Title: Beware - Proximity to Flint May Result in Fire
Rating: PG-13, for some language
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all affiliated with Harry Potter and the like. I own the story and...well, thats it.
Comments/Feedback/ETC: ny_city_chica@hotmail.com
Lesson One - Muggle Interaction in Social Situations
"Welcome to Muggle Studies. I'm sure you'll find this class [i]very[/i] interesting..." Professor Winters spoke animatedly, obviously very enthusiastic about her subject.
Katie Bell blew a stream of air from her mouth upwards to coax a lost piece of hair to rejoin the rest of her shellacked tendrils. Looking around, she saw only third years, simply giddy over the fact that they could choose their own classes. Why they wanted to go ahead and take Muggle Studies was beyond her, however. When she'd found out that the Study of Ancient Runes class she'd signed up for conflicted with Defense Against the Dark Arts, she'd been understandably upset. Then, when told she needed another course in order to graduate, and Muggle Studies was the only one that fit into her her schedule, she'd nearly cried. "Oh well," she said to herself, trying very hard to look on the bright side. Being a "half 'n' 'alf", as those who were half Muggle, half witch were affectionately known, she could tune out the entire year and still pass the exams. Maybe that wouldn't be too bad after all...
On the other side of the room, however, blocked from her peripheral vision by an exceptionally tall third year, was another seventh year by the name of Marcus Flint. With the possibility of getting left back (again) looming in the air beside him at the time of scheduling, he'd opted to take the easiest courses available, Muggle Studies included. Sighing and rolling his eyes emphatically, a bit like a primadonna would, his eyes blurred as they slipped out of focus and relaxed. However, at the sound of rustling papers and the mention of the word 'quiz', his ears perked up and he grimaced.
"Just a preliminary quiz to judge how much you already know about those mysterious Muggles," Professor Winters said happily. A little too happily.
"Geez, she needs to decrease her daily sugar intake, doesn't she?" Flint thought to himself as he received his examination.
The first question stated:
Did you know Muggles can't just make their leftover food dissappear?????? (There were enough question marks to fill up an entire line of parchment, and Flint continued his internal monologue with "Even her tests are perky".) Instead, they dispose of the remnants in containers called...
A) Microwaves
B) Refrigerators
C) Garbage Cans
D) Cedar Closets
Marcus, puzzled by the question, absentmindedly circled choice B.
"You have to be kidding me," Katie sighed. She filled in all the answers in under two minutes. She'd especially like question seven:
Which of these are sports that Muggles play? (circle all that apply)
A) Quidditch
B) Sassafras
C) Dishwalla
D) Football
Who came up with these choices? If this was what Muggle Studies was going to be like for the entire year, she might have to slit her wrists.
After another ten minutes, Professor Winters collected the quizzes, and even while she was doing so, some students were furiously circling choices. "There were only fifteen stupid questions!" Katie felt like screaming. "Process of elimination!" She wasn't always like this, but stupidity and thick-headedness were not things that she tolerated. And, clearly, both were present in this classroom. Even the teacher was a dunce. Katie was willing to bet a few silver sickles that Professor Winters had pawned off a watch or something to get another teacher to write the test for her. Watching said teacher conjure up a mirror to check her complexion before proceeding only cemented this fact into very hard stone.
"Now that we're done with that," Professor Winters over inflected the final word so much that a bit of spittle escaped from her mouth on the last 'tuh' sound. "We can move on to our very first lesson: Muggle Interaction in Social Situations! To familiarize ourselves with the methods in which Muggles find new friends and companions, I'm going to need all of you to pack up your books and leave the room momentarily while I rearrange the furniture."
As they exited the class, Katie saw Marcus for the first time. "Oy, now I really know I'm in the presence of idiots," she said quietly. She proceeded to groan as she saw him swagger over, looking like he'd had one too many butterbeers. But, this is Marcus Flint she was talking about, and knew that swagger was simply part of his "I think I'm hot stuff" delusion.
"Well, well, well, Miss Katie Bell," he chuckled, easily amused by his weak rhyme. "Didn't expect to see you in this class. You mixed bloods don't need to sit here and learn about these great non-magical bastards and their refrigorators."
