Black Eyes & Fun Guys

Ooh, now he was serious business. Lestrange was smart, in certain ways, but not smart enough it seemed. There was one cardinal rule in dealing with Jack Dyllan.

Don't tell her what to do.

And if he wanted serious, he could get serious.

"And you, then? What about your attitude?" She crossed her arms and stepped forward. "You don't get it both ways, y'know. You don't get to put on the Head Boy hat and tell me what to do because you're worried, and also egg me into a fight. Did you really think I'd hit you, again? You knew I wasn't going to. I was just gonna make jokes until you stormed off. You don't get to worry about me and call me a ' a pathetic, no-good, hand me down witch.' So let's do it now then, pick a lane, and ride it... mate."

She smiled, ever so politely. Seeing as he was just trying to look out for her and all.

he was fully aware of his own issues he needed to work through. He just did the appropriate thing and kept them bottled up inside until they exploded. Often, when he was speaking with Jack or in a room with Jack - but the mere thought of him brought him nearly no emotion.

Though maybe he did care a bit - she did seemingly prefer to annoy him over others.

Nah

"I'm not speaking to you as head boy or as someone who gives a sh*t about your well being." he groaned and took a step back. "I'm telling you to watch yourself because I'm sick of that attitude having adverse affects on not only me but other students."

He sighed and looked at the ground for a moment then back up - checking to see if his words had any affect at all.

"You know, you're right. I don't get to call you any names and egg you on but you're in so deep into your own lie that you can't even see it. I know I'm lying to myself, Jack; that's the main difference between you and me. So, when you're ready to get into the same lane find me and I'll help you when you're ready to admit it."

He began to walk past her.

"I'm just trying to look out for you," she said over him, quoting his words right back at him, but he pressed on.

She was getting mad now. As far as she knew, she was the most honest person in this castle. She didn't care what people thought, only did what she wanted, and didn't apologize just to apologize. If she said something, it was because she meant it. Or, she wanted to mean it, at the very least.

The point was, she hadn't earned a talking to from Matthew Lestrange. He was one of the few people she gave half a shit about - even if duelling got so intense that she sometimes had to take him down.

He walked past and she pivoted. "Roger Fawley," she called out, watching him. "He was the first one who called me a mudblood when I got here - didn't take 'til day two. He called me that every day for about a month. I didn't know what it was, and the people I asked refused to tell me so I didn't know until I heard another muggleborn ask you." She stared, face blank, a sensation of calm pulsating through her. "What you said wasn't technically cruel, but the way you said it was worse. I didn't like you after that, not at all. But I hated Roger even more. A few weeks later, you and I were talking in the Courtyard, I was probably asking what the homework was, and I heard him call you a blood traitor. I don't think you heard him, because you gave me this look after I went over and closelined him. It didn't have any power in it, that was before Quidditch and I was scrawny. His friends pulled me back and hexed me, making my feet go wild, but I tried to aim the kicks. That was my first detention."

She squinted her eyes. "I didn't do it for you. I did it because I hated Roger and I hate anyone who kicks someone while they're down, or holds their arms back during their fight, or picks on someone half their size, even if that person seems to hate who I am because of my parents. I know who I am, and I know what lane I'm in. Now, so do you. You don't have to like it, but you should at least know that."

She considered her own little speech, before nodding to herself. Yeah, that was all she wanted to say. She turned to walk away, before turning back. "The hair was only half a joke. Mine always gets frizzy but yours doesn't." The smallest arch of an eyebrow, before she turned back.