Chapter Three: Of Lovely Detentions and Meetings

"To argue with a person who has renounced the use of reason is like administering medicine to the dead."

- Thomas Paine

September 5

Random Word of the Day: loathe

I've had an extremely normal day. That's an oxymoron, you know.

Anyways… I'm serving my detentions today. I managed to get three today each one right after the other. First one is from Crawford, our darling Potions Mistress and Head of Slytherin House, second is from McGonagall for a 'cheek' insert eye roll here, and the last from… guess who? Crawford once again! I think the lady just simply can't get enough of me! Apparently, I had been 'reported to have been scheming with Black and Lupin'. I can't exactly deny it, but I don't know how that's breaking a school rule… She thinks I'm helping them with a prank, though. If she does…

HOW DAFT CAN YOU GET?

I'd never help Black and Lupin with a prank, because most of them are aimed towards my house, therefore including myself into the lovely picture. So anyways, I have four hours to survive with Crawford, since she decided that she would just keep me for the whole night and mesh all my detentions together. That's a first. Ironic that your seventh year is a year full of 'firsts', isn't it?

Have to leave for detentions now. Amazing Crawly a juvenile nickname for Crawford made up by a few first years five years ago is awaiting my arrival to her domain. Alas! The time has come. Someone save me! I am a damsel waiting to be saved by the handsome Knight in Shining Armor from the evil, vicious dragon and her grisly cave!

Tch.

- Delayna Warbeck,

The Fantastic Damsel in Distress

I yawned widely as I snapped the book shut and slipped it under the silk silver-lined green sheets covering my four-poster bed. I slipped my quill between the hair band tying my hair in a tight ponytail and my actual skull. This has become a usual style for me over the years, and people find it very amusing to try and get the quill out of my hair. My hand is on their wrist or their back's on the ground before they can touch a single inch on my quill.

My eyes start to narrow dangerously low as I continued my trek to the dungeons to spend an expected dull detention session until I literally collided with somebody, head first. I stumbled backwards slightly, but retained my balance, but the figure I bumped into fell completely to the ground. My eyelids stayed half narrowed, but I watched him keenly behind my lowered eyelashes. Just the person I would want to run into.

For the slower ones, that was s-a-r-c-a-s-m. And for the even slower ones, those letters spell 'sarcasm'.

On my way to the dungeons (in which my pace was slow, since I had quite a bit of time left before the detention actually begins), I had smacked into Sirius Black.

"Black," I said curtly, trying to move around him. Ever the annoying prat, he blocked my way with his irritatingly muscular arm. Oh yes. How could I not forget that he's a Beater when I played Chaser against him back in third year? Yeah, I did play Chaser for three years – my third, fourth, and fifth year – on the Slytherin team. I was on the team, until Malfoy became Quidditch Captain in my sixth year (he was a year above me) and male Chasers replaced all the females. This made our team lose so badly after the event, of course. Malfoy can use his intelligence when he wants it, but I don't think he uses it much either. So anyways…

"Layna, doll, just the girl I was looking for!" Black exclaimed cheerfully. I blinked at him. It's almost half past nine and he's looking for me… why? I asked him just that. "Crawford told me to go look for you in case you wouldn't come. We're both due at there in about… half an hour." Like I didn't know that. Wait…

"We?" I asked incredulously, still trying to push through him. Even though I played Chaser and that helped me gain arm muscles, that won't beat someone who's been playing Beater for oh… five years and counting! "You're having detentions with me, too?" Dumb question. I don't think there's ever been a whole week without him getting at least one detention.

"Yep!" he replied needlessly. "You get to have detention with the most adorable specimen on this—"

"Stop it right there!" I cried vehemently, pointing my finger at his chest. I don't need to hear his tirade of egotistical-ness, if there is such a word. "Not. Another. Word. Out. Of. Your. Mouth." Every word I said, his chest received abuse from my index finger. He raised his hands up in a defensive manner.

"Okay!" I raised my finger menacingly, daring him to say anything else. He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. I sneered at him and increased my pace to the dungeons, suddenly eager to see Crawford, odd as that sounds. Black wouldn't say a word while she was around. I think she's the only professor that has any amount of control over Black, other than the Headmaster, of course. Then again, he defies him plenty from what I've heard.

Black caught up in my rapid steps easily, since he had much longer legs than me, standing at six feet, a whole eight inches taller than I stood. The tip of my head only reaches his damned shoulder, for Merlin's sake. "So," he said, obviously seeking to strike conversation once again. I turned and glared at him, not slowing down, cracking my index finger knuckle dangerously. He again rolled eyes and faced forward, I doing the same. From there, a silence ensued.

Until of course, for the second time that day, I ran smack into somebody. People really need to watch where they're going, myself included. This time, it was I who had fallen, and the other figure had only stumbled backwards. I rolled my eyes and growled in exasperation. Black, obviously trying to be the loveable gentleman, picked me up from the floor rather gracefully for one of his size. I glared at him, though grateful, I was still embarrassed he had done that. See the flaming cheeks? Well, you can't exactly see them, as it's very dark in the night, if you hadn't noticed, but use your imagination.

