[fic] grey magic [1/?]
Title: Grey Magic
Rating: T/PG
Summary: As a Slytherin Arizona Robbins knows that her crush on a Gryffindor has every chance of causing problems. But with the Triwizard Tournament again at Hogwarts and mysterious things seeming to seek out Alex Karev, her best friend, the Romeo and Juliet thing she has going with Callie Torres is the least of her issues.
{Grey's Hogwarts AU} The gang's all here, somewhere, but the focus is going to be Callie/Arizona.
It was barely one in the afternoon on the third day of September, the cold still crisp in the air, and Arizona Robbins lost her breath beneath a fist in her gut. Her swinging retaliation blow was caught by a strong hand before it could land, arms pulling her away from the scuffle. Alex Karev, her best friend and fellow Slytherin, was visible only by the green fringed tail of his scarf beneath a pile of black and red, flashes of gold.
Drawn unwillingly out of the fight, Arizona's hand reached for her wand. The same hand stopped her and she turned a furious glare on her older brother Tim. “Stop,” he ordered brusquely, two fingers in her face in the way that always made him look like their father.
“But Alex -” He grunted from under the dogpile and Arizona tried to lunge forward again, foiled by Tim's grip on the back of her robes.
“Let me,” he denied her, wading into the fracas himself. He freed Alex but caught a fist to the teeth for his trouble.
The Head Boy spitting out a mouthful of blood stopped the fight as quickly and completely as though he'd cast a spell. The rustle of dried, crunchy leaves against the stones of the courtyard was the only sound and Tim let the moment stretch and grow taut before he broke it. “Ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin,” he announced, firm glare keeping anyone from protesting. “Anyone that needs healing go. But there's no excuse for being late to your next class, so hurry up.”
Arizona and Alex, both bruised and bleeding, exchanged wordless looks and started toward the Astronomy Tower together. Tim caught up in two long strides. “We're fine,” Arizona groused, sending a look over her shoulder at him even as she wiped a busted lip on the sleeve of her robes. “We don't need an escort.”
“That's debatable,” Tim countered with a laugh. “It's the second day of school and you're already getting into fights. Do you two want to get banned from Quidditch before the season even starts?”
“That's not going to happen,” Alex growled, shooting his own glare at the older boy. Talent had been especially thin on the Slytherin team since the war but they were starting to turn things around. Their highly skilled Beaters were a big part of the reason this season stood to be one of their best in five years.
“So what happened?” Tim asked, still keeping pace with the two Slytherins. “Are you going to tell me why you were getting the hell beaten out of you?”
Things had changed since the Second Voldemort War, lots of huge, sweeping changes that had rocked the magical world. The Death Eaters hadn't been disbanded overnight, of course, but the most violent, destructive, and deranged of Voldemort's followers had been hunted down by almost equally ruthless militia style tactics. Family names were still important - Potter and Granger, Weasley, Longbottom, Malfoy - they were all household names. More names had distinguished themselves in the aftermath of the war - Robbins and Karev being two of the bigger ones on either side of light and dark. Their rivalry and confrontations had become practically legends in and of themselves, the Death Eater hunter Daniel Robbins and his endless pursuit of James Karev.
No matter what had happened after Voldemort's death, prejudice still ran deep. At Hogwarts the son of a Death Eater was as bad as a Death Eater to some.
It wasn't the first time Alex had been jumped because of his last name and he knew it wouldn't be the last either. Arizona had his back since the first time he'd gotten shoved on the train. It wasn't something he felt the need to explain to Gryffindor's golden boy, even if he was his best friend's brother.
“Tim,” Arizona said, the tone in her voice warning him not to push it. Tim felt the need to rescue them on a nearly weekly basis during the school year.
Both of his hands went up defensively. “Fine. Forget I asked.” He bumped Arizona's arm with an elbow. “Next time, though, just hex them,” Tim suggested with a grin as he peeled off toward his own class.
Arizona watched him go with a furtive glance sideways before shoving Alex in a direction that was not directly toward their class. “Oh, come on,” he grumbled. “We're going to be late again.”
“That's why it's good we're prefects,” she countered, still pushing him down the wrong hallway and breaking into a run. They were prefects but it wouldn't do for anyone to mention chronic lateness to their Head of House, Professor Catherine Avery, not when they'd be seeing her for their last class of the day. Even on her best day she was a bit harsh.
Alex's eyes rolled but he bit back most of his comments. “She's not even that hot,” he muttered under his breath.
