Vance Abernathy's Story

Victor Calza

An owl swooped by, dropping a note at Victor's feet. Victor had half a mind to simply light it on fire and walk away, considering the possibility that it could be from Justin, a pointless attempt to humiliate him or perhaps state his intentions to prove that he was up to no good. However, he thought he recognized the owl that had dropped it off, and it certainly wasn't Justin's pitiful little creature. He scooped up the note, reading the message. Noire. Delilah was perhaps the only member of House Cervus that he was even remotely interested in, due to their unnaturally frequent run-ins at the library. Victor half-believed the girl was purposely running into him, trying to catch his eye. Whatever her intent was, he did still have the book she was after. Perhaps he'd do something about that. But later. He folded up the note and slid it into his pocket. He had business to attend to now, and then class. He excelled at Transfiguration, and had always found Professor Ryther to be much more tolerable than the majority of her House.

How much can I trust you, he says. He sounds like my father. At least he has reason to not trust me.

Victor couldn't help but think of his father's words, and how similar they had been, not two days ago. He was convinced it had something to do with his placement in Vulpes House and not Arietem. The last Calza to end up in a House other than Arietem had been a distant relative of his, more than fifty years ago. His father probably thought Victor lacked the drive, the ambition to properly contribute as a Calza should. He'd prove him wrong in time.

But Vance Abernathy wasn't his father, and he didn't have any reason to trust Victor. The fact that he was asking for help at all was interesting, though. Vance didn't seem the type. Perhaps Nevaeh being gone weakened his position, though Victor had assumed that with her absence Vance would only receive further attention, and his command over his House would strengthen. He appreciated Vance's directness, however, lack of patience or no. Victor wasn't interested in going into his own misgivings about his summer, and he was sure Vance felt similarly. Something had obviously occurred within the Abernathy household, to warrant a change of school during a student's seventh and final year. It wasn't common in the slightest.

"Trust is... a difficult thing," Victor said, speaking quietly, not out of fear of people overhearing him, but because that was just the way he talked. Some would see it as simply respectful, keeping voices low in the halls. Victor would call it being discreet. If everyone was used to you being quiet, no one thought strangely of it when being quiet was necessary. "Personally, I'd say it's safer if we both agree to not trust each other. One thing that you can trust, however, is that I'm not looking to make any more enemies, least of all out of you. I've got enough of those from the righteous crowd already." Ivan the Terrible. He'd have to thank Delilah for delivering that one to him. It was indeed nice to know what the others spoke behind your back.

"That said, I wouldn't be against assisting a sensible person such as yourself, so long as you would be willing to return the favor, should I need it. What I want will remain my own business, for now, and of course, I'll not pry as to why it is you're asking for my help."

Victor certainly understood the value of having someone indebted to you, and calling in a favor from Vance Abernathy was certainly something he wouldn't mind having the ability to do. And so long as he wasn't demanding anything too outrageous, Victor didn't see why he should outright refuse to work with him. As he had said, he wasn't looking to make any enemies.

Delilah watched the two pureblood boys from across the Great Hall intently. She leaned in close and half hid behind her mug of tea, keeping it level with her chin. As Screech swooped over Victor’s head she bit down on her lower lip, so unsure of what she’d just committed herself to. As he collected the note from where her barn owl had dropped it at her feet the blond Cervus half cursed herself for having been so…outrageous. While the dark haired boy quickly read her note he made no response to it. The serious quality to his expression remained and Vance was no different, if not unhappy that whatever they had been discussing was interrupted. The look on his face made her feel small, but all the same somewhat determined. If he was bitter, she could be just as feisty.

Sighing, Delilah set her mug down on the table, turning to watch Rose pull Bliss away from the Cervus table. She smiled at her friends as they left before settling back into her seat, pulling her father’s note from her lap while Summer and Fel happily discussed their summer vacations.

Her father’s writing was hurried and his usual eloquence with words seemed beyond him. He was upset and she felt could do nothing but reread the words twice. Leaning her left elbow onto the table, Delilah held her head in her palm. Weaving her fingers through her wavy hair, she bit her tongue in order to prevent the true nature of her distress from crossing her face.

Delilah love, your mother has settled with her family. I received a call from your grandmother Josephine after you left. Apparently Linnea intends to stay there to, as I was told ‘think things through.’ For the first time she wants to try aggressive physical therapy which is good, as you know we’ve both fought with her for years about it. So far as I know she will be staying in Carolina on the ranch. She doesn’t wish to see me but if you should like, you can write her. She did apologize for hitting you love. I just wish she could have said it to you directly. I want nothing but for the two of you to be happy. Please enjoy your semester, so sorry for making you late. Give my regards to the headmaster and your professors. I’ll be making a few trips to the ministry in Britain and of course to visit with our own President. If I don’t respond quickly, that is why. Stay safe and know that I love you. Sincerely, Dad.

Swallowing, Delilah eyed the swarm of owls still circling above the Great Hall. Screech was still among them. Whistling lowly under her breath, Delilah watched as the small barn owl returned to the Cervus table. Using the remainder of her envelope she elegantly wrote a message she knew her father would understand. “Love you most.” Signing it with a heart, she let Screech take the note beyond the Great Hall and back to her father, wherever he was. Clutching the letter, and the address of her grandmother’s ranch in South Carolina, Delilah sighed and slid off of the bench to collect herself. She had to rush off to the Cervus dorms in order to collect her books and school supplies before first class. Her schedule was jammed this year as always but if she remembered correctly she had Transfiguration. Fortunately she’d read additional books on the topic this summer and while it wasn’t her strongest subject, she did well just the same with twice the effort put in.

As she moved beyond the Great Hall and into the corridors she found herself confronted with ever more students. Despite the crowds moving beyond breakfast and toward classes, Delilah walked along the walls dodging clusters of standing students until she reached the entrance to Cervus house. A first year was scrambling out, obviously having slept in. The small brown haired boy was nimble however, not even catching his foot on the ledge. With the door open she was able to slide in as he murmured the password to her as a reminder. A quick trip up the stairs had her facing her personal bed and belongings, the same trunk she'd trudged down the docks having been brought effortlessly in. As she popped the latches she was confronted with only a small assortment of clothing and a collection of books on top of textbooks and other supplies. Digging out her school bag, a black leather messenger, she ensured she had the appropriate books before slipping back out and on her way, all the while wondering where on earth Savant was.

Vance Abernathy – Building Better Bridges

The smile that Vance favored Victor with when he was finished might give the wily Vulpes reason to rethink his assessment. It was… odd, to say the least. A far cry from the usual courtly curves that he applied to his full lips. There was something knowing about it, something regal in a way that was suggestive of betrayed monarchs of days long past who had faced their fates with dignity. Without warning, he took a turn down a seldom used corridor; they were, apparently, going to take the long way to the Transfiguration classroom. The corridor in question was long and rather ill-lit, flanked on either side by dozens of suits of armor which snapped to attention, lifting their pikes as the two students passed them.

”I appreciate your candor.” It wasn’t just pleasant filler; he meant it. If Victor was over-analyizing Vance’s words and disposition, he’d find a subtle thread of conviction woven through every tic and syllable. ”I’m afraid, though, that you may be decidedly less interested in assisting me once I return the favor. Allying yourself with me will earn you more enemies than the righteous crowd, and they won’t show their enmity with pranks or condemnations.” The smile tapered off into a far grimmer, straightened set to his mouth. ”Therein lies the problem. The stakes are serious enough that I require trust. I’ve been betrayed far too many times already, and if that trend continues, well… “ He shrugged simply, and unclasped his hands in order to flex and then form a fist of the gloved one. ”I may have to resort to somewhat drastic measures.”

He slowed for a few paces, dwindling to a stop so that he could address Victor with the full gravity of his bearing. ”What would it take to secure you as an ally, Victor?” The switch to first name was, of course, hardly happenstance. It was meant to imply a degree of intimacy, and more than anything, the fact that Vance was treating with him as an equal rather than a lesser. ”Assume, for the sake of our purposes, that there is the potential for injury, death, or worse, but also the potential to do something that would make our futures within whatever branch of the Ministry we wished bright indeed.”