"Refrigerators, Marcus, and I didn't expect to be in this class," she replied, insisting on calling him Marcus even though he hated it so. "You know, there has got to be some sort of spell for those chompers of yours. Perhaps you should spend some time looking one up. It would certainly improve that face. From a zero to at least a point-five in my book, for sure."
"Fuck off, Bell," he answered.
"Wasn't the one who started the conversation, Marcus," she stressed the last word, and was pleased to see his lip curl in complete and utter enmity.
A voice wafted from inside the class, announcing to the class to proceed back into the room.
"I trust you're all smart enough to find an alternate seat now that the tables have been moved around. I know I've got a smart bunch of witches and wizards in here!" Professor Winters gushed.
"She needs to be shot," Flint said, and Katie found herself laughing a bit. She had the same sentiments, and almost replied with "I'll hold her down, you go for the gun," but decided against it. Over her dead body would she have casual, civil conversation with the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.
Moving to sit in the back row, all the way to the left side, Katie left Marcus alone near the front of the room. When she got to her seat, all the way in the back on the left side, she found him sitting next to her.
"What'd you do, Marcus, follow me around like a lapdog?" Katie asked, impatiently. She normally wasn't so short tempered, but if there was one thing she positively hated it was stupidity. And, well, since Marcus and stupidity pretty much went hand in hand...
"I needed a seat, and this is a seat. Not everything is about you, Bell, I hope you know that," he commented snidely, and they both were quiet as Professor Winters resumed her class.
"Now, I'd like all you boys out there to take one shoe off," she said, as if asked half her class to remove their footwear was a completely normal thing to request. However, she was a pretty teacher, and most of the boys in her class seemed to have no problem obeying the order. Flint, however, needed an explanation before he went and exposed his hole-filled sock.
"What's the big idea?" he asked, standing up so that she could clearly see who was talking to her. Never overestimate a teacher's ability to connect sound to body, he'd learned over the years.
"What do you mean, Mr...." she didn't finish, not knowing everyones name yet.
"Mr. Flint. And what I mean is, how come I have to take off my shoe in order to be like a Muggle? Is this what they do for kicks on a Friday night? Switch shoes? How exciting--"
"Mr. Flint, I'd like you to take a seat, I never said we were going to be like Muggles, I said we were going to learn about them. And yes, one way in which Muggles get to know each other involves taking off a shoe. It's a method they use in kindergarten to break the ice..." she trailed off, and Katie wondered if she ever learned how to finish sentences that didn't end in question marks or exclamation points.
"And kindergarten would be..." he left it at that, genuinely curious.
"A sort of preschool for Muggles. I believe they're about, seven, eight years old--"
"It's five, Professor," Katie interrupted, rolling her eyes. What kind of Muggle Studies teacher is this, not knowing about kindergarten? She was going to have to ask someone who'd taken it last year how the old professor was. Too bad he had to go and resign. It was like a revolving door, this school, she thought to herself. Teachers coming, teachers leaving, teachers being left to die by masters that inhabited their turbans, every year there was at least one new one.
"Oh, right, five, of course! I wasn't thinking clearly, thank you," Professor Winters responded, not even attempting Katie's name. "Now, then, if you've all taken off your shoes? Excellent! Please bring them up to the front of the class, and put them in a large pile where I've left a space. There you go! Wonderful! Now, I'm going to enclose them all in spellproof bags, so that the ladies here don't know which shoe they've picked. Aha! See? Ok, girls, go ahead and pick a bag. Don't be shy!"
Katie went up to the front of the room, and picked the first bag she came in contact with. She knew what was coming next, and she hoped she wasn't stuck with--
"Ok, now lets open the bags!" Professor Winters performed a charm on the parcels, and the bags surrounding them disappeared. And, as she had been dreading, she was left holding the shoe of good ol' Marcus Flint. "Now, find the man whose shoe you're holding, and have a nice little chat! In five minutes we move on to the next part, so you better get a move on! Spit spot!"
Katie unwillingly approached Marcus, who was standing near the door, hoping to run when no one was looking. "Hello, Marcus," she grumbled, plopping down at the nearest chair.
"Gimme my damn shoe back," was his response.