“Bite your tongue, Karev,” Arizona shot back. He gave her a hard time about her crush on Callie Torres, the Gryffindor Quidditch team's beater, but even he couldn't deny her good looks.
“We've got Potions with them in three hours, you know,” Alex noted, sarcastically even as he jogged along beside her. From the breezeway around the corner they could catch sight of the fifth year Gryffindors walking to their first afternoon class. The group who'd jumped them were just catching up to the rest of their classmates when Arizona and Alex reached their vantage point and slowed to a walk. Callie Torres was distinguishable by her olive skin, visible beneath the rolled sleeves of her robes, her long black hair flowing and bouncing as she walked. From close range her simply amazing brown eyes were captivating and warm. “If you start carrying binoculars I don't think we can be friends anymore,” said Alex after a moment, his hands tucked in the pockets of his robes as they walked.
Arizona slugged him sharply on the shoulder, not caring if she hit somewhere that was already bruising. “Let's go.” They resumed their quick pace toward their class.
“You know, you could talk to her instead of giving each other fat lips on the pitch,” Alex suggested as they rounded the last corner. “I hear it works.” There were a few girls willing to talk to him (among other things) but most were seeking the supposed thrill of flirting with darkness. Very few were willing to stick around long enough to learn any different once they fell under Arizona's warning glare.
They sprinted into the classroom in a rush of robes and Arizona couldn't respond in the midst of their classmates but she stepped on his foot as they flung themselves into their seats by the door. The lecture began in earnest but Alex pushed a sheet of paper onto her half of their desk after a minute. 'Talking is stupid. Just make out with her.' He had to stifle a groan when she stomped on his toes again.
History of Magic was shared with the Hufflepuffs and taught by their Head of House, Jim Nelson. He was a capable teacher, watched out for the students in his house, but seemed almost to be a non-entity at Hogwarts. He was there but made no waves, attracted no notice. His class was only barely less predictable and boring than the man himself. Nothing like their last class of the day, Potions with Professor Avery. She was the Slytherin Head but gave them no slack in class. It was a joke in the halls that she was actually harsher on Hufflepuff than any other house because her son Jackson Avery had been sorted there instead of one of what she saw as the more preeminent houses.
The schedule this year had Gryffindor and Slytherin sharing Potions lectures three times a week and Professor Avery hadn't waited to start piling on the work, never mind that it was the first week of school. No one was late to Potions, ever. She was already scowling when Alex and Arizona arrived (five minutes early, thank you) and he gave her a confused look when their professor's eyes seemed to linger particularly on them.
“Dude, what did you do?” he muttered from the side of his mouth as they prepped their station with books and bottles of ingredients.
“I'm guessing she heard about how we got in a fight today,” Arizona whispered back in a hiss, distracted as she caught sight of Callie Torres coming in with a group of her friends. The Gryffindor shot her a smirking smile, the expression a challenge. They played rough on the field but the rivalry was almost playful, not quite friendly. Arizona blinked, distracted from answering the challenge by Alex's head dodging into her eye line. “What?”
“Well, I'm not looking to lose any more points today,” Alex complained, one hand slapping the cover of his textbook. “Stop mooning and get it together.” His eyes narrowed as his antagonist from earlier came in, bumping each of their chairs on his way to his own seat.
Professor Avery cleared her throat before Arizona could snap back at him, the last few students wandering in rushing quickly to their seats. “Don't get comfortable,” she told the room. “Now, it would seem that some of you have trouble cooperating with students who are not in your house.” Her eyes lingered on Arizona and Alex individually before sweeping across to their provoker. “House competition has always been a part of Hogwarts history, but we cannot allow academic rivalry to become something worse. Toward that end, we're working in pairs today - Gryffindor and Slytherin. No members of the same house may work together. Show me that you can work to foster some inter-house cooperation.” Alex and Arizona exchanged suddenly anxious glances. They were a team and it normally went without question that they'd work together. “Mr. Karev, stay seated. You'll be working with Ms. Torres,” she announced. “Ms. Robbins, with Mr. Sloan.” Arizona's face fell as she looked sideways at Mark Sloan's own expression of dismay. Her mood brightened somewhat when she noted that his lip was still swollen from her right hook, even as her own ribs ached behind her deep, bracing breath.