”What is your price?”

He couldn’t help but think of the price he’d already paid. A hand. A sister. Now, it seemed, his friends and his standing. It was easier to think of it all as an investment, in the interest of satisfaction. He folded his arms over his chest as he watched Victor carefully. The other young man was frighteningly intelligent and easily Vance’s better when it came to spell-work. He was ambitious, as well, which could work either in or against Vance’s favor. Double-edged. That was a good way to think about him, like a blade that could cut both ways. It was for that very reason that Vance sought to bring him in as a willing ally rather than to coerce or manipulate him.

”Of course, I can’t elaborate significantly until we’ve come to an arrangement… but I assure you that so long as you remain loyal to my cause, I will have no qualms in helping you deal with any… annoyances… that might distract you.” He smiled icily there.

Victor Calza

Victor smoothly fell back in with Vance as he abruptly changed course, leading them down a seldom-used, poorly lit corridor. Seldom used, perhaps, but not unfamiliar to Victor. He made a bit of a habit of taking the less-used passageways, if only to steer clear of the moronic masses, and to lessen the severity of his weekly headaches. It was now that he noticed the glove of dragonskin. The material was quite expensive, but of course, being from a family such as Victor's, he was not entirely unfamiliar with it. Still, Victor would never have chosen to wear such a thing, as it would have conveyed his wealth in a manner Victor would see as unnecessarily loud. There was power to be had in being wealthy, obviously, but there were also enemies to be made in flaunting it to others.

He made no comment on it, however, merely cataloged it for further investigation. As Vance spoke about the stakes of their potential agreement, Victor couldn't help but feel he'd stepped into something nasty. The potential for serious injury and death implied that Vance had stepped in something far worse this summer. But perhaps... if he stepped lightly... he could receive the benefits of allying with Vance, and avoid the repercussions. Things would need to be done with subtlety. But subtlety was something of a specialty of Victor's.

"There are a few things I would ask of you," Victor began slowly, choosing words carefully. Vance had practically offered to take care of the pathetic annoyances that plagued Victor, but Victor wouldn't be so foolish as to trade his services for simple pest removal. He could handle them himself, it it became necessary. No, he needed to think bigger here. Whatever issues that troubled him here at Magus Grex would soon be gone, one way or the other. He needed to think further ahead.

"First, our families have never been as close as they should be," he said. "I plan to show my family just how much ambition a Vulpes can have when I get out of here. I would welcome the full support of the Abernathy's when I make my move. I have my sights set very high, and will need the assistance of powerful families such as yours."

That was the public help he'd require. There were other things he believed he could acquire from Vance, however.

"Second, there is a more private matter you might be able to assist me with, but I'll not speak of it within these halls, no matter how secluded, and not during the daytime. We'll have to meet another time to discuss that, and see if you can help me."

That part he wasn't so sure about. It was a gamble, but if they were going to trust each other as Vance required, there was no reason Victor shouldn't try to get as much out of him as he could. The third part, however, he was quite sure about.

"And third, if my allying myself with you is as dangerous as you make it seem, then we'll need to keep this subtle. No more approaching me during breakfast in the Great Hall, where all the most fervent inquisitors of Ferre House can watch us and wonder. We speak only in private, preferably at night. I trust you won't be hindered by a curfew. Publicly, we're to appear indifferent at best, enemies at worst. This meeting did not go well, and no agreement could be made. No others are to know of our cooperation unless both of us approve."

He took a precautionary glance of the hall. "If this is agreeable with you, then you have me as an ally."

Vance Abernathy – Suspiciously Pleased

Vance had been expecting a fairly hefty list of demands. Even in the midst of his unburdening, though, he wasn’t fool enough to give any indication whatsoever that Victor was, in essence, low-balling himself. The undisclosed task could change that, surely, but if Victor had asked for the moon, Vance would have done his damnedest to comply. Particularly in light of the cunning that his potential ally showed with his requests.

”If we’re alive at the end of the year,” he intoned dryly, ”I’ll practically be the Abernathy name. Done, on that count.” It didn’t surprise him at all where Victor’s sights were set. In the modern day, the Ministry had become much more progressive than family’s such as there’s preferred, and even if he didn’t need Victor, he likely would have wheedled his parents into throwing support behind any bid that a Calza was willing to make. Come to think of it, his uncle would have need of an Undersecretary next year… but they’d have to make it to next year, first. It was easy to agree to a term that one might never have the opportunity to make good on, after all.

He nodded along in agreement as second stipulation came, and it went hand in hand with the third. Vance had planned to make a similar clarification of his own, and so he only kept nodding as Victor described the need to keep their arrangement between themselves. ”Agreed, and… let’s say tonight? The Quodpot pitch? Though not out in the open, of course. Beneath the western bleachers.” There were any number of places within the school that they could have met… but Vance didn’t trust Victor, not yet, and so he was loathe to meet somewhere less open in the event of an ambush.

His expression grew thoughtful. ”It’s no secret that you’re among the best wizards in the school. Provided that our meeting goes well, it might be in our best interest if you come up with some magical method for us to keep in touch. The less chance of us being spotted together, the better. I’m almost thinking we might want to stage some sort of public falling out. I’m reasonably sure that half the student body will think I’ve lost my mind by the end of the day, so an outburst on my part would be far from out of the question.” He let his shoulders rise and fall. ”We can sort that out tonight. Unless there’s anything else, we should likely take different routes to class.”

He shook out of his thoughtfulness, smiling that same odd smile again. ”I’m really not sure why we never had a conversation like this before. I find myself looking forward to working with you, Victor.” And looking forward to the protection and might that so skilled an ally would bring to the table. There was a very tiny seed of doubt in Vance’s mind, but he could put that to rest with finality when they met.

Victor Calza

"Beneath the western bleachers it is," Victor said, and the arrangement was made. He still wasn't entirely sure about this, but for better or worse, it was done. There was a good deal of potential in their partnership, but at the moment, Victor wasn't quite aware what he had just sold his services to do. Apparently he was endangering himself by allying with Vance, but it wasn't as though Victor hadn't faced danger before. He was as capable as any student at this school. And Vance had agreed to aid him without knowing all of what Victor was asking either. Perhaps there was some amount of trust forming already.

Victor wouldn't trust the guy to catch him if he fell backwards blind, but he did feel he could trust the Arietem to not do something stupid, which was far more than he could say for the majority of Magus Grex. And perhaps as the year went on, assuming their partnership produced some mutual benefits, he could trust him more. As for the public falling out... of course he'd do something like that if it were necessary, but hopefully it wouldn't come to that. Hopefully they could simply be discreet with their meetings, and the ignorant masses wouldn't suspect anything unnatural. Victor recalled a certain falling out Vance had had at the end of last year, with that Ferre, Halford. If he remembered correctly, it had come to blows, and then a duel. Victor wasn't fond of causing scenes like that. If it served a purpose, then it was understandable, but he still figured it would be better to avoid being the center of attention. Being ignored had a plethora of advantages.

"Likewise," Victor said, in response to Vance looking forward to working with him. With that, he returned the way they had come, allowing Vance to take the other route. It would perhaps seem strange that they hadn't had that conversation earlier, but a few things had changed recently, at least for Victor. He couldn't yet know Vance's situation, but the stakes had risen for Victor over the summer. There was doubt that needed to be put to rest. And things had changed here at Magus Grex between Victor and the Abernathy's. Most notably, Nevaeh was gone, a world away. Vance already seemed a different person this year.

As Victor made his own way to Transfiguration, a humorless scowl adorning his face, he was certain that this would at least make his final year significantly more interesting.