"Nah, I think I'll hold on to it for a few minutes," she said. She knew he couldn't get it back without magic. Part of Muggle Studies was the 'no-wand' rule. "No spells in class, thats not what Muggles do," Professor Winters had said at the beginning of class. Didn't take a dummy to figure that one out.
Marcus groaned loudly, and they sat in silence for a minute or so. "So, what're we supposed to be talking about?"
"I suppose we should be 'getting to know each other'. However, I think I speak for the both of us when I say that we know enough about one another already, no need for additional torture," Katie snapped, wanting very badly to just give his head a very vigorous shake.
"Amen to that," he motioned as if he was raising a wine glass, and gulped the invisible thing down in no time flat.
"You know, sometimes you can be a real bastard," she said, out of nowhere for no real reason other than to nudge him a bit.
"And you mean to tell me that Wood isn't?"
She looked at him, puzzled, and he continued, "Come on, you're so damn obvious."
"I must be, if you can tell--"
"Stop calling me a dumbass, wouldja?"
"If you would just stop being one, I might stop calling you one--"
"Times up! There ya go, give the good boys their shoes back, come on. Now, we're going to play a little card game! I've bought two decks of Muggle Cards (quite strange really, the kings and queens stay right where they are), and taken the time to pull out pairs. I'm going to go around the room, and the boys will pick from one deck, the girls from the other. Everyone clear?" Professor Winters was back in action, pulling two decks of cards out of her desk. Katie could see the word 'Tricycle' stamped on the backsides of the deck. Tricycle? What kind of Bicycle knockoffs did she buy? She must have gotten them real cheap.
The decks of cards, and the teacher holding on to them, circled the room, and everyone picked their cards. Marcus picked from the bottom of the blue pile (blue for boys, red for girls. How quaint.), and revealed the ace of spades.
"Wow, the big kahuna, you must feel special?" Katie said, picking a card from the red deck. When she flipped it over, much to her dismay, she saw the familiar ace of spades.
"You've got to be kidding me," Marcus muttered.
When the remainder of the class had picked their cards, Professor Winters resumed speaking. "Now, get with your partners, and this time, you'll find something you have in common, and discuss. Ready, GO!"
"Is this seriously what Muggles do?" Flint asked. "Sit around in groups of two and talk like this?"
"No, stupid," Katie answered the question as if the answer was as obvious as anything. "She doesn't know a thing about Muggles, can't you tell?"
"Well, being a Pureblood, I wouldn't, would I?" he responded, and he puffed his chest out a bit at the word Pureblood, at it again with the "hot stuff".
"Well, something we have in common...Quidditch we have in common," she said, only as an attempt to keep herself from falling asleep on the desk. Even the hard, dark wood looked inviting at this point.
"Hmmph. Liking Quidditch we having in common. Talent, on the other hand, we do not," he said snidely.
"Damn, I wish someone else had been here to hear you say you were a horrible Quidditch player. Remember, the first step is admitting your problem." Katie saw the angry look on his face and said, "Come on, you asked for that one on a silver platter filled with chocolate covered cherries. You did, admit at least that much."
"Whatever," he mumbled, and they fell into silence. Seeing no other way to occupy himself, Marcus began tapping his fingers, slowly, one at a time, on the desk.
Katie found herself staring at the tapping fingers. She was strangely mesmerized by the way the bones and ligaments that connected his finger and hand to his wrist seemed to pop out of his skin as his fingers elevated off the wood. Following her gaze, he broke the silence. "What're you staring at? Find my fingers sexy, do you?"
"You think a bit to highly of yourself, Marcus. Might get you into trouble--"
"Don't go and tell me my head is too big, Bell," he said, sizing her up. "You're damn lucky yours fits into this castle."
"I was simply stating the obvious, and giving you a bit of friendly advice, don't go clawing at me as if I've insulted you," she fired back.
"Insulted me? You think you've insulted me, have you? There you go again, thinking you're a great deal smarter and witty than you really are. That kind of attitude--"
"What if I told you that you were the ugliest dumbass I'd ever seen in my life?"
"You're hardly an amateur, Bell. You need to work on the delivery. I'm not going to get your hopes up by saying you've got potential either, Bell. Wouldn't want to put you on a higher pedestal than you're on already."
