(Untitled)
Date/Time: 'Talking to Strangers'/ Wednesday, October 18th/ 1:52 pm
Location: DADA Classroom
Open to: Claire Frey
Currently Involving: Illiad
Nose skimmed the page, eyes fluttering this way and that over the reading, completely taken in by the subject. This was Illiad Hawkins at one of his best abilities-- in a classroom, with his nose pressed to ( Read more... )
Location: DADA Classroom
Open to: Claire Frey
Currently Involving: Illiad
Nose skimmed the page, eyes fluttering this way and that over the reading, completely taken in by the subject. This was Illiad Hawkins at one of his best abilities-- in a classroom, with his nose pressed to ( Read more... )
But grr she had made a big deal out of the paper thing! That, to Illiad, was annoying. This teacher, being new and all, was already on probation in his mind, and if she didn't think he could stand on his own two feet when being bullied... she was in for some sour news, indeed. He had to bite back on his tongue to prevent launching out at her in anger. The boys who sat behind him and already tormented him so did it because they thought he was weak, underbred, even feminine. Having a woman come to his rescue didn't help it at all.
He did his best to catch her eye, as if to give her a look that said, "I can do it on my own, thanks," before closing the book gently. He might've slammed it, had he not felt such affection for such goods. No, no, no, it wasn't the books fault he was annoyed.
The hand around the wand was gripped now. Different! What had she meant by that, anyways?! Sure, Slytherins weren't exactly the majority of the students in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, but that, obviously, wasn't the only distinction of being 'different' that Illiad had earned over the years. What had she heard? What did she know? He suddenly began to feel quite insecure and irritated about the subject.
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Claire held his eyes with a look that told him she was less than impressed with his silent attitude. "Everyone push the desks to the side of the room. Come on," she said with an air of impatience, "you all learned Wingardium Leviosa in your first year, it's not a tricky spell to do."
The students managed to move all the desks, slowly of course, as if this was some kind of new, unexplained magic. Claire gave then a slow clap but there was a grin on her face. "There's hope for you lot yet."
She paired the kids off herself. She knew it was irritating when teachers did that but she remembered what it felt like to never get to be someone's partner. She would have rathered all the teachers did this when she was at school.
"Lastly, Bridges, you're with Hawkins. Let's see if you feel as confident picking on the same person who happens to be the best in the class at non verbal spells."
She put her hands on Bridges' shoulders and whispered 'see you when you wake up'. She smiled at him as she walked around the rest of the class and she was pleased to see he at least had a sense of humour about the situation. She didn't look at Illiad, deciding to let him make up his own mind. Did he want a free shot at someone who picked on him or would he hate Claire even further?
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Before Bridges could even know what was happening, Illiad had disarmed him and put him into a full-body bind.
A neutral expression remained on the Slytherin's face as he watched the stiff Bridges fall over. He hated it when people gloated, so, naturally, knew he would've looked like just as much of a jackass had he done it. Not to mention, he already knew he was in the doghouse with Professor Frey for his silent attitude from before. Oh yes. When it came to authority figures, Illiad knew full and well how to be obedient. Even when he didn't like it.
And, naturally, it was all done non-verbally. Illiad had struggled quite a bit with mastering this technique in the beginning. It had been hard for him to keep his mind on the spell, and more often than not, he'd zone off in anger over certain things that had happened and wake up to find that the flower he was growing had wilted and died, or that the book he was summoning had fallen on some first year's head.
But as of recent, he'd started getting much better. He'd been able to push all his thoughts aside and simply focus on the spells when he needed to. He had trouble now and again, especially when he was in a position of being frustrated. Admittedly, had Frey not interferred with the bullying, it probably would've continued and made him even more flustered, so this sort of thing wouldn't have been possible. So it was almost lucky that it had. He hadn't perfected the non-verbal spells exactly, but he was getting pretty damn good when he was this perfect level of pissed.
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The rest of the lesson flew by and Claire was very happy to see several more people grasp the Non-Verbal spell concept. Overall it had been a good lesson and she told them all so as they slowly piled out of the room. Illiad was last to gather his books and Claire debated whether or not to say something. Finally she gave in as he reached the door.
"Hawkins, you have beautiful wand movement. And you're the quickest to pick up the non verbal stuff." She nodded to him and offered a small smile, not exactly friendly, but not as cold as she had been in the past either. "Good work."
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"Thank you, Professor," he said, coldly, the first words he'd spoken in the class all day. He didn't really care to open his mouth much during Defense Against the Dark Arts anymore, especially since they were doing non-verbal spells now. The fact that nearly his entire year from Slytherin had dropped the course was also unnerving-- he often felt isolated by the other three Houses and felt the need to defend his decision to stay at every turn. He was no Death Eater, that was true, but nor was he ready to join up with the Order of the Phoenix in any hurry. The point was that he hadn't quite picked a side-- but he knew that if he ever did, Defensive spells would serve him well, either way.
Plus, he never minded learning curses.
"Professor, I would apperciate it if, in the future, you butted out when it came to what the other students say about me," he said, quickly, not meeting her eyes, his own cold, grey ones on the floor. He knew what awaited him outside the door-- jeering and intimidations from Bridges and his friends because of the fact that a teacher had needed to come to his rescue. Naturally, there was no way Claire could've known this and no way that Illiad was going to tell her.
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Still, never had she been asked before, so politely, yet so forcefully, to butt out. It was admirable, in a way.
"Mr Hawkins, if it had been Harry Potter picking on You-Know-Who himself, I would have acted in the same way. Yes, I would have even given him a free shot, like I gave you at Bridges. No one breaks the rules and you will respect your fellow classmates whether you like them or not. So I would appreciate it if, in the future," she said, copying Illiad's words, "you stopped assuming everything is about you and you let me run my own classroom in the way I like."