Garrett Flint

Flint hadn't really noticed, but most everyone seemed to be headed off to class. He was still busy on one last pancake. Come to think of it, it was a little strange that he wanted to eat anything at all, but he was actually starving. That was probably a good sign. In any case, he wasn't worried about missing class or anything, because surely Justin would get him at some point. Well, maybe Justin wouldn't, as he was so good at Potions that the actual class was a complete bore to him, but Emerson would. Right? Well, Emerson didn't seem all that into school, either, and he and Justin seemed to be getting along quite well over there. Maybe he should have been a little worried.

But his fears were put to rest when Justin came up to him from the short distance that separated them at the Cervus table. When he asked if he could grab Flint, that was how he knew that everything was indeed back to normal. "Fifty Galleons, huh? That's tempting... maybe if I got thirty of those, I'd consider it." At the mentioned of the Potions class they'd soon be headed to, Flint gave a snort. "Yeah, just make sure to warn me if any of my work looks dangerous before I test it out on myself this year."

There had been some... unfortunate results to some of his potions last year, and he figured Justin could have prevented about half of them. Still, it had been good for a laugh, and Flint was all for that.

The masses of students standing and wandering towards their morning classes rendered surveying the Great Hall very difficult for Vin as he stepped inside, stomach grumbling it's protest against his breakfast of a single piece of toast. He caught small glimpses of groups he'd become accustomed to seeing together: The Three Amigos were wandering off in a kickline of sorts, due for Potions probably, then there was Summer and Felix the Second, goofing around as usual, and Well, that's new. Vin paused his meandering toward the Vulpes table for a moment as he caught sight of Vance and Victor. The two vipers were talking to one another in what could only be described as a conspiratorial way. He watched for a moment as he absently grabbed food off the table and popped it into his mouth. He was surprised and delighted to find it had been green grapes, instead of purple, he'd always liked green best.

Shrugging, he actually looked to the table now and piled a few "to go" items into his hand, knowing Myra would have his head on a platter if he was late to the first class of the year. Past that, she didn't seem to be her brother's keeper, but the first class proved pivotal in her opinion. Thinking of... Vin looked down the Vulpes table without much vehemence, assuming Myra had already taken off for class, it was 10 minutes before classes started after all: "late" in the Myra-speak. Again, his nonchalance was knocked off balance as he saw her, sitting across from Finn, actually carrying on a conversation. A real, respectable-looking, non-one-sided conversation with a guy! A momentary swell of pride in his sister's finally gaining the ability to branch out swelled, then was immediately quenched by hatred for Finn. He was such a play boy, with a veritable harem of women following him around, sighing and signing their names "Mrs. Finn Pollack." How dare he get Myra's hopes up by giving her this special attention? She's fragile and could easily take this as some sort of favoritism, even attraction. The proctective older brother raged in Vin, begging him to walk up and punch Finn in the face. As was Vin's nature though, he acknowledged the thought, let it through his mind, then set it aside. He wasn't one for violence in any form, preferring the teachings of Gandhi, so he breathed in the good, out the bad, and let himself calm down.

He watched, gratefully, as Lloyd wandered over and tossed a grape at Finn's forehead. "Okay, cool it." he told himself under his breath. Taking a moment to breath in and then out again, he fully regained his zen and popped a grape in his mouth as he made his way over, a lazy grin on his face. "Morning Myra!" He walked over and would have given her a noogie but she turned, eyes wide and dodged out of the way, snagging his hand with both of her dainty ones.

"I don't think so!" She giggled.

He chuckled and nodded to Finn. "G'mornin' Finn!" Then looked at Lloyd and winked a thank-you for breaking up what could have been the beginning of a broken-hearted sister, "Lively Lloyd." Then he turned back to his sister, linked her arm in his and pulled her to stand, "Aren't you late for class Little Miss Muffet?"



Myra had been pushing scrambled eggs around with her fork, waiting for the inevitable laughter from Finn at her comment about Quodpot. She waited, then looked up, and he was just smiling at her. No laughter, nothing said to make her feel defeated or deflated. On the contrary, she felt emboldened by his smile, encouraged even. Does he think I'll be alright on a team? Before she even had time to develop the thought, her blush began again, but was dropped almost immediately as a rogue purple grape suddenly came into her vision and hit Finn smack between the eyes. She was so stunned she wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry or both, so she just blinked at him, wide eyed. She followed the reverse path of the projectile fruit and found Lloyd slowly lowering hand and smiling cheekily. All at once Myra was relieved and miffed, one for the saving grace that was another human entering the conversation, the other because she'd finally had a semi-decent one on one experience with Finn. She waved weakly at Lloyd and just as she was turning to ask Finn what he was thinking, something within her told her that Vin was approaching, so, still slightly in shock from the quick change of events, she turned and looked. Her eyes growing wide as she swooped out of the way of his noogie, expertly blocking the fist she'd grown accustomed to fending off through her lifetime. "Morning Myra!" She scowled playfully at her twin. Her hair looked good on it's own today, who was he to mess it up before first period?! "I don't think so!" She giggled as she released his hand.

Waiting politely as he greeted everyone at the table, Myra shot Finn an apologetic smile. She couldn't look straight at him though, still slightly worried about what he might be thinking about the whole situation, so she began to stuff her face again. Just as she was raising a conglomerate forkful of eggs, bacon, and a tiny bit of pancake to her mouth, she found herself being pulled to a standing position by an arm linked around her elbow. She considered following the now floating fork with her mouth, but found it to be a little too unladylike in front of Finn, so she snatched the fork from her left hand with her right and defiantly shoved the food in her mouth. She shot a humorous glance at Lloyd, hoping for some appreciation of her talent, then set the fork down daintily.

"Aren't you late for class Little Miss Muffet?" Myra's mouth opened to retort against her very least favorite of all Vin's nick-names for her when what he'd said sunk in. A small "eep!" emitted from her mouth, almost as though she'd seen a spider or a slug had landed on her hand (not that either of these things would have bothered her) and turned to the clock. It read 5 till. Her heart-rate sky-rocketed. Oh no! Defense Against the Dark Arts! Professor Hughes is going to be so unhappy with me if show up late! Before she could even think about it she gave Vin a quick hug, smiled at Finn, waved a quick goodbye to Lloyd and headed off toward the DADA hall. She threw her bookbag over her shoulder as she walked, then realized how completely rude she'd just been, so she turned her head and looked back as she walked forward quickly.

"See you all lat-" She ran into something, hard. Making a dainty "oof" sound she turned, utterly embarrassed, and quickly mumbled, "I am so sorry, I was going to be late for class and wasn't watching where I was go--- oh god." Her heart sank as her eyes had drifted up the tall form of a very stern looking man, as her gold eyes met his green ones her heart stopped entirely. Utter fear and extreme thrill simultaneously shot through her system, but she wouldn't let her eyes leave his. Somehow it felt like she'd have lost a challenge if she'd broken eye contact. Despite this, a blush flushed her face and butterflies burst to life in her stomach even as every molecule in her body told her to turn and run. This is the absolute worst first day of school I've ever had in my life, perhaps simply the worst day ever. The icy dullness of shock started to spread through her body as she realized just what a horrible mistake she'd made. Her brain started flying, trying to decide on all possible outcomes of the situation, until she landed on what she hoped was the best plan of action: apologize and get the hell out of there. Pulling herself together as best she could, she reminded herself to speak elegantly because she was sure he would only respond well to eloquence. Myra spoke as levelly and calmly as possible.

"Vance, I sincerely apologize. I should have been paying attention to my destination, I was rushed due to a pressing time constraint for the beginning of class. I know this is no excuse. I won't make the same mistake in the future." And before he could have time to respond, she looked to her destination, side stepped, and walked calmly (if briskly) on her way.

When she had finally exited the Great Hall she let the air she'd trapped in her lungs escape. She felt like she might faint. If there was ever a way to get on someone's evil side it was to run smack into them. She started to wallow in her own pity, cursing herself for having been so stupid, when she noticed a familiar face she hadn't seen yet: Summer. Immediately Myra's body radiated warmth and her pace quickened a tiny bit until she'd wrapped her up in a tight hug.