Alex glared steadily as Arizona and Callie picked up their bags and shuffled to switch seats, swapping strained smiles as they passed each other in the aisle. She wasn't sure, but Arizona thought she heard Callie whisper “Sorry,” as she moved.
Mark slouched sideways away from her as Arizona took her new seat, looking at her as if she was dripping with something disgusting that he didn't want to get on his robes. “Are you going to sit like that this whole time?” she asked irritably.
“Is your boyfriend going to stop staring at me this whole time?” he shot back, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk but still not close to touching her.
“He's not my boyfriend,” Arizona grumbled. “But probably not.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Great.”
“Wouldn't want you distracted. You need all the brain cells you've got left,” snarked Arizona, getting one more dig in before the professor's throat cleared again in warning. Mark's look of gaping frustration was worth the pointed look from Avery.
“Pages two hundred and seven through twelve. Impress me, people. Earn some of your house's points back,” she directed them, watching the pairs start to work. Most of the groups were amicable and began immediately, including Alex and Callie, but a few teams got stuck on distrustful glaring. Avery paced to the front of Mark and Arizona's desk and cleared her throat pointedly, waiting impatiently until they both jumped to open their books.
It wasn't the easiest potion to make, not that it surprised anyone that Professor Avery wasn't starting the school term slow, and the distrustful glances over the desk slowed their progress enough that Arizona and Mark were one of the last pairs to finish, earning a narrow look from their teacher, as well as a passing grade on their potion. As soon as she declared them finished the unwilling partners split up as fast as they could, Arizona snatching her books, bottles, and bag without taking the time to put anything away.
Alex was waiting for her in the hall. “Did Sloan say anything, do anything?” he questioned in a growling tone.
Snagging the sleeve of his robe, Arizona pulled him away from the classroom door before the straggling Gryffindors could follow them out. “No, come on. We've got practice now.” It wouldn't do for either of them to have another confrontation with Mark Sloan today, not if they wanted to see the first game of the season.
Their brooms were under their beds in the Slytherin dormitory, Arizona’s Nimbus 2100 and Alex's Cleansweep 20. Neither were the best on the market, Arizona's a hand down from Tim, and Alex's bought second hand after years of saving every galleon and knut. No one who saw them play could tell they weren't on the best brooms available though. They were a nearly flawless team, working together smoothly and easily on the pitch, knowing exactly where the other was on the field and responding accordingly.
The pitch belonged to Slytherin this afternoon, the weather foggy and only beginning to cool. The Beaters played defense against the Chasers while their Keeper, a fourth year with a fancy broom, tended goal. Between the three of them not one quaffle went through a goal ring. The bludgers they kept restrained in their box until nearly dark. Alex and Arizona stayed on their brooms while the rest of the team landed to strategize for their first game against Ravenclaw, dodging the belligerent and determined projectiles in the shadowy dusk until there was no light left to see them and they were late for dinner.
Getting them back into their crate in the dark earned Arizona freshly bruised ribs and more than a little embarrassment. They returned to their dorm to put their brooms back and freshen up after practice, Arizona's hair still wet when she limped into the Great Hall with her teammates. She flushed when she caught Callie Torres' eyes as she edged slowly between the tables, seeing her mouth moving without being able to hear her over the sound of commotion and conversation around dinner. She could almost swear that the other girl's gaze was concerned, though.
“What the hell, Sloan?” Callie asked at the Gryffindor table, leaning forward to swat at Mark Sloan's shoulder.
His mouth full, he just blinked at her. “What did I do?” he questioned while spitting out crumbs.
“Arizona -”
Just her name was enough to get his eyes rolling, his laugh dismissive. “What do you care? She's a Slytherin.”
“She's a person,” Callie countered, head shaking. “She's nice.”
“She's a snake!” he argued.
“You're an ass!” she snapped back. “You get off on beating up girls?”
The Great Hall wasn't exactly quiet in the middle of dinner but they weren't quite keeping their voices down and Mark glanced around when their raised volume drew eyes from the surrounding tables. His shoulders went stiff when he caught Tim's eyes up the length of their table. The Head Boy definitely wasn't pleased.
“It's not like that,” Mark tried to defend himself, eyes sliding back to the girl across from him.
“She's limping!”
He turned to catch sight of the Slytherin table with a sneer already on his face. Alex saw him and promptly sent a rude hand gesture back. “I didn't do that to her,” Mark denied. “If someone else went after the Death Eaters in training then good on them,” he declared, not bothering to lower his voice anymore.
