Pineapple

Hogsmeade was abuzz with activity, a result of the ridiculously good weather the north of the United Kingdom was experiencing. Millie had been one of the ones that had climbed into the carriages early in the morning to enjoy the good weather while it lasted - the spring showers bound to be just around the corner. She hadn’t been into Hogsmeade since the trip with the gang the weekend before, the Ministry having taken up much of her time. She was having difficulty proving her worth there, many believing that her role was more preferably for someone of an older age; and Millie was neither old nor wise. In fact, Millie was young and foolish - especially if the way she spent her money was anything to go by. She’d already gotten herself some new runes earlier in the year but the bags she carried back to the castle were laden with many items useful for Divination, Ancient Runes and the like; her wallet understandably empty after her frivolous purchases.

She’d decided after Hogsmeade to retreat to the Trophy Room, deciding that no one would look for her there. She didn’t expect to be looked for exactly but she didn’t expect to be stumbled across too soon either and so Millie slipped in through the door and thundered down the slightly winding staircase and onto the main floor of the Trophy Room where the prizes glittered in silver and gold at her. Plaques were pinned up or displayed on dressers around the room and after putting her things down by one of the display cases and slipping off her shoes, Millie made her way over to the dresser with the most amounts of plaques on them. Her eyes were searching out familiar names - the names of her father, Trent’s and others. She found the Weasleys, thinking momentarily of Roxi, before stumbling across her father’s. Millie smiled, admiration for the man growing strong within her and she reached for the plaque, lifting it up off of the dresser and bringing it over to where she’d put her things.

Millie sat down on the oddly toasty stone floor, attributing the heat to the fire that was roaring in the hearth in front of her. A rug materialised underneath her not a moment later, the castle seemingly desiring for her to be comfortable during her stay in the Trophy Room. She smiled, delighted, and set the plaque down beside her and pulled her bags towards her, dragging out one of the books and setting it down in front of her. She twisted her body around so she was lying on her stomach and, wary of the plaque, with a flick of her wand sent it back to the dresser. Millie let her hair fall from the pony tail she’d put it up in and turned the pages over to begin the book she’d bought, paying special attention to the writer’s forward, taking in as much information about it as possible. She’d been a little overzealous with the buying, she realised, but didn’t regret it - she knew at the very least they’d wind up the girls in her dorm. And so that was where Millie stayed and was content to stay through dinner and beyond.

Kendall wasn’t in a good mood. Weeks ago, Rise had failed to turn up at their usual meeting place. He had come to rely on her for his weekly dose of entertainment. She amused him with her naïveté, and he took advantage of her in every sense of the word. It was a win-win situation. Well, not really, seeing that both wins were counted towards him. He had grown increasingly impatient with her absence, ready with a stinging remark when he would see her again. She had, after all, bared herself to him. He knew her secrets, enough to give her pain if she left him without his permission. Of course, he wouldn’t want to resort to blackmail of any kind. Why would he need to? He was Kendall Rookwood. That alone explained why. He didn’t need to resort to anything like that because his manipulative skills were that good, or so he told himself.

Irritated, Kendall ran a strong hand through his hair as he turned into the Trophy Room. Without the satisfaction that Rise offered him, even the noise of student activities along the corridors annoyed him. He really didn’t want to shatter the illusion of his good reputation because of the impulse from his irritation. He had spent all these years in Hogwarts setting it up just as he had intended it to. An assertion against his creeping impulses was needed, and the solemnity in the room was just what he thought he needed to clear his mind on his own. As soon as he entered, though, Kendall knew there was someone else. Curious, he eyed the lone figure as he approached it steadily in a stroll.

“Attempting to plague the plaques with that sexy shade of pink again, Finnigan?” Kendall smirked in far more delight than when he reacted to the prank the girl had pulled on him a couple of days ago. Who needed Rise? This was an opportunity; he knew one when he saw it, and he seized one when it was offered. Revenge, but possibly more entertainment in it for both of them, if she should so agree to. After all, Kendall never took no for an answer. There was no ill compulsion in his actions. He knew how to get away without that. Well, most of the time anyway.

“It’s too bad it’s worn off now, really. Such a hit with the ladies, it was. Accept my apologies for not showing some gratitude earlier. It is very unbecoming of a Rookwood, I know.” With that, he sat down next to her, closer than one would. With both hands behind him, Kendall supported his weight and leaned towards Millie. “Pity it wore off, like I said. Who knows how wild it would make you now, had it not. I might have to fend you off for sexual harassment.” He chuckled. “Ah, was there something else you put in that dye? I must be losing my mind. Fend you off for coming on to me? Pffft.” Kendall shook his head and shot the girl an incredulous look.