"Summer! Oh, Summer! How did I not see you yesterday?" She stepped back and smiled awkwardly at Felix, unsure what to say to him. After a moment, she turned back to her best female friend, "I've missed you so much and need you now more than ever! Let's catch up on the way to Defense Against the Dark Arts, yeah?" She beamed and turned toward the classroom, her body language beckoning Summer to join her.

Vance Abernathy - Lost in Thought

Vance was paying a vague sort of attention to where he was going. Despite the need for vigilance, he was unable to keep himself from circumspection about what had already been an entirely eventful morning. If he could win Victor over, his position would have changed drastically. He needed the Vulpes’ cool calculation nearly as much as his magical prowess, especially given how… erratic he was behaving. So long as Victor could temper and compliment that erraticism, though, it would be a boon. No doubt, his grandfather was feeding all manner of information on his habits and attitudes to his pawns.

Feed away, you old fool. The boy you’re informing on died with his sister. The only lead I follow now will be my own, and you’ll see how gravely you erred in choosing her over me. I was the more worthy all along.

There would be fallout in Arietem to contend with, but let the rats scurry awhile. Perhaps in their scurrying, a few of the real traitors would be revealed. It would hardly surprise him to find most of the pieces the old man had in play were fellows of the proud ram. Who else would be so susceptible to whispers of the Dark Arts, to promises of power? The chances of him parlaying with any Ferre beyond Fletcher were dim, but perhaps if he could win him over, he wouldn’t need to. He could let Felix treat for him. An amusing prospect, enough so to bow those full lips of his a bit as he turned down yet another corridor, his feet unconsciously set on a path that would bring him round to a stairwell that led almost directly to the Transfiguration classroom.

Cervus… was a non-issue. None of them would be seduced by what old men in black cloaks had to offer, but neither would they be of much use against those who would. This would be a war of shadows, one that would hardly require the meat shields of the doe house.

His musing was abruptly interrupted when something- no, someone- collided with him. Strictly speaking, they were both in motion, but as the larger of the collidees, Vance could draw the distinction easily enough. His reaction was as fast as a pit viper lashing; Myra would, fear in her eyes, find them staring at the tip of Vance’s new wand, held lightly in a hand gloved by ebon dragonskin. His countenance was something fierce, but only for an instant before he realized who it was that had run into him. The Magaly girl. The other twin. Myra, was her name. He lowered his wand, making ready to offer an apology for his overreaction, but before he could, she had made a rather impressive apology, one more than fitting for the same boy that his grandfather so misjudged. She’s even more adept than you thought.

Small wonder that she hurried off, being drawn upon. Vance’s forehead furrowed as he turned to watch her go, wondering what exactly she had made of the exchange. Would it make her more difficult to approach, or might it serve as evidence of the claims he would have to make when he did? He blinked slowly, realizing that, in his musing, he had overshot and nearly returned to the Great Hall.

You need to be more cautious.

Caution had never been his strong-suit, and likely never would. He’d leave caution to Calza. Still, he’d never needed to be particularly aware in the hallways. It was something he’d have to teach himself. He was so used to people moving from his path that he barely paid attention, and that could prove deadly or worse this year.

Stowing his wand almost reluctantly, he turned to backtrack for the stairwell and the classroom beyond.

Lloyd had settled herself back down, her face just a tad more pale than it had been. Everyone got up from the table without a word to disappear up to classes. But as she thought before, it was normal for her. She then turned back to the remaining group consisting of Myra, Vin, and Finn at the Vulpes table. She barely caught Vin's wink at her, and she shrugged lightly, thinking to herself now.

The Ferre opened her mouth to ask Vin something, but abruptly closed it as he started to talk to the others. She turned back to her plate and rested her elbow on the wood, her chin propped up in her palm, blowing her hair out of her eyes. She glanced down towards her robe pocket, and her demeanor changed as her thoughts shifted, and she picked out the small watch she kept there. It was definitely almost time for classes, and she'd probably just have to catch Vin afterwards.

Well, she hoped that he'd consent, but if not she could just do it on her own. It would be a lot easier if he were to come along though. Then again, maybe she could save Naire again and drag him along instead. She shook her head lightly, then heard her own name called. "Heya." She said distractedly, then turned to watch Myra get up and leave, running into Vance.

Two. She put up her index and middle finger thoughtfully, then set down her hand.

The Ferre watched as the last few students began to depart, her figure stiffening up a bit as she watched Victor leave. She really didn't like him, he creeped her out on many levels. She just looked back down and away before turning back to Finn and Vin. Lloyd glanced at the fork to her left, tempted to stab her own hand with it. But she quickly dismissed the thought. She needed both of her hands.

So instead, she got up and stretched a bit, picking up her violin case. "Well, I'm off to class...." She announced to really no one in particular, seeing as there were only about five people left in the Great Hall anyway. The first year was still here, waiting for Finn's help and looking extremely panicked and lost. Walking towards the large doors, she began to hum a soft tune to herself.

Melvin could barely contain his laughter as he watched his twin dodge out of the great hall, bump into her biggest nightmare and slink off to class. Vin found it extremely amusing that Vance was probably the one person Myra talked about with utter terror but the dalai lama that was his sister still found it in her overly kind heart to feel for the guy as well. Vin pondered on that for a moment. The guy wasn't really all that bad, he guessed. He'd been in Vin's spot once upon a time, the brother of his twin sister, keeping an eye on her however subtly. I wonder what it would be like if Myra transferred to Beaubatons or something... Vin dismissed the thought almost as quickly as it came. His sister was his absolute best friend in the world, there was no way he'd want to finish out his years at Magus without her. If she transferred... He'd just have to dawn a wig and go with her. There was such a strong bond between twins, stronger than any other sibling pair, living without her just didn't feel right. It'd be like losing half of himself, even if she was only half a world away.

He shrugged, deciding not to dwell in sadness, and turned back to the table. Vin eyed then grabbed an un-doctored pancake and folded it like a taco. He allowed a friendly smile to cross his face toward Finn, "Sorry man, she's got this thing about classes." He really did like Finn, the guy was great, very upstanding. Really, he'd be the perfect match for his stickler-for-the-rules sister, but as it was, no one would ever be truly perfect in Vin's eyes. He'd been there for the crashes and burns that had been Myra's first few crushes. He ached when she was in pain, and it was like his "elderly brother duty" to make sure she didn't hurt ever again. Momentarily, Vin flipped the coin in his head, pictured her comforting him after a break-up or a broken heart and a chagrined smile crossed his face. Probably much better than he'd done for her, if he was honest. She'd always been better at that Florence Nightingale bit. Looking at the clock, he bit off one end of the pan-co and spoke around it, "Actually, come to think of it, I should be heading -"

"Well, I'm off to class..." Vin looked to Lloyd as she stood abruptly and grabbed her violin case, his right eyebrow lazily arching as it occurred to him she'd just finished his sentence, however slightly. It wasn't rare that she did thinks out of the ordinary, really, he'd come to expect it, but her mood had changed so much from the morning that he didn't quite understand. He watched her quizzically as she stalked out of the great hall. Shrugging, he finished off his breakfast treat, washed the remainder down with Myra's leftover milk, then flicked a salute to Finn as a farewell. Just as he was taking off after her, the clock began to chime off to his right and he sighed, "So much for getting to class on time..."

He continued his relaxed gait, even if a little speed had been added to it, and eventually caught up to Lloyd. "Hey! I'll walk to class with you. Don't think I didn't notice you there, you just get quite sometimes," he gently nudged her elbow with his own, "We're late you know?" And then he let his palm rest on the middle of her back and quickened the pace a little until they'd reached the DADA room, entering just in time for Hughes to begin his yearly speech about safety and what not. Dropping his hand from Lloyd's back, Melvin made his way over to the seat next to Myra and smiled at her. Even though she never turned toward him, her attention on the teacher, she hid her right hand behind her left and made a few quick hand signals, a type of sign language they'd created together when they were young, "You're late." Vin shrugged, then turned towards the teacher, ready to zen out during class, as usual.

