The Wonders of Wolfsbane

Having loudly pulled a set of silver scales from her bag, Liesl looked up at Keith.

"So when you need me, I'm Head Girl, but when you want to ignore me, I'm a stuck up harpy, is that it?" she asked. "You're a prefect, deal with it yourself."

It wasn't really Keith's fault; he mostly went along with what she said, but that was precisely the problem, wasn't it? If she was a seventh year, she wouldn't be having this difficulty, but no, everyone just assumed that because she was younger she didn't deserve to be Head Girl. Or more likely they resented her. Either way, Liesl was getting sick of dealing with their dross.

She angled her chair and rested her chin on her arms, ready to watch events unfold.

Marguerite glided into the room, the hem of her dress sliding against the floor with a soft swish of fabric. She gazed disinterestedly around the room. She watched the Ravenclaw's plight with a slight interest before sliding into a seat at the table across from the hovering inkwell, and in front the Head Girl.

"A prefect...." Marguerite mused aloud, "I'm surprised you three engage in such an activity right under Professor d'Eath's nose. My experiences have taught me that it would be prudent not to horseplay in his class...or has the Professor become less strict than I remember?"

Marguerite turned in her seat to begin extracting her cauldron and book from her shoulder bag. Wolfsbane. Marguerite shuddered a bit. She detested werewolves. She didn't know why no one would just kill the all the stinking mongrels, so that the rest of world wouldn't have to deal with their savageness every full moon. At least vampires had a sort of control over their animalistic tendencies.

"Stuck up harpy?" Keith said. "I never called you that! You've never been anything but good ol' Liesl. C'mon boss, cut me a little slack here?"

Liesl rested her chin on her arms, obviously waiting to see what would happen.

"Alright, no big deal," Keith said, shaking his head and turning back to Lucy. "You really should think this through," he said, edging his foot towards the coats as he spoke. "I am a prefect after all. I don't really know what I'm allowed to do, but hey, I could probably get you in trouble." He smiled and gestured with his hands, trying to keep Lucy's attention on him and away from the floor.

"I'm surprised you three engage in such an activity right under Professor d'Eath's nose. My experiences have taught me that it would be prudent not to horseplay in his class...or has the Professor become less strict than I remember?"

Keith couldn't see who was speaking, and he didn't recognize the voice, but that didn't matter. "Exactly," he said, motioning towards the general area the voice came from. "You should listen to her Lucy, really I mean it's almost like - haaa!" He planted his foot on top of the coats and yanked it backwards, attempting to send them sliding under the table and out of range before Lucy could do anything about it.

Lucy laughed at Liesl's reaction. Keith was usually annoying anyway so whatever he'd done to piss her off so bad, it must've been harsh.

"Oh, please don't hurt me, Mister Prefect!" Lucy exclaimed, and to emphasise just how terrified she wasn't of what Keith might do, she raised her hands in mock surrender.

It was only as the inkwell which had been wobbling precariously between their tables (Lucy had never intended to upended the thing - unless somebody really did dare her) started on it's trajectory toward the two Slytherin girls that Lucy realised her left hand still held her wand and she'd just done a really big flick.

For a moment, she looked up at Keith as if for confirmation that this wasn't really happening, but then almost immediately turned to witness the scene unfold.

Her cheek was wet. When she touched it, her fingers came away black.

Marguerite wasn't paying much attention, lost in her thoughts....when she noticed the danger she was in. Marguerite rose to her feet, withdrawing her wand in a flash. She swished it in an arch, and stopped suddenly, the wand pointing at the flying inkwell. Her lips began to move, but then froze, looking blank.

"I don't know the shield charm," she said simply before the inkwell hit her right on top of the head, splattering ink all down her body.

Marguerite put her wand away, staring sourily at Lucy.

"Don't suppose anyone knows the spell for siphoning this off..." she said as she began to wipe at the ink.

Keith couldn't help it. He started to laugh.

Part of him ( the very small part, holed up somewhere in the back of his mind, that occasionally spoke up when Keith was doing something stupid) realized that this was probably not the best idea. Lucy wasn't someone he wanted to make angry, and the other girl...well, he didn't really know her deal. She didn't seem like the type to enjoy a good laugh at her expense though.

