Black Eyes & Fun Guys

Jack stared forward, looking at a speck on the wall. It looked like a grease stain, and she couldn't, for the life of her, figure out why it was there. It looked older, so it had probably been there before Professor Lupin took over the office, which only deepened the mystery. Weird.

She didn't care about the detention, nor did she care about the points. Quidditch was scheduled around her extra-curricular disciplinary actions, and it gave her more of a reason to win by a large margin. The House Cup didn't matter, anyway. For someone who had spent her week beating up and taunting Slytherins, she didn't care for this division of people. It was school - division was going to happen without the help or affirmation of the institution. At the end of the day, she didn't care. Matthew could do or say or think whatever he wanted.

It was just interesting how it never stopped.

She was feeling herself fall away from herself, the way she did at family dinners, when her mother threw barbs, pointed insults about the influence she might have over her little cousin. When Charlie wasn't home, Jack could lash back. But with the eyes of her surrogate sister on her, Jack had to find that place within her where nothing reached inside her.

And then Matt's words reached her, from deep within that sunken place of hers. And she fell back on the instinct she felt most sincerely - full blown teenage defiance.

"No he didn't," she said, her eyes sliding to the professor. "I instigated. I spent all of detention throwing things at his head. I knew it would wind him up, an I wanted to see if it took less time than it did at Duelling Club."

Lupin nodded. "Okay, so why do you think you did that?"

"I wanted to see how much I could hide in his hair. I figured I could get a History of Magic essay's worth."

She spoke matter of factly, without humor, and it was clear - Professor Lupin was feeling out of his depth.

In the past Matt didn't shy away from detention but he was never at the same frequency as Jack was. It was how they had first initially met, of course and how their little "friendship" had begun. Friendship was a very strong word but I can't really think of any other word to describe whatever Matt and Jack have at the moment so deal with it. He remembered it though, in his first year he had managed to piss off the caretaker by getting lost. Naturally, nobody believes an eleven-year old Slytherin so he got detention with the Gryffindors. Even from their first meeting she judged him just because he was a Slytherin and then it got even worse when it got out he was a Lestrange.

Wealth based on corruption and allegiance to the darkest wizard the world has ever known came with a price. That price mainly being a label that really outs you from anyone other than Slytherins. Well, here he stood several years later having made a name for himself, not his family. He tutored young ones, he hung out with people from every house, and he was a god damn head boy. Yet, Jack Dyllan refused to believe he was a good person and that made him really wonder if he was a good person. But to get into that topic would require a philosophical debate he didn't have time to deal with inside his own head. Especially with Jack returning to reality all of a sudden - that could not be healthy.

"Yeah but I shouldn't have gotten so angry about that." he added on to Jack's statement.

He absentmindedly ran his hands through his still damp hair. It had lost it's fluffiness in the scuffle and rain.

"I knew what I was doing. I have a lot of experience winding him up, my mere presence floods him with rage," she said, allowing an edge of that taunting tone back in. She wanted the professor to see how easily it was done, to have the evidence before him, undisputed proof that she was, and always would be, the aggressor. "Really, you just start with the hair and work your way back. Some casual snake pun - those drive him crazy."

"Alright now," the professor said, beginning to get firm.

"Seriously. Half the time I'm not even sure what buttons I'm pushing. You call him Lestrange, he gets mad. You call him Matthew, and he gets mad. There's not getting out of it now."

She had knocked him on his ass.

She had busted open his lip in some cruel case of irony.

Now she was trying to wind him up again. But he was done and if she kept going where she was going he was liable to curse her.

"Professor, unless you're going to give us detention again or punish us in some way there's no point in letting Ms. Dyllan sit here and run her mouth attempting to annoy the both of us." his words had purpose but his tone was weak; he was tired and it was only mid afternoon.

This isn't over he thought to himself.

"Listen," the professor said, looking between them. "I think a detention is inevitable. A separate one, this time, might be wise. A little bit of space can do wonders. But I won't take points away and I'll let you leave, but before you go, I'd like you each to do something for me."