Summer Turner

Summer had been out of place in her present class, so attention seemed to be very lacking as she thought of last night in the library with Flint. She had her legs crossed in her Cervus skirt, so she would be able to straighten her back successfully to appear as though her attention was on the teacher at full blast. She had learned that from her sister that the better posture you have the less likely you are question about where you attention was at. She had cast a spell on the pencil on her desk to write down whatever the teacher said was important. She had no time to waste on this class because she wanted to go talk to Flint right now and see how he was. It was like as soon as Justin walked up he went back to be Bliss' ex-boyfriend and not just her friend that she could talk to about anything.

Hearing a pop at the front of the classroom, Summer's eyes met the teacher's who just smiled at her and continued on after getting on to another student near the back on the class. Bliss was right about one thing; posture does something other than make you look proper. Looking up at the near clock that seemed to be going slower than Christmas, Summer let her thoughts run wild at the possibilities this year could have for her. Ten more minutes and you're at lunch. Just last ten more minutes. Her thoughts were cheering her on to last just ten more minutes, but she knew they would feel like hours as each passing minute went by.

"Summer, darling. Do you know the answer to what I have asked?" Frozen. Summer realized her back had arched and that she was staring at the door to the classroom rather than somewhere near the teacher. Say something. "No ma'am. I'm sorry." She looked down at her fingers that were now her escape from being ridiculed for her lack of attention, but it seemed the teacher let her off easy with a warning. Luckily for her, class was ending sooner rather than later as the ten minutes flew by. Gathering up her belongings, she made a straight shot for the door with no hesitation. Seeing the flood of students being released from their classes, Summer quickly made it through until she spotted Myra. "Hey M." She said with a quick hug as they escaped the treacherous views of the teachers and found their way to an open spot in the Great Hall.

Once sitting, the girls found themselves talking about what they had done in class and other small things until Summer needed to tell Myra about her late night in the library with Flint. She straightened out her skirt, so Myra knew she was about to spill something big. The girls always over-exaggerated stuff about boys to mock the other girls that actually would drool over the slightest interaction with someone like Vance or Zackariah. Summer and Myra were both smart enough to know who was good for them and who needed to be kept at a distance. "I was in the library last night with F--"

"Fire in the hole!" With the conversation at a stand-still, Summer looked to see Lyle and Vin with wands in hand. As her sight moved higher, she saw the water balloons on their departure. She felt a squeal form in her throat until Myra was on her feet, casting a protection spell that seemed to not let one drip of water touch their uniforms. Summer smiled at her best friend as she felt herself being dragged up from the table and forced to run in a full sprint, which was something Summer did not do. She giggled as she felt the arms of one of the boys around her, feeling the wetness from the backfire drench her uniform. Turning to see Lyle, Summer shook her head before the boys were back off in a full retreat. She looked over at Myra giving the most devilish look. "Let them have this one. They won't expect a thing." She laughed as she hooked her arms into Myra's, so the two could walk back towards the Great Hall.

Summer had let the thought about Flint slip her mind, finding a seat far away from the other students. She knew most people had saw the success of Myra's spell, but then of course saw the boy's comeback. She was in no mood to be laughed at or even stared at for that matter. Summer knew that she had been on edge lately, but she knew Myra was one of the few to keep her down to Earth. "So now that we know who our enemies are.. What will be our next attack, Captain?" She joked as she brought her left leg up to sit on top of it.

---

Bliss Turner

Bliss had loaded up her schedule with a full-load of classes for her last year because she knew of all people to be able to handle it, she was one of the few. She had just finished the pre-test for the present class when she saw that she had finished it before any other student. She let her eyes close as she shifted to a scene of the summer. It was the night she had taken Felix to the local town fair that Bliss and Summer had went to since Summer moved to town, but Summer had opted out to go visit her mother's grave. For some reason, Bliss could not push herself to go with her sister this time, so she was happy that the timing was right for her to be able to spend some time with Felix.

Felix was right on time as Bliss stood out in front of the fair gate, waiting upon his arrival. Seeing him for the first time with Summer not by her side was something that Bliss had been looking forward to for quiet some time now. "My, my. Mr. Fletcher. You seem to be lost." The playfulness in Bliss' voice was obvious to the point that she had found herself smiling from ear to ear. "I was begin to think you would keep me waiting all night, but you're obviously not that kind of guy." She smiled as she let her arm intertwine with Felix's, guiding him into the fair. Looking at Felix, Bliss felt herself opening up to the possibility of more with the guy that she had not given a second thought to as her last relationship with Flint was more than she had imagined.

Garrett Flint. His name rung into her head over and over again until she found her memory move far from the fair and into her last year at Magus Grex. Somehow through the year, Bliss had became very fond of Flint faster than any guy she had dated at Magus Grex. She found herself smiling constantly at the small jokes the two would pass back and forth. She guessed that her fondness came from how similar he was to Justin, but that he was actually into the part she offered rather than the parts of the opposite sex. He was somebody that she could be herself with, drawing her closer to him. Near the end of the year, things seemed so different between the two though. Bliss would never voice that she still wanted him as more than just a friend, but she knew that if she even mentioned the word more that their friendship would no longer exist. Ending things mutually seemed to be better, so that she could still have him close.

It seemed bringing Felix into her life was the perfect way to get over Flint until she realized that Felix was more than the perfect match for her, but something was still telling her to open up to Flint. She would have if she hadn't seen Flint with Summer and Justin, so voicing her feelings would be harder than she thought. She needed to tell him, so she could move on and give her whole heart to Felix. "Miss Turner.. Miss Turner!" Bliss' eyes shot open as she saw that class had ended and she was the last in the classroom. She let a small breathe escape her lips as she felt her cheeks flush at the way her thoughts had went. She needed to stop herself from letting Flint back into her head, so she grabbed her small bag of school books and headed towards the Great Hall.

It seemed with every step she took she had actually taken five. Her mind was playing tricks on her today, so she brushed the sleep that had built in her eyes from the small dream that was more of a nightmare considering it was trying to convince her to pretty much ruin the friendship she had with Flint and openly admit to Felix that her feelings were not solely his. She was tired of the boy trouble in her life. Once inside the Great Hall, she found that a scene had happened only seconds before her arrival. Spotting water across the floor of the Great Hall, Bliss smirked seeing Lyle and Melvin drenched in water. The possibilities of how the boys ended up the way the were now made her smile bigger.

She spotted her sister with Myra with water on their uniforms, but not as much as the other boys. She would have to ask Summer what had happened later on today, but now she needed to find Justin more than anything. She looked around the Great Hall and saw not a trace from the boy, but then she heard the news. "Yeah, that Emerson guy.. And Felix! They blew themselves up! Like seriously! Kaboom!" Bliss froze as she heard the name Felix of the girl's mouth, but soon she realized it was not her Felix. She was flooded with relief until she knew exactly where to find Justin. Bliss had made her way across the courtyard where she spotted Justin hovering outside the Infirmary entrance. "Are they okay?" She asked as she wrapped her arms around Justin's neck. "I just heard what happened."

She awaited his reply knowing that her original cause for finding him was now pushed aside until she could calm him down from his freak out mode that she knew was present as soon as Emerson was revealed to be one of the ones in the incident.

---

Zackariah Everett

Zackariah was beyond irritated with the way things were going in class. He was out of his element after the way he exploded at Priscilla and Sam before classes began. He ran his hands through his hair as class moved on. Nothing spectacular happened of course, so he kept attention to the least amount without being called out for lack of. He was seated at the opposite side of the classroom from Vance, and he soon regretted to decision as he realized that his side seemed to be the one that the teacher favored more. He replied when spoken to, but that was also to a minimum with the amount of words actually replied back to the teacher.