The evening was drawing in. Thick, swirling grey storm clouds drew and slipped across the shining orb in the sky, blocking its golden glow from view and allowing the northern reaches of the United Kingdom to be bathed in premature darkness that within the hour was replaced by genuine nightly darkness as the sun slipped down behind the hills. Millie glanced up when she realised her light had disappeared. She rose from where she was sat and picked her wand up from where she’d placed it as a page marker in the crease of her book. Then, with a flick and a swish, the curtains drew themselves and the torches mounted on the walls ignited, bathing the room in an amber glow. Smiling to herself, pleased with her wand work, Millie settled back down on the rug, drawing her book closer to her and enveloping herself back into the runic lore that the book discussed surprisingly convincingly. She hadn’t come across a book quite like it. The author took a turn on the lore, agreeing and disagreeing with certain points of it but no matter what it was he managed to make it convincing, impressing Millie to no end.

The second time the blonde looked up was at the sound of footsteps. Millie scowled as she took her eyes from the grotesquely expensive shoes to the slightly tousled mop of thick dark hair. Millie knew that even if she stood up to meet his chocolaty gaze that she would be hard pressed to meet his height; she hadn’t realised an inch could be so much but it was both age and his slight vertical advantage that made him somewhat imposing. But of course it was also the infamous reputation that came with it. Millie had to berate herself mentally though, assuring her slightly frazzled internal narrator that she too had quite an infamous reputation and so they were equal on that front - even if said reputations were in regards to different things. Although, something did get her that she often laughed about other girls falling prey to. She’d never denied there was something quite interesting about Kendall Rookwood, although she could never put her finger on it. Something though, perhaps it was the warmth of the room or the cosiness of the rug upon which she laid. Perhaps she was dying. But something...something in Kendall that moment made him almost look attractive...and made him attractive to her.

Then, he opened his mouth.

And that, her mind told her with an invariably smug tone, is why you don’t like him.

Millie blinked an averted her eyes, realising she’d been staring. Shaking her head, her fingers slipped to her wand that she’d placed back in the crease of her book once she’d fixed the lighting and such. Millie inhaled a mouthful of warm air and eyed Kendall out of the corner of her eye as he sat down beside her. Millie turned over slightly from her front so she was lying on her side, propped up by her hand, facing him.

“If you want, I can charm it to be that dashing fuchsia hue again. You truly looked quite dashing. It took long enough to come through though. Do you even wash your hair, Rookwood?” Millie smirked and laughed a little before raising an eyebrow at Kendall, her lips coming together once more in a playful pout. “Awww...has little Kenny been dreaming about me coming onto him?” Millie cooed. “You should be so lucky, Rookwood. What is it? That mardy Slytherin cow of yours not satisfying you anymore? Or who was it? Some Hufflepuff or something? Fancy slumming it with a little Half-Blood do you? Dream on sonny-boy. You’ll have to do a lot more if you want me to spread my legs for you.” And with that said, Millie rolled back onto her stomach and returned to her book, deciding she was going to ignore him. That was a good idea. One of her best.

He might not have been in a good mood before, but he certainly was in one now. The prospect of meandering his way to a revenge against the Gryffindor girl who had caused that day of horror, when he found that his hair had turned pink after a shower, showed signs of the day looking up. What could be more pleasant than putting a feisty girl back to her place? Kendall licked his lips and pondered on the prospect of it in delight. Going at it alone was also his preferred way of doing things. Of course, there were instances before that called for the self-indulgent personalities of Slytherins to band together to counter the challenges from the Gryffindor gang. As much as Kendall had never been one for direct confrontations, much preferring insidious methods, he never deprived the Slytherins of his presence. After all, he had to stake a sort of leadership role among them, even if Athena was the unspoken voice of authority in the group. He was a Rookwood, there was a reputation to maintain.

But, really, this private opportunity suited him a lot better. He could play everything to his own rules. Or, he could try. “I never wash my own hair, Finnigan. I have people do it for me. House Elves, some girls, Gryffindors … anyone beneath me.” Kendall chuckled at his own attempt of a joke, before turning to wink at the girl. Easy, jesting, with malicious undertones to it all. “Oh, wait. Is there anyone who’s not beneath me?” The boy feigned a serious thoughtful face, before shrugging in exasperation. His face broke into a grin as he began to shake his head at Millie. “Little Kenny has been dreaming about little Finnigan washing his hair for him. Run your fingers through my hair, mmmmm.” He licked his lips to add to the appalling mental image he was setting up for the both of them. And then, he stopped, looked at Millie, and frowned. The mention of the Hufflepuff … he had thought he had kept that rather low-key. Surely that was not what he had intended for his reputation, not at the expense of his personal pursuits of sick pleasure.