Jack felt her breath come in and out, measured and steady.

"I'd like you all to say something nice to each other."

Jack immediately cracked a grin. "You're a funny guy, prof-"

"I mean it," he said, looking serious. "One thing. As long as it's sincere, you can go. But for every false one, it becomes two, and then three. So, who'd like to start."

Jack stared forward, before slowly glancing over at Matt with an arched eyebrow.

Normally, Matt would approach this punishment with apprehension. There was no way, however, Matt was going to pass up the opportunity to be the bigger person when it would annoy her so damn much.

"Of course professor." he stood up and looked down at Jack - literally becoming the bigger person in the situation.

"Jack Dyllan, your creativity in any given situation impresses me."

"And I like your hair."

And he stared at her, expectantly - ready for whatever she was about to say.

He looked towards her and delivered the compliment with a measured tone and an unflinching face. Standing. Above her.

She stared at him, before looking to Lupin.

"Fuck this, I'm not playing."

"Ms. Dyllan-"

"No, making people pretend to be nice to each other isn't okay, and I'm not going to play along. I'll say what I mean, when I mean it. I can be nice to Matt, and I've done it before, but I won't do it as a punishment. Give me whatever point deduction you want."

She stood and walked for the door.

Jack was already out the door before he or professor Lupin could say anything more to her. He grabbed his bag and made for the door before stopping to look back at professor Lupin.

"Thanks professor, next time I'm here I hope it's under better circumstances." and he dashed out the door to try to catch up with Jack.

He had to wonder to himself why he was following after someone who clearly didn't want anything to do with him. And, to be quite honest she was someone he wanted nothing to do with right now. However, he had followed the instruction set out by professor Lupin properly. He did admire her creativity; that same creativity annoyed the sh*t out of him but he could still respect it. His brain did not function the same way as hers did and the past hour was clearly an indication of that. He couldn't help but sense some pain behind the sarcasm because he knew he had pain behind his outside portrayal of a young man who had his shit together.

Much like her, he assumed, he did not have his shit together.

At surface level he was provoking Jack because she provoked him. But at the same time there were a handful of other students who provoked him weekly and he didn't do anything to them. Other people poked at him because of his outward characteristics - he didn't fit the mark of a Slytherin or a Lestrange. Dyllan though, she poked at him because she enjoyed it. She would spend the rest of her life poking at Matt and she'd never get bored. In a way it kind of hurt him deeper than she probably meant it to. But they were both just so damn reactive when they were together. Before they could have a real conversation they'd both explode in one way or another, often him.

He caught up to her and he could tell she was seething. She wouldn't even look at him as he approached her from behind.

"Look, Jack I know you don't want to talk to me right now and to be honest I don't really want to have this conversation right now either but you need to listen for a minute." he put his hand on her shoulder to slow her down without even thinking. Though as he did it he prepared himself for yet another punch to the face.

No one would suspect Jack had just gotten out of another scrape as she strolled down the hallway, hands thrust into her pockets and her shoulders loose. Someone incredibly perceptive might have noticed that her movements were a tad jaunty, a bit disjointed as she strolled down the hallway, chin lifted and tilted, her face comfortably set in her usual smirk.

She could hear footsteps behind her, and her expression faltered, but by the time his hand met her shoulder, it was back on, an eyebrow arched. Faux exasperation lined her voice, "Look, mate, your hair is lovely. I wouldn't want you left feeling insecure."

Again with the hair. It wasn't something he thought nearly as much about as she did apparently. He had initially used it as playful banter but it was starting to feel like less of a joke. And her attitude, though initially annoying him, was starting to REALLY annoy him.

"Look, I don't care what you think of me or what you have to say but you need to realize that this attitude. The one that's responsible for your permanent detention seat. It's not gonna work one day and you're going to be in trouble." his tone sincere, mostly.

"And I don't mean detention seat trouble. I know this sounds very strange after the last couple hours we've spent together here but I'm just looking out for you here."

He wasn't lying but it wasn't the full truth. He just wanted to put an end to her snarky attitude and maybe she'd stop annoying him to no end.