He was sitting near one of the fellow Arietem when the girl leaned closely to Zackariah. He tensed as the girl seemed to hover in the space for far too long before speaking, "Did you hear how Vance just gave up his spot as Captain? He just quit." Zack's tension came to a max as he grabbed the girl's wrist before he could stop himself. "Bullshit." The word along with the wrist-grabbing was such a quick movement that the teacher barely caught the scene before asking Zack if there was a problem. He stiffened as he glared across the room, "No problem at all." He had fixed his gaze on a bookshelf when he finally heard the signal of class ending.

"Sorry about the.. your wrist." Apologizing to the fellow Arietem before he realized that Vance was already out of the classroom. Zackariah bolted for the door to find that Vance was barely down the hall, walking by himself. Pushing through other students, Zack found himself beside Vance within seconds. "Why the fuck does some bitch from our house tell me you quick the team before you do?" Even with the hint of agitation, Vance would know that Zack meant nothing bad from the tone. "What's going on?" He knew that in order for Vance to quit the one thing that he loved at the school meant something was going down.

”They won’t be when I get my hands on them!”

He wasn’t even sure who’d asked him. He’d been pacing back and forth for several minutes now, practically wearing a furrow in the manicured grass. His right hand sort of hung at his side, index finger curling and uncurling as he drummed the others on his hips. He’d quite smoking two years previous (having started early at the tender age of twelve), but every so often, the urge to start up again hit him like a semi-truck, and his smoking hand started getting antsy. He had to do something to keep it, even more so since his first instinct was to storm the infirmary and wring Teen-Wolf’s neck with it.

He finally came to a stop when she wrapped her arms around him, and took a deep breath. ”They’re fine,” he seethed. He was glad they were fine, actually, but he was still angry. Mostly at himself, but, it was much easier to be angry at them. Particularly Felix. Being mad at Emerson, he knew, would only last until he actually saw him, but he’d be able to nurse a small grudge against his partner in stupidity for a good long while… except he couldn’t, he realized. He had to make the kid his friggin’ potion. A fresh wave of exasperation hit him, so he closed his eyes and started counting backward from ten. By six, his eyes snapped open and he sucked down another deep breath. Oh yeah. Bliss was still hanging off him, probably wanting to know what happened. Probably there to keep him from doing anything insane, actually. She knew how deep his feelings for Em ran, so of course she’d sought him out the instant she’d heard.

”They got some burns, but they’ll be okay. At least that’s what that hermaphroditic sawbones they call a nurse told me. He/she won’t actually let me in to see him. Err. Them. Something about the place being too full for visitors. And then I was yelling, and then we were both yelling, and…” he sighed. ”Anyway, they’re fine.” He wriggled out of her grasp, turning to face her. His right hand started doing its tic again, and he quickly grabbed the wrist above it with his left, trying to becalm it.

He should have been paying more attention to Emer- to them. Hell, they’d even discussed as much before chorus-lining their way up to class. He’d sat with Flint, though, and between the two of them they’d finished the assignment well before Hutson was obviously expecting them too. Then they’d started daring each other to eat gross potion ingredients, and well, Justin had been sort of distracted. He’d glanced over every so often, and actually glanced over right when the contents of the cauldron combusted in their faces. He’d dashed over, his amusement at the facial contortions that Flint was going through after choking down some beetle legs dying abruptly. Hutson had shooed him off, taking charge of the situation, and told Justin to check the rest of the class’s work while he tended to the two injured boys. Normally, he would have been a little flattered, but in the moment he’d just been pissed at the obvious ploy to keep him trapped in the classroom.

He blinked out of the memory, looking to Bliss. ”I’m fine,” he said after gauging the look she was giving him. ”I’ll be fine. Do you want to take my wand or something? Because you have that ‘Don’t Do Anything Crazy, Justin’ look on your face, so, if it makes you feel better, here.” He produced his wand and let it lay flat in his hand as he offered it to her. ”Or you can just distract me. Or… oh, Sorkin-walk.” He started forward, stowing his wand and grabbing her by the hand to pull her along. She was never very good at starting the Sorkin-walks. There was one upside to Em’s being stuck in the infirmary all day; it meant he could take care of his present without arousing any further suspicion. ”You should talk to Flint, by the way,” he said absently, hardly knowing that she’d wanted to broach that exact same subject. He’d mentioned it because of the cancer thing. He had a feeling Flint might need someone a little more… he couldn’t decide if he was looking for empathetic or busty… to talk to about that. In Justin’s opinion, Bliss fit either bill nicely. It wasn’t his place to spill those particular beans, though, so he’d just suggest that they speak non-chalantly.






Transfiguration had been a welcome distraction. He’d been among the last to arrive in the classroom, and so he’d wound up sitting between a pair of particularly dull Cervus students who hadn’t uttered a word for the class’s entire duration. Vance had always enjoyed Transfiguration. There was a certain finesse required in the subject. Potions had too much chopping and crushing and stirring; it made him feel like a scullery maid. Too often, Charms class got very undignified, depending upon what they were studying. Days where they practiced mood-altering spells almost always left him with a headache after the antics he was forced to endure. Transfiguration, though… well, it was enjoyable.

It was even more engrossing than usual, thanks to the difficulty posed by working advanced magic with an unfamiliar wand. He’d never paid much attention to wand lore; it was one of those things one either had a knack for or simply didn’t. For the first time, though, he actually felt something as he worked the spell of the lesson (conjuring colored glass, with a lean toward producing forms that were interesting and aesthetically pleasing). At first he’d been agitated by its unresponsiveness, but then he’d almost felt… soothed. As if it understood, and wanted him to succeed. He’d fallen single-mindedly into the work, and by the end of the period had painstakingly produced a tiny replica of his aunt’s famous garden in multi-colored glass. It was one of his favorite places, though he’d not be fain to admit that aloud. It was peaceful there, fragrant and lazy, the sort of place that anyone would love to while away a summer at.

He’d packed it carefully in his bag; it would make a good gift for one of his female relations, though he couldn’t quite decide who. If he survived to the winter holidays, he’d make the choice then. With class dismissed, he swept quickly out of the room, intending to get something to eat quickly (skipping breakfast was catching up with him) and then retire to his bedroom to await the next class. He needed to work out a better plan for his meeting with Calza, whom he had pretended was invisible and mute for the entirety of their shared lesson.

”Zack,” he intoned lazily in response, nodding an acknowledgement to his current best friend. The other boy’s irritation didn’t seem to affect Vance in the slightest; it certainly didn’t spur him to hastily compose a reply to his question. There’d be a lengthy enough pause before he spoke again. He’d thought about it, earlier, and arrived at his decision quickly enough that it seemed like the right way to proceed. ”I was hoping we could speak. I think it’s no longer in your best interest to be my friend.” It was brusque, matter of fact, and hardly an answer to the question, at least, not directly.

Zack was capable enough, as capable as any other seventh year… but there was one thing that set him apart from the many others that Vance might have drawn into his machinations: Vance actually liked him. He didn’t want to drag him in; he didn’t want to feel responsible if someone used their relationship to harm him by harming Zack. No, it would be better this way. Zack could just be his playboy self, none the wiser that his former-friend was embroiled in a battle against a cadre of Dark Wizards and their unnumbered teenage pawns.

His lips pursed into a somewhat contrite smile. ”It’s absolutely nothing personal. And really, if the other seventh years would have stood for it, I’d have made you captain in my place in a heartbeat.” He reached out, patting Zack on the shoulder in a way he hoped might be some comfort, using his flesh and blood hand. ”Was there anything else?”

None of those in Seventh Year Transfigurations really had to take notice of Sam, not for very long ,Bliss, in typical fashion, was done well before the other students with the test work and this did slightly annoy Sam who had only ever really excelled in transfigurations before. But that was years past, and while he was the third to finish the test when the practical came about halfway through the class time he took the small lump of glass and tapped it thrice, muttering the spell Fera Verto Chromata with seemingly no emotion a blue green semi-transparent goblet rose as he pulled his wand away on the first try, something that while decently impressive was it was not exactly unexpected from Sam, he was always ahead of the curve in the practical transfigurations. The question had been raised as to why he wasn’t an animagus yet but he always replied that “the paperwork is murder” in getting the permit registered. Just an excuse, the truth was that he didn’t care to change such as most transfigurations would.