I looked up, determined on apologizing to whomever it was I had collided with clumsily. Hey, I was raised to have manners, with my uptight Ravenclaw family, and even though I'm not very happy with them, I have to agree that politeness is necessary. Why didn't I apologize to Black? Simple. He would've sucked it up and taken it as a compliment that I actually tolerate him to greater extent than I actually do and it would increase his ego size tremendously. Therefore, I looked the person in the eye. I was not pleased with Fate at that moment.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Delayna Warbeck, Ravenclaw traitor extraordinaire," drawled that annoyingly familiar voice. I shook my head, sighing tiredly.

"Snape, what do you want?" I seethed, my patience growing thin. I felt, rather than saw (seeing as it still is dark outside…), Black tense up next to me. I gave him a warning glare and put my arm across his chest to restrain him. He eased up slightly, but it was obvious he didn't like being the presence of Snape.

"Oh, I'm going on a stroll about the castle, Warbeck. I do believe it is allowed," he retorted silkily. He smirked at me, and I felt my anger bubbling to the surface. Other than Black, Snape is one of the few people that I lose my temper with easily. "You however, have no permission to be out in the corridors. So, given as I am a prefect," he stretched his shoulder back slightly so as to show the badge on his chest, "that will be 50 points off Gryffindor for you Black, and detention for you, Warbeck." I rolled my eyes. The git doesn't even know what powers he can exercise and which he cannot.

"You can't give detentions, Snape, nor can you take points off students heading off to their detentions," Black snapped back fiercely. I applauded him mentally. There's that intellect I rarely see shining through in that statement. I guess he hung around Lupin so much that he actually learned those particular facts.

"Who says?" Snape sneered. Merlin, what an idiot.

"THE HOGWARTS RULEBOOK, DUMBASS!" I exploded. "MISS WARBECK! That will be a week's worth of detentions for you!" I groaned mentally. Just my luck. Crawford arrived. She's probably looking for Black to check if he had run off on the job or something.

"Now, Warbeck, shouldn't you be in my detention?" she sneered, obviously pleased that she would be getting me into trouble. I cleared my emotions, as was usual for a Slytherin when they don't want to reveal any particular emotion to give pleasure to anyone else.

"Yes, Professor," I answered coolly. "Mister Black and I were on our way to detention, when Mister Snape came and hindered our trek." Black looked at me with raised eyebrows. The trick with Crawford is to impress her, or confuse her. She's not very bright when it comes to vocabulary, and it will most likely anger her more, but also embarrass her. It is quite amusing to see her flustered.

"Ah, yes, well…" she fumbled slightly. Regaining her composure smoothly, she narrowed her eyes. "You will be serving your week's detentions with Filch next week. Do keep out of trouble until then, Miss Warbeck. Mister Black, Miss Warbeck, I will see you both in detention. Continue on to the dungeons, and I will meet you there." With that, she swept away to most likely the caretaker, Filch's, office to file my detentions. I took a deep breath, and turned back to our lovely conversation.

"Snape, I suggest you leave, before Crawford returns and drags you off to detention as well," I told Snape as an afterthought. It's also quite obvious that Crawford only tolerates Snape to a limit. I have not a clue why; since the Snapes are a well-known family of purebloods, and I'm sure Severus Snape is a Death Eater already.

"Take a hint, Snivellus," Black sneered. If I hadn't known better, I'd have thought he was a Slytherin with that type of sneer. Absolutely no Gryffindor can ever do such a thing. Most are too happy-go-lucky to be able to sneer properly. It looked like Snape was about to retort, so I grabbed Black's arm and hauled him away, turning the nearest corridor.

A tense silence ensued as we entered the dank dungeons. The two of us positioned ourselves on different sides of the room and seated ourselves facing away from each other. Just because we teamed up against Snape doesn't mean we like each other that much. Or at least, on my part. I have no clue whether Black hates me or not. I don't really hate him, but our personalities clash so much that I just strongly dislike him.

I swear, you could've heard the crickets chirping in the night in that room. Neither of us talked, nor made much noise. It was incredibly boring to me. So I lay my head on my desk and sighed. Then started the daydreaming. Well, technically, it's 'night'-dreaming, but I'm not exactly sleeping.

"Please have mercy… please… My child is naught but six years old…" A woman screamed shrilly, the stench of fear creeping into my nose. "Please, have mercy! Take my life instead… spare my child… please…" Another loud scream echoed in this inky black darkness. It sounded more… juvenile… child-like…

A flash of green light intruded upon the darkness that had consumed my vision. Suddenly, all was still. Until an evil cackle sounded, echoing endlessly in my head…

"Warbeck! Head off your desk!" My head shot up, and my breathing grew erratic as I struggled to remember what exactly I had dreamed about. I knew I was dreaming… though it was more of a nightmare…

"Start scrubbing this cauldrons clean, Warbeck, Black. I want them all clean by the end of this session!" A bucket of grimy water and an even dirtier rag was placed in front of me unceremoniously. I groaned inaudibly, all thoughts of the strange dream flying out of my head as I reached in the bucket.

Ew.

Author's Notes: This is longer than the previous chapters, but I had a lot to get in. Thanks to all who reviewed. If you want your questions answered personally, leave your e-mail in a review, or e-mail me at the e-mail in my profile.

- Cerulean Asphodel