Arizona looked up from her glass just in time to catch Callie's eyes and her gaze hardened in stubborn determination even as her face flushed in embarrassment. She knew what people said about them, wasn't stupid, but the idea of sitting and just letting it happen rankled her every single time. And her ribs hurt and Callie's sympathetic expression just made everything worse. She was too hardheaded to just get up and walk out knowing every eye in the hall would be watching her. Alex bumped her elbow with his when he passed her the platter of potatoes, breaking her stare at the Gryffindor table.
“Library or the dorm after this?” he asked, voice low.
“Dorm,” answered Arizona. “Definitely dorm.” She didn't feel up for having to watch her back tonight on top of her homework. They could get into the library after hours if they had to, it wouldn't be the first time. “We can listen to the game.”
He grumbled even as he nodded. “They're going to lose.”
Arizona's mouth pulled in a grimace. “The defense -”
“Is going to blow it. Like they always do,” Alex finished her statement for her. Arizona just narrowed blue eyes at him. “But we'll listen. Like we always do,” he sighed confirmation. It was almost as hard being a Falmouth Falcons fan as it was being a Slytherin these days.
“At least there'll probably be a good fight,” Arizona pointed out reasonably, shrugging her shoulders as she took a bite of her dinner. The Falcons' Beaters were as violent and reckless as they'd always been throughout their history. Their technique tended to leave a lot to be desired. An unintended glance up caught Callie's eyes again and she sighed, dropping her fork back to her plate. “I'm not really hungry.”
Without waiting for more Alex was standing up, though he did stuff his pockets with a bit of everything within reach. “Cool. The game starts in a little bit so we're barely going to catch the beginning.” His mouth was full of bread and crumbs sprayed. Arizona flicked them off the sleeve of her robes with a grimace and flushed with embarrassment when she noticed that Callie was still staring from the Gryffindor table. “What are you looking at?” Alex asked as he swallowed and started to go only to trip up on his stationary friend.
“What are you staring at?” The question made Callie jump, her gaze shifting almost guiltily from the sight of Arizona Robbins leaving the hall with Alex on her trail. They were practically inseparable but they weren't together. At least, that's what she'd heard. She tried not to look too closely at her own hope that it was actually true that the two were just friends.
“Nothing!” She ducked her head back to her plate and prayed that her best friend Meredith Grey hadn't seen exactly who she was staring after.
A barking laugh from the other side of the table denied her. “What a joke! You were scoping Robbins' ass.” Cristina Yang's eyes rolled as she leaned forward to steal food off Meredith's plate. She was in Ravenclaw but she and Meredith had been friends forever, so she didn't care that she was one of the few people in the room not sitting at her house table. “I'm surprised you noticed, Mer,” she continued, dodging her friend's attempts to swat her hands away from her plate. “You've been mooning at Derek Shepherd since we walked in.”
“I hate you,” Meredith declared dryly, narrow gaze shooting across the table. Cristina didn't seem to notice, continued to pick around her old friend's plate. “You know there's food all over the table, right?” She swung a swift kick under the table but got the base of the opposite bench and groaned as her toes protested the collision with the hard wood. “Like you haven't been sneaking peeks at Owen Hunt? I'm not even sure you come over here to sit with us but to be closer to him.”
Cristina's eyes just rolled, not taking the bait. “How's Shepherd's hair?” she shot back, still picking over her friend's plate. “Robbins has a good ass,” Cristina observed toward Callie sincerely, shrugging her shoulders.
“Stop talking,” ordered Callie shortly, ducking her head and taking a long drink from her glass. Cristina wasn't the only person in the Hall sitting with members of another house but it wasn't a common thing, even in the supposedly 'modern' magical world they were living in. Mark Sloan laughed loudly at something down the table and she sighed, reminded of the biases that were still everywhere. It wasn't exactly Romeo and Juliet but she just couldn't admit out loud exactly how often Arizona Robbins crossed her mind.
“Are we going to listen to the game tonight?” Meredith asked, changing the subject for Callie's sake, and her own. She'd been sneaking glances at the Ravenclaw prefect all night. And in their first class this morning. And on the train to school. She couldn't help herself. Derek had always been kind of dorky - too thin and gangly, his hair curly and sticking up in every direction - but he'd filled out over the summer and learned how to make his hair work for him and Meredith had nearly dropped her bag when he'd come onto the train platform last week. She'd been sneaking glances for days. He was just... dreamy. As much as that word kind of made her cringe there was no other way to describe him.