Frowning hard again before turning away and easing the expression of his face, Kendall composed himself before turning back to Millie, leaning in closer than he did before. “I’ll make an exception for you, Finnigan. Half-blood or not. Besides, I bet you’re much cleaner than that poor excuse of a Wizard that your brother is.” He leaned so close to the girl so that he could smell the scent of her skin. “Mmm. Certainly smells clean enough. The dirt in your blood, saved by whatever pretty little thing you’ve got going on there.” Kendall looked intently at Millie. “I like my challenges served pretty. What can I do for you? Perhaps you’d like me to help wash that blood of yours? I promise it’d only get better from there.” A wink, then a smug look that followed, proud of how far an insult he had pushed on the girl.

Though the Gryffindor was far from stupid that didn’t prevent her from being baffled at the sight of Kendall in the same room as she, edging towards exactly what he’d gained his reputation for. Millie wasn’t entirely sure whether she wanted to find out whether the supposed ‘Slytherin Sex God’ was as good as the silly little girls in her house claimed. Millie bit her lip absent-mindedly and dropped her eyes to the book as she weighed up her options. She knew she was being presumptuous but Kendall didn’t seem to be the type to randomly seek out girls in order to hex them so there was only one thing he wanted and Millie was certainly no angel either. The same girls that gossiped about Kendall enjoyed any opportunity to slag off the blonde Gryffindor - especially about her little...conquests. Then again, Millie was no whore either. There wasn’t a definite line there. It bothered her somewhat, and probably that’s why she was so offended. She was not a whore and she certainly wasn’t about to become Kendall Rookwood’s whore, either. No way. No chance. Not even. Well, maybe? Wait, what? NO!

Raising an eyebrow, Millie shuddered a little at the way Kendall referred to himself. She grimaced and brought her hand up to run it through her hair before tossing her hand against the cover of the book, the force of it making it snap shut. Millie raised an eyebrow challengingly at Kendall and smirked somewhat before leaning towards him a little bit. “Is that where you like them?” She whispered, letting her eyes travel downwards. “...Beneath you?” Millie brought her eyes back up and her smirk widened. “I shouldn’t think your mother would like it there. Then again, incest is a Pureblood thing isn’t it? I expect she’d be used to it, enjoy it even.” Millie laughed coldly at his words, scoffing and flicking her hair out of her eyes. “You should be so lucky! I’d rather cut off my own hair than wash yours. God knows who has handled it. You must have contracted some sort of disease.”

Millie’s eyes narrowed upon his mention of her brother and her wand hand twitched. Not a second later her wand was in her hand and she tapped the tip of it against his nose, her eyebrows arching slightly as her lips came together in a pout. “How rude.” She admonished him. “Never mind though, you weren’t wrong. But what can you do for me? That is a question, indeed.” Millie glared at Kendall openly and rolled her shoulders a little before regarding him for a moment. “Duel me,” She announced, her mouth curving into a grin. “You win, your decision. I win, my decision. Deal?”

In truth, Kendall didn’t know where he was going with this. In fact, he was more amused than miffed at the prank that Millie had played on him. After all, his inability to take anything serious helped him along, and this time was no different. Still, she deserved to be put in her place, based solely on her intention itself. He was just fortunate, or not, at his incapacity to feel offended. Well, it wasn’t a perfect sort of incapacity. Only he was convinced of its infallibility. After all, he was bothered by the disappearance of Rise. How could she deprive him of the entertainment that he derived from her pain? But no, he was not going to dwell on that now. Variety was on its way. Maybe.

Raising an eyebrow at Millie, Kendall squirmed a little inside at her mention of his mother. The cheeky expression on his face, momentarily replaced by a perturbed one. “It may be so for some. But, I should think Halfbloods have more filth in their practices, sexual and not. After all, it’s inherent. It’s in the blood. Nothing but filth. But …” He grinned. “Why are we talking about this? I have nothing against Halfbloods.” Another smile of feigned innocence. “They have just fallen from grace. Nothing to condemn them about. Nope.” He shook his head. “They need to be saved, is all. And I do that. Well, it doesn’t save them from their miserable state. But, at least it provides temporary gratification. Only if they’re worth it …” He eyed her.

