A Tower(ing) Conversation

Vivianna froze momentarily at Henri's words. Great Salazar, had this girl really killed her father? By accident or on purposed made no difference, not at the moment, not when she had so little information. Perhaps Vivianna was not the best person to really examine such things, the girl was still incredibly close to her younger cousin, after all. He had murdered. Technically it was different, her relative was a vampire who had been threatened and lost control. But couldn't the same be said for a child who lost control of their magic in a fit of rage?

Forcing herself to breathe and be calm, the Slytherin re-analyzed the situation. It did make sense, now, Henri's behavior. That crazy that would cause basically everyone to disregard the odd little things the girl did. Vivianna supposed that after living the life she had, the witch knew better than to disregard what could end up being important tells. The attitude fit with this story, like the girl was trying to hide something. Or maybe the girl was trying to push other people away, her cousin had done that too. It was a possibility that this girl had just been born slightly crazy, but the hidden intelligence led Vivianna to believe otherwise.

So that was it, the quirky Ravenclaw who was doing her hair was a murderer, and acted the way she did to hide that. But that didn't make sense! If this girl truly tried so hard to hide such a thing, why admit it to Vivianna out of the blue? She wouldn't, oh it was obvious! It was all a twisted diversion! The Slytherin had come too close to the truth for comfort, so Henri had led her off the trail with something that would successfully absorb all her attention. Merlin, this girl was good.

Realizing she'd been silent for slightly too long, Vivianna picked the easier statement to respond to. "Funny, neither have I," was her soft reply.

The one drawback to the act of turning away at her 'confession' was that Henri could not see the reaction play out on the redheaded Slytherin girl's features as she would have been so pleased to do. Of course, the dramatic effect hinged on the turn-away, and she could not sacrifice that, but she knew she was missing out on gold.

She could feel the tension, though, and she could practically hear Viv's bones stiffen with surprise and anxiety. Henri could practically imagine the small flicker of panic in the girl's eyes. Boy, was she missing out!

It took a long time for Viv to respond, and Henri could not tell whether or not her lie had been taken as truth, but she was glad to have shaken the girl at all. She continued lathering blue into the newly bleached streaks in Viv's hair. She smiled sweetly at her words, but said nothing, continuing to work on her hair. She picked up her wand after a moment, flicked it, and then began to rinse her hair.

"All done, just washing it out now!"

Vivianna wondered if Henri knew that she hadn't fallen for, what she thought, was a brilliant diversion. The Slytherin was rather proud that she hadn't fallen for it, she refused to be one of those idiots who believed everything they heard. Until a few moments before, the older teen had felt a twisted companionship with Henri. She figured that, really, either could have turned out like the other easily enough. The witch had figured that perhaps Henri felt it too, as the girl seemed to be nicer to her than her reputation spoke of.

When Vivianna figured out that Henri was lying, her feelings for the girl changed. She respected the younger girl more, the way a Quidditch player would respect a member of another team who plays well. But any thoughts of a connection were shattered. The Slytherin still thought this girl was funny, different, a nice getaway, but not anything more.

As Henri began to wash out the dye, Vivianna sent her a brief small smile, the one she tended to save for acquaintances. "Thanks, can't wait to see it," were the accompanying words.

All talk was off of Henri now, as it should be, and the focus was back on the redheaded Slytherin's hair, putting Henri back into the driver's seat. As the one rendering the service, and the one holding the girl's precious hair, Henri felt the small power in being able to transform Viv's hair into a talking point. When people would ask about her hair, Viv would answer Henri had done it.

It all contributed to the image. To the mystery. Henri did not know what she was striving for, but she sure was striving.

She continued to wash the strands of the Slytherin's hair before pulling away. She peeled the gloves off and threw them in the sink. One final flick of her wand, and Viv's hair was dry. "Ta-da!"

Vivianna inhaled sharply, before turning to face the mirror above the sink. The witch stood frozen for one moment. then two. Her hands automatically flew to her hair, where she ran her fingers through the underside of her lightly-frizzy locks. Slowly, a smile began to appear on her face.

Smiling and voice full of humor, Vivianna said, "I am so gonna get hell for this in the dungeons." After all. a nice percentage of her hair was now blue. and blue was the Ravenclaw house colour. A few of her housemates liked to say that she should have been a Ravenclaw, since she was alone a fair bit, and would spend a decent amount of that time reading about or experimenting with potions.

This exasperated the teenager to no end. Not because she didn't like Ravenclaw's, the Sorting Hat had thought about putting here there. No, it bugged her that just because she didn't brag about how many first year's she'd tricked every night in the common room, didn't mean she couldn't have done if she'd wanted to.

The Slytherin would have fun tonight though, challenging herself by flipping everything someone said back in their face. "So you don't just talk the talk," Vivianna smiled at Henri.

Henri smirked widely as Viv declared that she would be given hell for her choice to dye her hair blue. "If you're not getting hell, then you're doing something wrong." She grinned and began to wash her hands, for some of the blue dye had stained the sides of her fingers and upon her heel and palm.

Henri felt as though she had done well. Now she had a standing testament to her ability, and would hopefully be getting more girls to come to her and ask for beauty help. It put her in an excellent position to manipulate as she pleased. And, she felt as though she had secured a level of respect from the Slytherin girl. And hopefully some level of fear too. Fear was nice.

Henri laughed at her comment. "Oh, girl, I even invented the walk."

Vivianna just regarded the other girl as she attempted to get the blue dye off the skin of her hands. The Slytherin knew of a potion that would soak the stain right off the skin, even had a bottle in her bag due to her own commonly ink-stained fingers. The girl figured that she might as well let Henri try and get it off herself before offering the paste. The teenager wouldn't usually share one of her own inventions like that, but it wasn't likely that Henri would realize it wasn't just a lesser-known potion. Besides, the Ravenclaw had done her hair.

When Henri responded to Vivianna's comment, the elder girl just studied her. Henri really was most certainly a mystery. Usually the dungeon-dweller would want to solve such a thing, but for once the teen just didn't want to know. It was likely she'd change her mind at a later date, let the curiosity take over. But for now, the Slytherin was content.

"Invented the walk, I think not," the student replied slowly, "invented a walk that no being has ever walked before, perhaps." The amateur potions inventor was certain that Henri would take her words as a complement. And in a twisted way, they were meant to be.

Henri reached out and collected her canisters, because they had not been used entirely on the Slytherin's streaks, and carefully packed them into her bag. When someone had a bag that was as full as Henri's bag happened to be, they had to be very careful when packing it up. One incorrect jostle and blue dye was everywhere, or a needle was jutting through the material and driving into anyone who brushed past her.

She had to say, though, it was a nice defense.

Henri smirked, pulling her bag onto her shoulder. "Yes, I did invent a walk, and I'll even give you the pleasure of studying it. Have a glorious day, V." And she turned and flounced off, strutting with a strange mixture of confidence and too-sweet innocence. She walked out the door, down the hall, and all the way to the common room.

Henri Finch - out.