That didn't stop him. He tried to cover his mouth with his hand - and shortly after that failed, tried to mask his obvious glee as a cough. Nothing worked, and after a moment it was all Keith could do to keep himself from quite literally falling out of his seat.

"Oh man...you got....got me gooooood," he said between snickers. "Wow, I mean seriously, just..." he trailed off as he caught another look at Marguerite's ink-stained face. "I think....I'm gonna just...gonna just this one," he said finally.

Liesl ducked. What could she say? It was just a reflex and obviously, vampires just didn't have reflexes or something. So she didn't get quite so much ink on her as Marguerite did, although there did seem to be quite a lot of it in that tiny well. She wondered if it was a self-filling one. That would be really unfortunate.

The fortunate thing for her was that her parents hadn't stinted on this uniform. It came with all the warming and cooling charms, and waterproofing too. The ink that did splash onto her clothes soon vanished completely, though it did still leave her with tiny dots of black all over her skin along with larger splatters dribbling down her face and arms. Liesl was less worried about her hair; that was already black in any case.

Getting back into her chair, Liesl smiled at Keith's tumultuous laughter. In the warped reflection cast by her scales, she could catch a glimpse of how silly she looked and she had made that resolution to be more friendly this year, right? So even though she'd been annoyed at him earlier she didn't hold his merriment against him. If this had happened to someone else, she'd probably be laughing too.

Marguerite, on the other hand, looked even worse off since she caught the full brunt of the impact. Liesl wouldn't want to be in Lucy's shoes right now.

"You could try a cleaning charm," she suggested.

If Marguerite had possessed any blood, it would have been rising hotly to her cheeks, causing her to flush. Instead, she had to settle with twisting her face into an expression of annoyance mixed with embarrassment.

Her impulsive plan to deflect the inkwell with a well-placed shielding charm, thus showing off her unmatchable abilities as a third year, had failed miserably. Used to having all the time in the world to think things through, and remember tidbits of information had worked against her, wiping her mind blank of the correct incantation to use. Way too late, the sudden word 'Protego' burst into her mind.

"So nice to see that you are amused at my misfortune," Marguerite said to Keith between gritted teeth, her eyes flashing angrily.

Though she viewed the whole event as being Lucy's fault, she was more angry towards Keith for the laughter. Nobody....but nobody laughed at her!

"I would suggest ceasing your excessive chortling before you incur the wrath of my displeasure."

Marguerite glanced back at Liesl. At least someone was being helpful.

"I know not yet the spell," Marguerite replied, "Though I assure you, it is now one of my top priority of spells I wish to learn this year."

Keith was just beginning to recover from his fit of laughter when the Slytherin girl spoke up.

"I would suggest ceasing your excessive chortling before you incur the wrath of my displeasure."

"I'm sorry, what?" Keith asked, bursting into another round of barely restrained giggles. Normally, the fire in the girl's eyes and the steel in her voice would be enough to make him back of respectfully, (he wasn't stupid after all) but perhaps because of the laughter he found it nearly impossible to control his mouth. "I must've stumbled into the renaissance fair by mistake. My dearest apologies, m'lady," he said with a deep, mocking bow, his voice acquiring an overwrought british accent towards the end of the sentence.

"Chortling....wrath of my displeasure..." Keith said to himself, his entire body shaking from now almost silent laughter. "Best potions class ever."

Marguerite bristled. This boy was walking onto some dangerous ground. In the back of her mind, she could hear the echoing voice of the Headmaster when she had first joined the school. You're probably going to be in for a bit of a culture shock, he had said, but it will be good for you. Bring you down a peg or two. So this must be what he had meant. Well, she had done some research for matters such as these.

"Um...yo, bro!" she said awkwardly, fervently glad that she had the inability to blush; this was most embarrassing, "Why you be....erm...dissing me like dat, foo? You makin' me crazy wit dat laughin, yo. Best be chillin' yo ass fore I ....pop a cap up in here. You dig?"

Marguerite said this all slowly and clearly, careful to pronounce each word articulately. It was almost like speaking a different language, and she wanted to be sure she was understood. Marguerite crossed her arms, waiting for Keith's apology. Surely her point had gotten across this time.