“I think one of the guys was going to bring a wireless out into the courtyard,” Cristina offered, still distracted by her pilfering.
Callie reasoned, “It's not too cold yet. It could be fun.”
Meredith pushed her plate away from her with a sigh. “Cristina, are you even going to come?” Her friend played Seeker on her house team, as she did for Gryffindor, but had to be dragged to watch the other house teams play.
“I think the team would probably come,” Callie commented, taking her opportunity to get Cristina back for her comments about Arizona. She smirked in triumph when the Ravenclaw's eyes darted up to catch a glimpse of Gryffindor's male prefect, Quidditch Keeper, and team captain, Owen Hunt, his red head bowed in close conversation with his best friend Teddy Altman. Callie felt bad as soon as Cristina's gaze went distant and she wanted to apologize.
“I'll go anyway,” Cristina said archly, blinking and shaking it off. “Even if I do have to hang out with Gryffindor's meat heads.” She not so subtly jerked her head in Mark's direction. Meredith laughed and Callie barely contained hers.
“What?” Mark asked cluelessly.
“Are you going to listen to the game?” Callie asked him, unable to help smiling as she endeavored not to burst into laughter.
“Oh yeah!” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I got some firewhiskey so it's going to be a party.”
Cristina perked up even as Meredith rolled her eyes. Her mother was the head of Gryffindor house, and one of the strictest professors in school, but her daughter and her friends didn't let that scare them away from a good time. “Where'd you get that from?”
He grinned. “You'll never know.”
“I'm in,” Cristina chimed in. “But I've got Defense in the morning, so I have to leave by midnight.” Nobody with any brains went to Professor Ellis Grey's Defense Against the Dark Arts class hungover. Cristina Yang was one of the best in their year. Her goal was to be better than many of the sixth and seventh years as well and she had the talent to do it, too.
“You can tell Mer's mom hey for us,” Mark joked, standing up from his seat. “We going to do this or what? Torres, you in?”
Multiple sets of eyes on her made Callie nod. “Whatever, let's go.”
Cristina leaned over as they were standing up. “I could give Robbins the message that you like her ass too, if you want,” she offered under her breath. She only smirked wickedly when Callie floundered at her for a long moment.
“Hey Hunt!” Cristina's shoulders went stiff when Mark raised his voice behind them to call down the table to their classmate. “You and Altman coming to listen to the game?”
Callie caught Cristina's eyes and the gaze was commiserating. “That guy's an ass,” Cristina muttered out of the side of her mouth, both of them smiling after a second. She leaned over the table again as Meredith hiked her bag over her shoulder, searching knowingly through her friend's book bag to retrieve a flask. Meredith gasped but their exit hadn't drawn any attention from the teacher's table and Cristina took a sip before passing the drink to Callie, their bodies shielding the actions from the front table.
They refilled Meredith's flask from Mark's bottle, and took the opportunity to top off Cristina's. The game was a blowout, as predicted, but no one had come out to hear the game, really, and the final whistle was not the end of the impromptu party. By nearly midnight Mark had some poor fourth year backed against a wall while Meredith glared from the other side of the courtyard. Her mixed feelings about her previously unknown half sister Lexie Grey apparently didn't extend to wanting the younger girl anywhere near her teammate. “Can't you keep a leash on him?” she asked Callie without blinking.
The Beater scoffed, rolling her eyes as she sipped her drink. “Yeah, right, Mer.” She followed her friend's gaze and bumped her arm with an elbow. “You know, you could just go over there and talk to her.” Meredith's gaze was pointed as it swung to her. Callie shrugged. “She's approached you how many times? Just go tell her to watch her back with Mark.”
“He's your partner!”
“She's your sister,” Callie countered with a smirk. “Half-sister, whatever,” she corrected herself before her friend could do it. “She wants to be your mini-me. If you tell her to keep her distance from Sloan she'll never even speak to him again, I bet.” Mark leaned on his arm over her head and gave Lexie Grey his best charming grin. Callie winced and shook her head, remembering the occasions her teammate had turned his dubious 'charms' on her. Unfortunately, Lexie looked flattered. “He does know she's thirteen, right?”
“She's fourteen,” Meredith corrected under her breath, ignoring her friend's eyebrow rising. So she'd looked up her sister, half-sister, so what? It wasn't a crime to be curious.
“I heard she skipped a year.”
