(Untitled)
Week Name/Date/Time: 'Under Your Spell' / Thursday, September 22 / 1:00 PM Study Hall
Location: Great Hall
Open To: Wes
Currently Involving: Lauren, Wes
( And so it begins... )
Location: Great Hall
Open To: Wes
Currently Involving: Lauren, Wes
( And so it begins... )
He had been settled in at a table with a quill in his hand (though he wasn't actually doing work) when Lauren sat down beside him. His eyes immediately went to her with a glare, and when she started humming, he was sure that his jaw tightened.
She'd always bothered him, being both a Gryffindor and Muggleborn, and with an exasperated sigh, he cleared his throat. "What do you think you're doing?"
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However, in the spirit of a new year, and because she had this crazy habit of wanting to give people a chance, she smiled at him sincerely.
"Hello Wesley, fancy meeting you here. How was your summer? Excited for your last year? I bet you'll do great on NEWTs." Yes, she realized she was going to get the death glare, but it was rather amusing to see his reaction.
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She was sitting next to him, of all people, and trying to be cheerful as though they were friends! She must have had something slipped into her drink; it was the only explanation for her incredibly idiotic actions.
But -- then again...
He could always play a little... he hadn't had much fun yet this week, at least not fun in that sense. So, swallowing down his initial reaction of disgust with her, he managed to twist a smirk onto his face.
"My summer was lovely. I had quite a busy time with... my father's business."
He couldn't help the narrowing of his eyes as he spoke. Oh, he'd worked with his father's business, all right, and it was something that Lauren wouldn't appreciate in the least.
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Because of this, and because Lauren wasn't daft, she knew he was probably just putting on a show. Psh. No way was she going to fall for that trick. So if he wanted to play, oh, she'd so bring it.
"Oh how wonderful," Her smile became brighter, although she inwardly rolled her eyes at the mention of his fathers business. God knows what that man was up to. "I'm sure working with daddy dearest was good quality fun," She placed her hand lightly on his shoulder as she laughed, cringing to herself.
"Was that it, though? Just work?"
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Of course, his attitude (at least inwardly) completely changed when her hand went to his shoulder. It was a very good thing that he'd trained himself to stop displaying outward signs of disgust when the impure touched him; he had to fight the urge to twist away, however.
"That particular line of work is very... fulfilling," he replied, the barest hint of ice in his tone. He couldn't completely hide his distaste for speaking with someone like her.
"Why are you asking?" As he questioned her, he nonchalantly moved away from her hand and brushed his shoulder as though he had a speck of dust or something like that on it.
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Psh. As if.
She could sense that their little game of 'Let's pretend we're friends and be civil to each other' had come to an end. Pity.
"Why are you asking?"
Lauren shrugged, forcing a smile that was so obviously fake, "Because all this time I've wondered what the magnificent Wesley Broderick had been up to the entire summer." Her voice laced with sarcasm, "Didn't you know I pine for you, Wes?"
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He placed his quill gently on the table and leaned against the tabletop, watching her carefully. The little Lions always tended to have something up their sleeves, and he didn't trust her in the least.
"Everyone pines for me. Now what do you want?"
He didn't like the fact that she'd just sat at his table without even bothering to ask; which, if she had, he would have said no, absolutely not, go away. But that was beside the point.
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"Nice to know you're confident," She replied, thinking to herself that he would be the last person she would ever pine for. Honestly, what did Andra see in this bloke? The fact that one of her best mates was friends with him made her sick, and just a little disappointed.
"What do I want?" Lauren repeated the question, twirling her own quill around her fingers, "What I want is to finish this damn essay. So I'd appreciate it if you'd stop talking."
She was well aware that he had been at the table first, but it wasn't as if they had assigned seating or anything. She had just as much right to be at that table as him. And, she was stubborn. Lauren wasn't about to leave only because she knew that was what he wanted.
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Wes looked quite snobbish at this particular moment. He didn't like dealing with the Gryffindors in any way, and the fact that she didn't get up and leave when he hinted at her to do so? Well, that just got on his nerves.
"And as for that... essay?" He poked his finger at the parchment as though it were going to up and bite him, perhaps give him some of her Mudblood germs. "Go write it elsewhere, thank you."
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Honestly, if she wasn't in school and wouldn't get in trouble for it, Lauren would have very well smacked that snobbish expression off his face. Where the hell did he get the right to treat her like the lowest vermin on earth? But seeing as she was at school, and would very well get detention for it, she remained cool and collected, keeping her eyes focused on her parchment.
"No thanks, I'm actually quite comfortable here." She looked up at him, the sweetest smile she could muster gracing her face. "But you're more than welcome to move, if I'm too much of a distraction for you. I know you can't resist my good looks, Wes."
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She had to be annoying about this whole deal, didn't she? Why couldn't she just be a normal Gryffindor and go sit with her buddies, instead of sitting and bothering him?
He wasn't even in the mood to be properly spiteful to her.
"Mm, I quite like this table, so I'm not moving."
Oh, bollocks. That meant that he'd end up sitting with her, didn't it? Bloody hell, how did he get such cruel luck.
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"Joy," She bit off bitterly, locking her jaw as she once again turned to her work and tried her best to ignore him. Maybe if she ignored him long enough, he'd just disappear.
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What was wrong with her? She should have just packed up and moved like a good little girl, and instead she was still sitting there, working as though he wasn't even there.
"...look, do you want me to do something... unpleasant?"
He spoke quietly, leaning forward to talk to her. He didn't want her sitting there, and he was too damn stubborn to move himself.
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"Wes. Have I ever given you the impression that I'm scared of you? Because if I have, please forgive me. I never meant to mislead."
She took a moment to give him her best WTF expression, shaking her head slightly in disgust, "Must I remind you that I'm probably just as good, if not better at Charms than you? I would hate for you to be embarrassed by a girl kicking your sorry arse, if you so happened to do something 'unpleasant'" At the last word, Lauren brought her hands up and made the quote sign with her fingers.
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Snorting, he raised an eyebrow, looking actually highly amused by her whole little spiel. "You honestly think that some little charm will save you if I decide that you're on my bad side; which, I might add, you're fast getting to?"
She needed to get off her high horse and leave. She was so cocky when they were surrounded by other people, but he knew that if they were in a one-on-one conversation, she wouldn't be quite so eager to rile him up. "You're sadly mistaken."
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Although she had a good bet as to what he was on about. He was one of the biggest elitist bastards she knew. Why else did he hate her? He didn't even know her; never gave her a chance from the moment she stepped on that train the first day of school her first year. He hated her for her blood, something of which she despised him for.
"Ooooh," Lauren brought her hands up in a defensive pose, as if they would protect her from him, her expression one of mock fear, "I'm shaking in my boots. Literally."
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