"Pedestal? That's a big word for you, isn't it? Learn that from one of the third years here, Marcus?"
"You wanna know something? You really want to know what I think of you, Bell? I think you're--"
"Ok, it looks like we've run out of time for today's class. Seems I let this part of the lesson run a bit longer than the five minutes I allotted. I really need an hourglass in here," Professor Winters mused, conjuring one up in thin air.
"Like hell more than five minutes passed," Katie sniggered, looking at her watch. Fifteen fucking minutes was more like it.
"Well, until next time, you are dismissed," the professor stated, and to Katie, these were the best combination of words she'd heard all day.
"You know what, Bell?" Marcus spoke up as they returned to get their books from the very top left hand corner of the room.
"What, Marcus," she said, wondering why he bothered to start a conversation with her now that he could leave.
"I know something we have in common, and I thought it up all by myself, aren't you proud?" he asked.
"I won't be until I hear what his amazing revelation is," she responded, and then added, "You do know what revelation means, don't you? I mean, its more than three syllables..."
"I know what revelation means, thankyouverymuch," he said, eyes flashing like two of those Muggle cameras with the bright blinky things attached to them.
"Well, one can never be too careful, can they?"
"You wanna know what we have in common?" he tried again, and continued instantly, not wishing to be interrupted with another one of her snide comments. "Mutual hatred, am I right?"
"Marcus, I think that is the most intellegent think that came out of your head all day. No shit we hate each other. It's practically written on our foreheads. However, I'm glad that you've discovered this for yourself. Too bad its seven years behind the curve. Isn't it always like that with you? You hear a joke, and the whole crowd laughs, and then, just when you think it's time to move on, one, single, solitary laugh erupts. And the group thinks 'Oh, it's just Marcus. Good for him, it only took five minutes this time. Yesterday, we told the same joke, and it took twenty. He's improving'. Isn't that always how it is?" Katie replied, feeling particularly venomous today.
Expecting a smooth snapback, she was surprised when she heard his reply.
"Yeah, pretty much," he said, just to see her reaction. She looked at him with a wide-eyed stare, and he turned and left, knowing he'd gotten the last laugh for the day. Just like he always does.
.::.
Rating: PG-13, for some language
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns all affiliated with Harry Potter and the like. I own the story and...well, thats it.
Comments/Feedback/ETC: ny_city_chica@hotmail.com
Lesson One - Muggle Interaction in Social Situations
"Welcome to Muggle Studies. I'm sure you'll find this class [i]very[/i] interesting..." Professor Winters spoke animatedly, obviously very enthusiastic about her subject.
Katie Bell blew a stream of air from her mouth upwards to coax a lost piece of hair to rejoin the rest of her shellacked tendrils. Looking around, she saw only third years, simply giddy over the fact that they could choose their own classes. Why they wanted to go ahead and take Muggle Studies was beyond her, however. When she'd found out that the Study of Ancient Runes class she'd signed up for conflicted with Defense Against the Dark Arts, she'd been understandably upset. Then, when told she needed another course in order to graduate, and Muggle Studies was the only one that fit into her her schedule, she'd nearly cried. "Oh well," she said to herself, trying very hard to look on the bright side. Being a "half 'n' 'alf", as those who were half Muggle, half witch were affectionately known, she could tune out the entire year and still pass the exams. Maybe that wouldn't be too bad after all...
On the other side of the room, however, blocked from her peripheral vision by an exceptionally tall third year, was another seventh year by the name of Marcus Flint. With the possibility of getting left back (again) looming in the air beside him at the time of scheduling, he'd opted to take the easiest courses available, Muggle Studies included. Sighing and rolling his eyes emphatically, a bit like a primadonna would, his eyes blurred as they slipped out of focus and relaxed. However, at the sound of rustling papers and the mention of the word 'quiz', his ears perked up and he grimaced.
"Just a preliminary quiz to judge how much you already know about those mysterious Muggles," Professor Winters said happily. A little too happily.
"Geez, she needs to decrease her daily sugar intake, doesn't she?" Flint thought to himself as he received his examination.
The first question stated:
Did you know Muggles can't just make their leftover food dissappear?????? (There were enough question marks to fill up an entire line of parchment, and Flint continued his internal monologue with "Even her tests are perky".) Instead, they dispose of the remnants in containers called...