“It was a few classes,” said Meredith shortly. She was her mother's daughter, but she'd heard that Lexie Grey was no slouch in the classroom. Of course, she wouldn't be, being in Ravenclaw. “Cristina, is she as smart as everybody says?”
Their friend snorted into her drink. “Oh, Little Grey's good.” Meredith's face twisted at the nickname. “I heard she knocked a guy out in dueling practice yesterday. Everyone in the common room was talking about it.” She drained her cup and incinerated it with a flick of her wand. “This place is dead. Later. Mer, I'll get your book back to you tomorrow. Callie, I'll tell Robbins you love her.” Callie's empty, crumpled cup hit her between the shoulders as she was leaving and she sent a wicked grin over her shoulder.
“So, what's the deal with you and her, anyway?” Meredith asked after a moment. “I mean, we play them, and -”
“I broke her nose last year in a game. And you don't cut Cristina any slack either,” countered Callie in a desperate attempt to get the focus off of her and her crush on Arizona Robbins.
“But I also don't want to get in her pants,” Meredith reminded her with a smirk. “But, Callie, I've seen how you look at Arizona when you think no one's watching.”
Callie sighed but didn't deny it. “You're saying it's a bad idea.”
“I'm saying she's a Slytherin.”
“Meredith, you know all that stuff is bull. She's not like that,” Callie protested.
“Her dad's a Gryffindor, and her brother! And what about that Karev she's always with? You know who his dad is. There's no way he's not -”
“They've never done anything to anybody!” snapped Callie shortly. “Neither one of them!” Her expression darkened. There were no Slytherins at the gathering, though she did see a few Hufflepuffs mingling with the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.
It had been years since the war but there was still no trust between the houses, at least no trust for Slytherins. Alex Karev had been written off by his schoolmates on his first day, even by members of his own house. His only break had come from meeting Arizona Robbins on the train. His father's name was as well known as hers was but when he'd been shoved by a group of kids on their first ride to Hogwarts Arizona was the one to step up and stand beside him, the only one who'd given him a chance even after she'd learned his name.
“I'm getting out of here too,” Callie decided, suddenly frustrated with everyone around her. “I'll see you.”
“Callie,” Meredith started, sensing that she'd annoyed her friend. “I didn't mean - I just don't want to see you get hurt, you know?” Callie sighed but didn't respond. “Just be careful, okay?”
Meredith was just looking out for her, she knew that. It wasn't like she was going to be able to muster enough courage to ask Arizona out anyway. “Okay,” she sighed. She spotted Mark making his move across the grass and gestured. “If you want to give someone else a talk about bad dating choices here's your chance.” Meredith crossed the courtyard in a pair of seconds, muttering expletives under her breath.
Callie pulled her sleeves down from where they were rolled up as she walked into the breezeway and started back toward the heart of the castle. It was later than she'd meant to stay out tonight and there would be prefects walking the halls by now. She was close to the Gryffindor common room, little chance of being caught.
“Torres...” The voice from the dark corner was sarcastic and amused. Arizona stepped out with a smirk on her lips. “You have a nice night?”
Callie couldn't help smiling back, even if she was supposedly now in trouble. “Not too bad,” she answered, her own voice dry.
“Good walk?” asked Arizona, her hands tucked in the pocket of her robes. She was nearly done with her patrol, which was good because she'd never made it to the nurse and her side was aching. Catching Callie sneaking back in from the Gryffindor party was an unexpected surprise for her evening. She knew there was a party, knew that if she stepped any closer she'd probably be able to smell the firewhiskey on the other girl's breath. After everything today, the fight and having to work with Sloan in class, if it was anyone else she'd have been happy to bust a Gryffindor sneaking back in after hours. But it was Callie, the girl she'd had a stupid crush on for a year, with the seemingly endless dark hair and equally infinite dark eyes, giving her a smile she only saw infrequently when she caught the other girl's gaze across a classroom or the Great Hall.
Callie nodded, trying to get the goofy smile off her face. The drinks had loosened her up though. And she'd been thinking about Arizona while she'd walked, making it hard to wipe the expression from her mouth when she'd come across her in the dark. “How's Alex?” she asked without thinking. It was actually strange that they weren't together. Maybe they took turns or something. She was glad though, grateful for an opportunity to see Arizona somewhere outside of class or a social situation that inevitably turned awkward sooner rather than later. Working with Alex in Potions was the closest she'd come to one on one time with Arizona in ages, as pathetic as it sounded in her head.