“Brilliant, Finnigan. You’ve got something in that head, after all.” Kendall smirked as he brought his wand casually, turning it in his hand before he looked at Millie again. “I’m not sure you can handle it … I’ll go easy on you. I’m a gentleman, after all. The Rookwoods have always been gentlemen, after all.” Standing up lazily, Kendall began to stretch, offering another wink to the girl as he turned his attention back to her. “Anywhere, anyhow, any way you like it.” He performed a bow in jest, before offering his hand. “Please …” And then he took his hand swiftly away to run it through his hair instead.

There was an arrogant air of confidence about Kendall Rookwood that wasn’t at all promising for the duel ahead. Millie brushed away the insults, far more amused and buoyed by the potential, favourable outcome of the duel. Millie rose from where she’d been sat and, with a flick of her wand, packed up her things, sending them up to sit on the staircase away from the harm. She stepped behind a case of trophies in order to crouch a moment and tie her shoelaces once her shoes were back on her feet and she rose once more, taking in a handful of deep breaths before stepping out from behind the display case. She arched a blonde eyebrow at Kendall challengingly before smirking at him and dropping into a low bow, lifting her head up and allowing a wide smirk to curve the corners of her lips upwards. She the rose out of the bow and lifted her wand aloft. With a flick the torches on the walls blazed even brighter, bringing the visibility as high as possible. Her hand dipped into her pocket and she felt for the bag of gunpowder she knew to be waiting there. The purple draw-string bag was swollen with the black powder and she could feel the sparks of magic within it, just waiting to explode. It wouldn’t take much, that much she knew, and she hoped to blow it all up in that great big buffoon’s face.

“Gentleman!” Millie’s laughter resounded around the room, bouncing off the walls in a bell-like fashion. “You are no more a gentleman than I am a lady, sir. You are far prettier than I, though. I think you are the lady to my manliness so it is I who should go easy on you, no?” Millie smirked and shook her head. “Wait, what am I saying? Why should I give you an advantage? Though, just for you we’ll start with something easy shall we?”

Millie flicked her wand backwards before forcefully whipping it forwards, throwing a jet of bright blue light in Kendall’s direction. “Tarantallegra!” She then flicked it at the chandelier above his head, muttering a severing spell that would no doubt have him beat providing the little dancing jinx hit him well enough. Millie’s hand tightened around the gunpowder and she tossed the bag to the side of her, directing it with a few flicks of her wand around the room, watching with amusement as it camouflaged itself against the brick. So she had modified it well enough. Success! Now it was just about winning -- and the bragging rights afterwards of course.

Kendall’s conceit grew from strength to strength. After all, no one really tested him. When they did, test was hardly the word to describe their attempt to take him on. Humoured, was the better word. Of course, he was no prodigy. He merely had good training. Augustus had spent hours and days and weeks and months and years duelling his son, knowing full well how vital the skill is, especially with the future that he foresaw for him. Augustus himself was one of the most talented duellists from his time. That took hours of hard work that he never wanted to reveal to anyone. He simply got to where he was from diligence, and of course, some intelligence. Kendall had the privilege of his father’s experience. It helped. He escaped the hours of mistakes Augustus had to endure. And because Augustus had the Rookwood training that the rest of his brothers had to undergo too, Kendall had layers of advantage in his training. What the boy lacked was sufficient and worthy exposure. He had learnt how to duel someone like his father, which was rather beneficial. However, if subjected to someone as worthy and with a different penchant for the art of it, Kendall would hardly win. Still, he was just seventeen. He should get better as he gets older. Perhaps the boy should also keep his arrogance in check.

Millie was hardly a worthy opponent. That was what Kendall thought. In his complacency and time wasted on chuckling to that amusement, he merely had time to whip his wand out when he opened his eyes to see a flash of light. “Fini-“ He was struck. Too complacent, too slow. Augustus would have plunged his head between his hands. Kendall knew what was coming. His legs took on lives of their own. Kendall groaned, more from embarrassment than the effects of the jinx. He kept a constant grip around his wand, one of which he had trained, with Augustus by his side, to obey him exceedingly well. A movement about him, thankfully, caught his eye. In a shot, Kendall directed his wand to the chandelier and got it out of the way, where it crashed on the floor next to him. Bits of it rolled around the floor, which obviously made it worse for him as he struggled to keep himself upright. Dancing uncontrollably, his body only came to a halt when he fell over, landing on his stomach harder than he would have wanted. Quickly, Kendall directed his wand to himself, commanding the counter-jinx to remove the embarrassing condition.

Scowling, Kendall stood up. In a split second, he had successfully used the Disillusionment Charm on himself. With a smirk, he altered his standing position, swiftly moving to get closer to Millie in the state that he was in. “Confundo,” he issued, before quickly adding a horn-growing hex, chuckling as he imagined what he would hopefully be seeing in a bit.