A) Microwaves
B) Refrigerators
C) Garbage Cans
D) Cedar Closets
Marcus, puzzled by the question, absentmindedly circled choice B.
"You have to be kidding me," Katie sighed. She filled in all the answers in under two minutes. She'd especially like question seven:
Which of these are sports that Muggles play? (circle all that apply)
A) Quidditch
B) Sassafras
C) Dishwalla
D) Football
Who came up with these choices? If this was what Muggle Studies was going to be like for the entire year, she might have to slit her wrists.
After another ten minutes, Professor Winters collected the quizzes, and even while she was doing so, some students were furiously circling choices. "There were only fifteen stupid questions!" Katie felt like screaming. "Process of elimination!" She wasn't always like this, but stupidity and thick-headedness were not things that she tolerated. And, clearly, both were present in this classroom. Even the teacher was a dunce. Katie was willing to bet a few silver sickles that Professor Winters had pawned off a watch or something to get another teacher to write the test for her. Watching said teacher conjure up a mirror to check her complexion before proceeding only cemented this fact into very hard stone.
"Now that we're done with that," Professor Winters over inflected the final word so much that a bit of spittle escaped from her mouth on the last 'tuh' sound. "We can move on to our very first lesson: Muggle Interaction in Social Situations! To familiarize ourselves with the methods in which Muggles find new friends and companions, I'm going to need all of you to pack up your books and leave the room momentarily while I rearrange the furniture."
As they exited the class, Katie saw Marcus for the first time. "Oy, now I really know I'm in the presence of idiots," she said quietly. She proceeded to groan as she saw him swagger over, looking like he'd had one too many butterbeers. But, this is Marcus Flint she was talking about, and knew that swagger was simply part of his "I think I'm hot stuff" delusion.
"Well, well, well, Miss Katie Bell," he chuckled, easily amused by his weak rhyme. "Didn't expect to see you in this class. You mixed bloods don't need to sit here and learn about these great non-magical bastards and their refrigorators."
"Refrigerators, Marcus, and I didn't expect to be in this class," she replied, insisting on calling him Marcus even though he hated it so. "You know, there has got to be some sort of spell for those chompers of yours. Perhaps you should spend some time looking one up. It would certainly improve that face. From a zero to at least a point-five in my book, for sure."
"Fuck off, Bell," he answered.
"Wasn't the one who started the conversation, Marcus," she stressed the last word, and was pleased to see his lip curl in complete and utter enmity.
A voice wafted from inside the class, announcing to the class to proceed back into the room.
"I trust you're all smart enough to find an alternate seat now that the tables have been moved around. I know I've got a smart bunch of witches and wizards in here!" Professor Winters gushed.
"She needs to be shot," Flint said, and Katie found herself laughing a bit. She had the same sentiments, and almost replied with "I'll hold her down, you go for the gun," but decided against it. Over her dead body would she have casual, civil conversation with the captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team.
Moving to sit in the back row, all the way to the left side, Katie left Marcus alone near the front of the room. When she got to her seat, all the way in the back on the left side, she found him sitting next to her.
"What'd you do, Marcus, follow me around like a lapdog?" Katie asked, impatiently. She normally wasn't so short tempered, but if there was one thing she positively hated it was stupidity. And, well, since Marcus and stupidity pretty much went hand in hand...
"I needed a seat, and this is a seat. Not everything is about you, Bell, I hope you know that," he commented snidely, and they both were quiet as Professor Winters resumed her class.
"Now, I'd like all you boys out there to take one shoe off," she said, as if asked half her class to remove their footwear was a completely normal thing to request. However, she was a pretty teacher, and most of the boys in her class seemed to have no problem obeying the order. Flint, however, needed an explanation before he went and exposed his hole-filled sock.
"What's the big idea?" he asked, standing up so that she could clearly see who was talking to her. Never overestimate a teacher's ability to connect sound to body, he'd learned over the years.
"What do you mean, Mr...." she didn't finish, not knowing everyones name yet.