There was no venom in her tone, in fact, more than anything, she sounded boringly matter-of-fact.
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What!
Illiad felt a flame of anger licking at his heart. Irritable, his eyes darted up from the floor as if he hadn't even been expecting them to do such an atrocious thing, a look of complete indignity on his face and in his brooding grey eyes.
"Professor!" he said, seeming completely taken back by her lack of care for hsi wishes. It was a simple thing to ask, wasn't it? That she butt out when people picked on him, that she leave him alone so that he wouldn't have to take their crap later.
"I don't think you get it-- the moment I walk out that door, the shite they're giving me is only going to get worse because I had to have a teacher defend me," he said, scowling. He didn't really care that he'd cursed at a teacher-- he had been on edge enough lately that it didn't really matter. "You obviously don't get it, but they've said those things, and done those things to me since I was a first year-- I only get by by ignoring it!"
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"I do understand, Mr Hawkins. I imagine they've changed tactics and spells but students were just as cruel in my day. Since my first day at Hogwarts I ignored it. You know what it got me? Nothing. Zip! They kept coming back with more, how did you say, shite, day after day."
She sat on one of the desks in the front row, a small smile on her face as if recalling a fond childhood memory insead of a depressing one.
"Ignoring it, no matter what other teachers say, never fixes anything. They'll never quit unless you stand up for yourself."
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"I don't always ignore it. The big things I stand up for-- but little bits of paper being thrown at me? People shoving me in the halls? They aren't worth getting into a fight over. Not to me," he said, biting at his lip and looking thoughtful. "So maybe things have changed since you were here-- or maybe our circumstances were different?" he asked, an eyebrow quirked in an almost sardonic fashion. "I don't think you came from a family practically descended from Gryffindor, to be the first sorted into Slytherin?"
"What were you insinuating when you said I was different?" he demanded, quite suddenly. His tone only held the slightest bit of spite for her choice of words, so it was clear that he had been offended by them.
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Perhaps she was wrong. Children often pushed the limits with teachers today, maybe they liked the punishment. Was it possible that today's world was breeding a bunch of masochists?
Claire blinked as he asked her why she thought he was different. She had forgotten she had even said it but the explanation was simple. "I was insinuating that your were a Slytherin in a sea of Ravenclaws. Was I somehow incorrect in saying that? Are you secretly a Hufflepuff?"
My my! This boy was certainly paranoid.
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Masochist. That was certainly one word to describe Illiad. Good thing Claire didn't spend too much time investigating the boy's hobbies.
"I best in the duels the ones who I think are worthy of my attentions. You might say that's a big arrogant, but you also might think the same if you were the one being told to duel idiots like Bridges in every class, idiots who couldn't so a Jelly-Legs Hex if You-Know-Who were coming for them," he nearly spat it. Oh no. The ones who recieved his attentions were the ones who annoyed him most of all-- the ones he hated more than the subtle annoyances of having paper balls thrown at him. Perhaps the ones who looked at his boyfriend the wrong way, or called his cousin a whore (only HE was allowed to do that, thank you very much!).
"And also for your information? I did come out on top in those duels. It was when they resorted to more primitive forms of fighting that I lost," small and boney was an ideal form for a Seeker, but for a good fist fight? Sure, he was quick, and when he had the element of surprise on his side, he could definately take down someone his size or smaller. But the majority of these students weren't exactly fitted to such a rubrik.
Not to mention the amount of times he'd gotten detention for fighting. Illiad was a model student and detention? It was his bane.
"Professor, there will always be people who hate me for what I am. My chosen method of fighting is to ignore the little ones and defend myself against the ones who could cause harm. Does that make any sense to you?"
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She wasn't going to answer his last question, it seemed to her ripe with contempt, as if he were talking to an infant. Arrogant as well as paranoid, it was an interesting combination. Yet it only heightened her interest in the boy.
"If you're done chastising me," she said, a wry smile twitching on her lips, "you might want to explain to me why you express frustration at being picked on for your differences and let me just express that 'differences' was your word, not mine, and yet you expect me to treat you differently in class by not punishing those who disrupt me."
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"You mustn't think I was chastising you!" Illiad... well, chastised her. His blood was boiling, after all and he WAS a Slytherin. The combination made it impossible to keep the smart-assery out of his tone. "Nor must you think me some sort of hypocrite for that reason. I'm not entirely sure you're understanding the situation. It's the negative attention I don't apperciate; the neutral, I can deal with."
He hoped that clarifying this to her might make her see his point, although he severely doubted it. He really did hate it when adults tried to meddle in his life.
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"I'm not sure you're explaining yourself clearly, Hawkins," she replied calmly, although she was beginning to get slightly aggravated. Shouldn't have opened your mouth and complimented him, said a voice inside her head. There are muggle plays that have gone for a shorter time than this lecture.
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He was beginning to get frustrated with her, but he knew that wasn't going to help.
"Look," he said, quite suddenly, hearing the bell ring. He had a free period, though, so he was okay. And apparently, she did as well because there were no students entering.
"It doesn't matter much, does it? I can take care of myself when best left to my own attentions, as far as bullying comes," bullying. He hated using that word. It always sounded so juvinile. Mummy, the boy at the park is a bully!
"I honestly don't care if you want to look after anyone else who gets bullied in your class, but you ought to know that with me, you might think you're doing a good deed by defending me, but you're really not. And while I do apperciate the fact that you're thinking of it, I don't apperciate the fact that you'd rather prefer me to get hurt far, far worse after class because of the fact that you stepped in and were valiant and everything and defended poor Illiad Hawkins."
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