Sam headed to the Great Hall early due to this, which was something that he wanted. He entered stealthily into the DADA room as the students were reading an assigned passage and gave the Professor a few reams of parchment, probably a N.E.W.T. Paper assigned over the summer before heading on. Sam was meant to patrol the corridors that evening and so his training would have to be rescheduled. He had decided before first Period to take up the extra time he had gained to make up for lost training in his journey and thus ate swiftly before heading out to his room to change.

He’d change into a simple training outfit, some athletic shorts, a simple white tee, his stowed his wand in his pocket and headed down to exit the grounds. He knew exactly where he was going and moved with a purpose, refusing to think back to the morning’s unpleasantness, he had a schedule to keep, he’d beat himself up later for his stupidity… well, he’d beat himself up more later.

When he entered the clearing he was pleased to find it untouched. The large Oaks that ringed the area were still green and beautiful, but the forest floor was still covered in their fallen leaves from years past. At one side, seemingly one with the roots of the trees and the forest floor, was a white oak wood piano. It had been transfigured here years before; by someone will far greater skill in the art than Sam had, probably greater skill than even Professor Ryther, if not the work of the Professor herself. Either way it had been where he’d spent a lot of time with Delilah last year, where he practiced his piano. But this clearing now had a new purpose for him. He took a duelling stance as he drew his wand. His breathing steadily increased before he shouted, “Flippendo!” it was a simple force spell, though from a wizard at his level with a full shouted incantation it had a great deal of force. The spell shot forward and as it went he flicked his wand again, “Reflecto!” a wall of shimmering air like heat rising from a blacktop burst into life about ten yards from him, average dueling distance. This was perfectly timed so as to catch the flippendo before it got away and reflected the spell back at the caster as the perfect shield charm should, in this case that caster being Sam himself.

Rather than attempt to cast the shield charm again he allowed the first spell to slam into him, it hit low on his right thigh, knocking his leg form under him and bringing him to one knee and he grunted against the pain. It was like getting punched but it was familiar. He stood swiftly and repeated the process. And after a few more shouts he had a rhythm going where he no longer chanted the simple spell he could easily have mentally cast before and instead of going for quality was going for quantity, throwing in a few cutting spells that left gashes at several points on his body when reflected back at him. He began trying to get a second shield charm up before the spells hit him in defence but was finding it difficult to do so. As another verbally cast pushing spell slammed into his right shoulder and knocked him to the ground hard he finally rested for a moment.

His body ached, as it should and he couldn’t help but think back to his tutors lessons. If he couldn’t regularly block his own spells from hitting him even after reflecting them he would never make a great Auror. He’d never stop others from feeling the pain of loss he had.{i}”You’re a fool boy!”

“I’m reflecting them every time! Isn’t that fast enough?”

“Oh, ‘ou think castin’ a shield charm before the spell gets away means ‘ou’re ready for a fight? Fine!” the Irishman drew his wand and fluidly cast a stunning spell at Sam unexpectedly. The young man was quick, but nowhere near quick enough hand soon found himself, as he did now, flat on his ass staring up at the sky. “See! If ‘ou don’t know what’s coming ‘ou hav’ to be quicker! Again!”[/i]

Sam stood, unaware if anyone had just been happening to walk by at that moment, as classes had let out and many students went into the woods for lunch, and again cast a spell, this time a stunning spell. He reflected it and just as it returned, inches from his chest, he made a parrying like motion and silently cast a different shield spell. He would have smiled if he wasn’t so tired. He finally felt more content and sat on the bench of the Piano, something he’d been careful not to hi, and looked himself over. At least a dozen bleeding cuts, his shirt was decently ruined, but it was a throwaway. He knew some healing but was unsure if he’d be able to stitch them up properly as tired as he was. He resigned to just rest a few minutes, almost wishing his tutor was there, at least then he’d have someone to help him heal his self-inflicted wounds.

Transfiguration was an elegant way in which to start the day, or so Delilah thought. The room was full up by the time Professor Ryther arrived, sorting herself out at the head of the room.

"Of course," Victor replied. She could feel the blush spread across her cheeks intensely. Who thanks someone for showing concern? she thought, almost kicking herself mentally before the Vulpes added, "I'd be willing to wager that by the end of this class, we'll have some far more entertaining mishaps than a simple fall."

His comment made her smile widen and Delilah couldn’t help but agree with a low giggle. It was hard to imagine laughing when this morning had gone as it had. With an elegant cursive she titled her book as well, filling in her name on an information card on the front before mentioning if he’d gotten her note. He was quick to respond.

"I did," he replied. “Oh good! I wasn’t sure, the hall was busy this morning,” she told him. It was doubtful that Screech would ever fail her, the barn owl was smart enough not to dawdle or get lost. Still, she felt obligated to ask, if only out of curiosity and a desire to keep the conversation flowing.

"I would gone to speak with you then, but I was preoccupied, as I'm sure you saw. I probably should have talked to you, though, instead of wasting my time with Abernathy," He explained dismissively. She nodded, licking her lips and knowing full well that the two boys had been deep in conversation, serious looks plastering their features, when she’d sent it over. Victor had seemed almost…momentarily pleased when Vance had approached him. Now he seemed as if the boy had pissed him off. Delilah was attentive enough to catch the change in his demeanor then. Her curiosity was in full swing but she merely shrugged in response to his words. “Everyone hates him,” she thought with a sigh. She had enough reason to be part of that club, given how lowly he looked upon Cervus students and above all, halfbloods. Yet she didn’t. Maybe I believe too much in the good in people.”

"I have the book back in my quarters. I could... meet you in the library after classes today, if that works for you?" he asked. She nodded again. “That’s perfect. I don’t have anything planned and the clubs won’t be starting up for a week or so. That and I have some things to return that I was allowed to take home for the summer,” she concluded.

Delilah’s attention was whisked away quickly as Vance Abernathy entered the room as Professor Ryther moved to close the door. He took a seat close to them but between a pair of dour looking girls from her own house. Delilah knew them both enough to feel disheartened. No wonder he thinks so little of us. The girls were shy creatures and tight lipped at that. She knew they weren’t the best at magic either, nor did they care to excel.

As Professor Ryther took them through the basics of conjuring, Delilah tuned into the lecture. She wrote a short paragraph in her notebook, reminding herself of the essentials. When they were tasked with conjuring a small stained glass object – with the goal of being appealing and of having an assortment of colors present – Delilah sat back in her seat to watch momentarily. As usual Bliss was first, twirling her wand in a knowing manner. Vance followed suit, as did Sam. Victor was quick as well. Delilah was in no rush. No sooner had Vance conjured his creation than the girl next to him sent an explosion of glass across the table. Another shattering sound came from the front and soon after Delilah conjured with ease a red, black and gold glass violin. The object was not typical to her but she’d made enough flowers and hearts for a lifetime. It was a thank-you gift to Lloyd and as class ended she was quick to stow it safely in her bag. Victor was quick to depart without a word, as was Sam. As Delilah slowly collected her things she watched as the room emptied out. Professor Ryther gave her a low smile as Delilah was last to depart, stepping into the halls and off to the remainder of her morning classes.

Lunch came upon her quicker than she would have liked. Delilah found herself engrossed in the material. Her lessons had always proved to be a good distraction. Sam slipped from her mind entirely. She found herself making her way to the Great Hall, her stomach growling from how little breakfast she’d managed to eat. As she turned the corner she paused briefly in her step as right before her was Vance (who else as of late?) and another of the Aretiem boys, one she recognized as often hanging around Abernathy. Delilah wasn’t intent on listening, she was merely surprised to have come so close to him without really noticing. Her hesitation in walking only spelt trouble however as the person behind her wasn’t paying much attention and walked right into her.