"Mr. Flint. And what I mean is, how come I have to take off my shoe in order to be like a Muggle? Is this what they do for kicks on a Friday night? Switch shoes? How exciting--"
"Mr. Flint, I'd like you to take a seat, I never said we were going to be like Muggles, I said we were going to learn about them. And yes, one way in which Muggles get to know each other involves taking off a shoe. It's a method they use in kindergarten to break the ice..." she trailed off, and Katie wondered if she ever learned how to finish sentences that didn't end in question marks or exclamation points.
"And kindergarten would be..." he left it at that, genuinely curious.
"A sort of preschool for Muggles. I believe they're about, seven, eight years old--"
"It's five, Professor," Katie interrupted, rolling her eyes. What kind of Muggle Studies teacher is this, not knowing about kindergarten? She was going to have to ask someone who'd taken it last year how the old professor was. Too bad he had to go and resign. It was like a revolving door, this school, she thought to herself. Teachers coming, teachers leaving, teachers being left to die by masters that inhabited their turbans, every year there was at least one new one.
"Oh, right, five, of course! I wasn't thinking clearly, thank you," Professor Winters responded, not even attempting Katie's name. "Now, then, if you've all taken off your shoes? Excellent! Please bring them up to the front of the class, and put them in a large pile where I've left a space. There you go! Wonderful! Now, I'm going to enclose them all in spellproof bags, so that the ladies here don't know which shoe they've picked. Aha! See? Ok, girls, go ahead and pick a bag. Don't be shy!"
Katie went up to the front of the room, and picked the first bag she came in contact with. She knew what was coming next, and she hoped she wasn't stuck with--
"Ok, now lets open the bags!" Professor Winters performed a charm on the parcels, and the bags surrounding them disappeared. And, as she had been dreading, she was left holding the shoe of good ol' Marcus Flint. "Now, find the man whose shoe you're holding, and have a nice little chat! In five minutes we move on to the next part, so you better get a move on! Spit spot!"
Katie unwillingly approached Marcus, who was standing near the door, hoping to run when no one was looking. "Hello, Marcus," she grumbled, plopping down at the nearest chair.
"Gimme my damn shoe back," was his response.
"Nah, I think I'll hold on to it for a few minutes," she said. She knew he couldn't get it back without magic. Part of Muggle Studies was the 'no-wand' rule. "No spells in class, thats not what Muggles do," Professor Winters had said at the beginning of class. Didn't take a dummy to figure that one out.
Marcus groaned loudly, and they sat in silence for a minute or so. "So, what're we supposed to be talking about?"
"I suppose we should be 'getting to know each other'. However, I think I speak for the both of us when I say that we know enough about one another already, no need for additional torture," Katie snapped, wanting very badly to just give his head a very vigorous shake.
"Amen to that," he motioned as if he was raising a wine glass, and gulped the invisible thing down in no time flat.
"You know, sometimes you can be a real bastard," she said, out of nowhere for no real reason other than to nudge him a bit.
"And you mean to tell me that Wood isn't?"
She looked at him, puzzled, and he continued, "Come on, you're so damn obvious."
"I must be, if you can tell--"
"Stop calling me a dumbass, wouldja?"
"If you would just stop being one, I might stop calling you one--"
"Times up! There ya go, give the good boys their shoes back, come on. Now, we're going to play a little card game! I've bought two decks of Muggle Cards (quite strange really, the kings and queens stay right where they are), and taken the time to pull out pairs. I'm going to go around the room, and the boys will pick from one deck, the girls from the other. Everyone clear?" Professor Winters was back in action, pulling two decks of cards out of her desk. Katie could see the word 'Tricycle' stamped on the backsides of the deck. Tricycle? What kind of Bicycle knockoffs did she buy? She must have gotten them real cheap.
The decks of cards, and the teacher holding on to them, circled the room, and everyone picked their cards. Marcus picked from the bottom of the blue pile (blue for boys, red for girls. How quaint.), and revealed the ace of spades.
"Wow, the big kahuna, you must feel special?" Katie said, picking a card from the red deck. When she flipped it over, much to her dismay, she saw the familiar ace of spades.
"You've got to be kidding me," Marcus muttered.
When the remainder of the class had picked their cards, Professor Winters resumed speaking. "Now, get with your partners, and this time, you'll find something you have in common, and discuss. Ready, GO!"
