slap across the face. Damian did not have much of an ego, but at the same time, when it came to his smarts he liked to assume that he had an advantage over the human beings around him; there were times when he would go as far as to think that he was the smartest being in the room, despite his age – but it appeared as though it was not so when this ‘Jack’ woman was involved. For a moment, Damian considered the possibility of having met his match…

“You’ve graduated? May I ask you a question, then, Jack? I am rather curios; with all that has been going on at Hogwarts recently, did you feel relieved to leave Hogwarts? I only ask because I will be headed there next, and I imagine that, if you couldn’t have waited to escape the school, that it will be far more difficult for my generation,” Damian asked, though, in truth, nothing that anyone said about Hogwarts could possibly convince the young boy that lessons at the wizarding school were not worth the danger.

Damian may have feared death more than any known element, but his thirst for knowledge outweighed that fear.

Damian leaned backwards on his small arms – only to quickly straighten once more, and hold his right hand out before his face to examine it; a sudden, sharp pain had electrified the heel of his palm, and his immediate instinct was to find the reason behind the pain. Sure enough, as Damian looked at the flesh that had pained him so, he spotted a scrape along the surface. Small droplets of blood had begun to spring from the shallow injury, but Damian simply brushed his hand against his drenched jeans; he had most likely scraped his palm along the bottom of the pool when he’d been thrown in, and it was not deep enough an injury for him to fret over.

“Certainly,” Damian replied, looking up from his hand. “They had other plans for me, it seemed, and I am not sure how much of it I would have been able to withstand… It is fortunate that they were able to get a taste of their own medicine before I overdosed on it,” he added bitterly, before returning to his usual, flat tone to reply to Jack’s next question. “As soon as my shoes have dried, I’ll be out of your hair,” he assured her, staring off across the pool’s surface once more, “I can walk home from the park.”