"Was there anything else?” she heard Vance say before her body unceremoniously lurched forward. Her foot slammed into the stone floor loudly but it wasn’t enough to stop her from being hurled forward by the person behind her. Their hands gripped her shoulders and as they tried to prevent themselves from falling by bracing themselves on her, Delilah was crudely pushed to the floor. She squealed, she couldn’t help it. She threw her hands out to catch herself but as her palms connected with the floor, her own weight and that of the person on top of her bore down on her wrists. A sickening crunch emanated from her right hand and the blond couldn’t help but inhale sharply. She didn’t scream, but her eyes watered immediately as pain shot through her fingers and up the length of her arm.

As she slammed into the floor, her face was forced to the concrete as well. The boy who was on top of her was muttering fierce apologies. “I didn’t see you, I’m s-so-sorry,” he was stammering. “Fuck,” Delilah cursed, her eyes narrow as she fought her desire to cry. As he rolled off her, the seventh year Cervus recognized the boy as a sixth year Vulpes, tall and well built. She recognized him from their Quodpot team and without a doubt he weighed over two hundred pounds. "No wonder I was pushed to the ground," she thought angrily. Delilah tossed her shoulders back and forced herself up off the floor, cradling her right hand towards her chest. A slew of other students were pausing and stopping to see what the chaos was in the midst of the hall. “Are you okay?” a first year girl asked innocently. “That was quite the fall,” another replied. Delilah felt herself paling as she leaned up against the wall, her eyes again downcast as she avoided the stares and pitying glances. She felt humiliated, especially with Vance there. Well, she didn’t know if he was staring or still standing there. She didn’t expect him to but if he was still there it made things worse.

“Do you need to go to the hospital wing?” someone asked. She shook her head, shakily withdrawing her wand from her bag with her left hand and gripping it tightly. Her knuckles were white as she held the ivory handle of her wand close to her chest, extending her fractured wrist out slightly but wincing from the wild burning pain emanating from her hand. She could barely move her fingers, she noticed. This was far from the first time she’d broken a bone, but it was still a shock to her. She hadn't anticipated another spill so soon.

“Brackium Emendo,” she thought forcefully, repeating the spell to herself twice in thought as she began circling her wand around her wrist. She concluded with a slight flourish before dropping the point which glowed white and blue into the joint. She hissed in pain as her arm seemed to shift. The bones cracked loudly, enough for the first year girl who’d displayed concern to gasp. Delilah clenched her teeth shut, focusing her attention on her wrist wholly. As the pain subsided and the glow from her wand became subdued the blond slowly flexed her fingers. It had worked, most fortunately. “Ferula,” she continued, watching as her wand conjured a slew of white bandages and a splint base for her wrist, wrapping the recovering injury quickly before she covered it with her sleeve.

With that handled, Delilah stowed her wand in her pocket, bowing to collect a handful of books that she’d dropped during the fall. The Vulpes scratched his head and looked at her speechlessly. As she stood, she looked up at the boy with a fierce stare. “Best watch where you walk next time,” she said sharply before quickly walking towards the Great Hall with her chin tucked and her hands clutching her books tightly.

Vin chuckled and chattered with Lyle as he grabbed various foods from the table. Helping himself to some chicken, then some turkey, he made sure to add a little veggies to his plate as well. He wasn't a huge fan of fruit, but he managed to talk himself into a couple strawberries to round out his meal. Proud of himself, he began his feast as Lloyd appeared. She sat next to him, but farther away than normal. Vin smiled cheekily as he shook his head, supposedly to get his hair out of his eyes, but mostly to rain droplets of water on Lloyd. He turned to wink at Lyle in camaraderie but chuckled instead at the beast of a 'wich his best bud had made. He was still a little giddy from the high of being attacked by a billion water balloons with seeming minds of their own. Still chuckling, he turned back to Lloyd at her "Heya guys!"

"Heys." Vin replied on the end of his chuckle as he returned to his food. The fuel he put in spelled out more hours with the salt water on his skin and the sand between his toes later. With that calming thought in mind, he added mashed potatoes to his plate, then realized he was slightly jealous of Lyle's sandwich-creation skills and poured gravy over everything, including the strawberries.

"Hey, Vin? If you aren't busy, do you mind if I steal you for something? Lyle, you can come too- er... if you want to, y'know. I'm more convinced that you'll be busy though." Melvin's interest was piqued as the girl he'd shared a moment with that morning was already asking for one on one time. He knew she didn't mean to be rude, which was why she'd included Lyle, but it seemed to be a bit of an after thought. He decided to wait and see how his friend reacted before making his own decision, not in the market to leave a bro behind in the battlefield because of a woman. He turned to his friend and watched with concern as Lyle seemed to strain with concentration over his manwich, then stood quickly and looked around as though he'd lost his mom in a supermarket. ”You two go on ahead,” Lyle commanded and was gone before Vin could really comprehend what had just happened. He was used to this sort of behavior though, so, shrugging, he turned back to his meal and Lloyd.

"Awright," he said before taking a bite of gravy-covered strawberry and finding he actually quite liked the pairing. "What's the 'something' chickadee?" He offered her another of his now-gray strawberries indifferently. It was probably the absolute weirdest combination he'd ever come up with in food, but that didn't bother him, he'd liked it, so he'd share it. If he could talk Myra into eating a Lays potato chip dipped in mustard and spaghetti mixed with mashed potatoes, then he could get Lloyd to eat this strawberry. Or not. He really didn't care. Half the joy of getting his twin to eat the weird food concoctions he made was the fight, Lloyd was almost as go-with-the-flow as he was, so he assumed their wouldn't be much of a fight.



Myra's day had been long already, but quite fun. After finding another spell she excelled at and having helped quietly tutor some of her classmates through the water balloon drills, she'd successfully caused one of her brother's pranks to backfire on him and made it to lunch with enough time to eat quickly and catch up with her best female friend before doing some quick studying for her next class. "Let them have this one. They won't expect a thing." She smiled playfully at Summer, then whispered conspiratorially, "Bet they don't know this spell!" and pulling out her wand she waved it stating confidently, "Exaresco." In an instant both girl's clothes were completely dry and smelling lightly of lavender. "It's going to be tough for them to have to go through the next few classes sopping wet!" She giggled in a playfully malicious way. She followed as Summer picked a spot slightly farther away from the rest of the Cervus table and decided to follow and sit with her. It wasn't as though the Vulpes table would miss her. She could tell something was bother Summer, but not what. Hadn't she been about to tell Myra something just before the failed attack?

"So now that we know who our enemies are... What will be our next attack, Captain?" Summer laughed and the happiness in the sound caused Myra to smile a toothy grin. Her chest tightened as she realized just how much she'd missed her friend over the holiday and, instead of answering her question, pulled Summer into a tight hug, "Oh! I missed you!" She held her there for a moment, just enjoying the hug then pulled back, and placed her hands on Summer's shoulders. "We'll plan our next attack when the time is right! I'm thinking shoe-laces might be involved." She winked then turned toward the table to pile her plate full of various fruits and veggies, a small baguette, 2 chicken legs and handful of french fries. Her mind was on fire, tracing backward through the recent happenings to try and figure out what it was her best friend had been trying to tell her. Summer wasn't really one to waste her words, however talkative the girl may be, so Myra was determined to be there for her if she needed. Suddenly her brain clicked everything into place as she remembered Summer's exact words just before the war cry.

"You were in the library!" Myra looked up from her chicken and pointed at Summer, her eyes narrowing in mock accusation, "With someone!" Then, without warning, her mind shot to the morning's run-in with Vance and a blush lit up her cheeks. Her brow furrowed, what was up with that? He'd nearly avada'd her for all she knew, the look was in his eye. But then it had... gone. He'd... softened, or something. And that look in his eye that usually made her want to reach out and tell him everything would be okay had been there for a split second. Biting her lip, she gave her head a tiny shake, Not my place. Besides, he's terrifying! She had to keep reminding herself, she had to. Turning back to Summer, she popped a grape in her mouth, "Soooo? Spill!" She demanded in the way that girls do, getting back in touch with herself and her friend and the life she was used to, while leaving the morning's confusing moments behind.