"Is this seriously what Muggles do?" Flint asked. "Sit around in groups of two and talk like this?"
"No, stupid," Katie answered the question as if the answer was as obvious as anything. "She doesn't know a thing about Muggles, can't you tell?"
"Well, being a Pureblood, I wouldn't, would I?" he responded, and he puffed his chest out a bit at the word Pureblood, at it again with the "hot stuff".
"Well, something we have in common...Quidditch we have in common," she said, only as an attempt to keep herself from falling asleep on the desk. Even the hard, dark wood looked inviting at this point.
"Hmmph. Liking Quidditch we having in common. Talent, on the other hand, we do not," he said snidely.
"Damn, I wish someone else had been here to hear you say you were a horrible Quidditch player. Remember, the first step is admitting your problem." Katie saw the angry look on his face and said, "Come on, you asked for that one on a silver platter filled with chocolate covered cherries. You did, admit at least that much."
"Whatever," he mumbled, and they fell into silence. Seeing no other way to occupy himself, Marcus began tapping his fingers, slowly, one at a time, on the desk.
Katie found herself staring at the tapping fingers. She was strangely mesmerized by the way the bones and ligaments that connected his finger and hand to his wrist seemed to pop out of his skin as his fingers elevated off the wood. Following her gaze, he broke the silence. "What're you staring at? Find my fingers sexy, do you?"
"You think a bit to highly of yourself, Marcus. Might get you into trouble--"
"Don't go and tell me my head is too big, Bell," he said, sizing her up. "You're damn lucky yours fits into this castle."
"I was simply stating the obvious, and giving you a bit of friendly advice, don't go clawing at me as if I've insulted you," she fired back.
"Insulted me? You think you've insulted me, have you? There you go again, thinking you're a great deal smarter and witty than you really are. That kind of attitude--"
"What if I told you that you were the ugliest dumbass I'd ever seen in my life?"
"You're hardly an amateur, Bell. You need to work on the delivery. I'm not going to get your hopes up by saying you've got potential either, Bell. Wouldn't want to put you on a higher pedestal than you're on already."
"Pedestal? That's a big word for you, isn't it? Learn that from one of the third years here, Marcus?"
"You wanna know something? You really want to know what I think of you, Bell? I think you're--"
"Ok, it looks like we've run out of time for today's class. Seems I let this part of the lesson run a bit longer than the five minutes I allotted. I really need an hourglass in here," Professor Winters mused, conjuring one up in thin air.
"Like hell more than five minutes passed," Katie sniggered, looking at her watch. Fifteen fucking minutes was more like it.
"Well, until next time, you are dismissed," the professor stated, and to Katie, these were the best combination of words she'd heard all day.
"You know what, Bell?" Marcus spoke up as they returned to get their books from the very top left hand corner of the room.
"What, Marcus," she said, wondering why he bothered to start a conversation with her now that he could leave.
"I know something we have in common, and I thought it up all by myself, aren't you proud?" he asked.
"I won't be until I hear what his amazing revelation is," she responded, and then added, "You do know what revelation means, don't you? I mean, its more than three syllables..."
"I know what revelation means, thankyouverymuch," he said, eyes flashing like two of those Muggle cameras with the bright blinky things attached to them.
"Well, one can never be too careful, can they?"
"You wanna know what we have in common?" he tried again, and continued instantly, not wishing to be interrupted with another one of her snide comments. "Mutual hatred, am I right?"
"Marcus, I think that is the most intellegent think that came out of your head all day. No shit we hate each other. It's practically written on our foreheads. However, I'm glad that you've discovered this for yourself. Too bad its seven years behind the curve. Isn't it always like that with you? You hear a joke, and the whole crowd laughs, and then, just when you think it's time to move on, one, single, solitary laugh erupts. And the group thinks 'Oh, it's just Marcus. Good for him, it only took five minutes this time. Yesterday, we told the same joke, and it took twenty. He's improving'. Isn't that always how it is?" Katie replied, feeling particularly venomous today.
Expecting a smooth snapback, she was surprised when she heard his reply.
"Yeah, pretty much," he said, just to see her reaction. She looked at him with a wide-eyed stare, and he turned and left, knowing he'd gotten the last laugh for the day. Just like he always does.
.::.