Arizona's expression tightened, innate wariness pulling lines around her mouth. “He's okay,” she said slowly, unsure what Callie might say next. Her hand rose unconsciously to cover her own bruised ribs.
Callie's eyes caught the motion and frowned. “How are you?” She stepped closer, concern in her tone, in her eyes. “Mark's an asshole. I'm sorry.”
“You don't apologize for him,” Arizona stated flatly, more severe than she'd intended. Callie blinked and she shook her head quickly. “It wasn't - I just -” She just wasn't used to having to do anything but fight back and react. Apologies weren't something she was used to hearing. She had no interest in Callie apologizing for Mark Sloan, however. “You didn't do it.” She took a breath. “And he didn't do this,” she admitted honestly. “We were practicing in the dark and a bludger got me.”
“Arizona!” Callie's yelp of her name startled her and she could only stand in her spot as Callie was suddenly in her space, one hand reaching for her side. “Why didn't you go to the hospital wing? Can you breathe alright? Are you -?”
Callie smelled good. It was the only thought that could penetrate Arizona's suddenly cloudy mind. She didn't smell like whatever she'd been drinking, but like trees and wind, something light and earthy. It was nice, being this close to her.
“Oh-h-h,” Callie breathed as she recognized their proximity. “Sorry,” she apologized without removing her hand. Their eyes locked and Callie felt her breath come short.
“No problem,” Arizona promised, licking her lips and swallowing hard. Callie's gaze flicked to her mouth beyond her control. “I, um -” She exhaled and made herself lean away. “I'm okay.” She covered Callie's hand briefly before pulling it down off her side. Realizing how close they were standing both took a half step back.
“Oh, good. I'm glad you're okay,” Callie said genuinely. She smiled softly again, the same one that had appeared earlier, and Arizona felt her heart stutter. “I'm very glad I bumped into you too,” Callie continued, tone lighter, verging on flirty, and Arizona blinked, a smile starting to grow on her mouth.
Nodding her head, Arizona gestured in the direction of Gryffindor's common room. “Good night, Callie.” She wasn't sure what else to say. The unspoken direction to go straight there was answered with another nod. She was still a prefect and it wouldn't do to have someone else catching Callie outside of her house at this hour. Arizona resisted her impulse to follow her there but couldn't help a look over her shoulder, catching Callie's eyes for a moment before she turned the corner.
[part 2 here]
Rating: T/PG
Summary: As a Slytherin Arizona Robbins knows that her crush on a Gryffindor has every chance of causing problems. But with the Triwizard Tournament again at Hogwarts and mysterious things seeming to seek out Alex Karev, her best friend, the Romeo and Juliet thing she has going with Callie Torres is the least of her issues.
{Grey's Hogwarts AU} The gang's all here, somewhere, but the focus is going to be Callie/Arizona.
It was barely one in the afternoon on the third day of September, the cold still crisp in the air, and Arizona Robbins lost her breath beneath a fist in her gut. Her swinging retaliation blow was caught by a strong hand before it could land, arms pulling her away from the scuffle. Alex Karev, her best friend and fellow Slytherin, was visible only by the green fringed tail of his scarf beneath a pile of black and red, flashes of gold.
Drawn unwillingly out of the fight, Arizona's hand reached for her wand. The same hand stopped her and she turned a furious glare on her older brother Tim. “Stop,” he ordered brusquely, two fingers in her face in the way that always made him look like their father.
“But Alex -” He grunted from under the dogpile and Arizona tried to lunge forward again, foiled by Tim's grip on the back of her robes.
“Let me,” he denied her, wading into the fracas himself. He freed Alex but caught a fist to the teeth for his trouble.
The Head Boy spitting out a mouthful of blood stopped the fight as quickly and completely as though he'd cast a spell. The rustle of dried, crunchy leaves against the stones of the courtyard was the only sound and Tim let the moment stretch and grow taut before he broke it. “Ten points from Gryffindor and Slytherin,” he announced, firm glare keeping anyone from protesting. “Anyone that needs healing go. But there's no excuse for being late to your next class, so hurry up.”
Arizona and Alex, both bruised and bleeding, exchanged wordless looks and started toward the Astronomy Tower together. Tim caught up in two long strides. “We're fine,” Arizona groused, sending a look over her shoulder at him even as she wiped a busted lip on the sleeve of her robes. “We don't need an escort.”
“That's debatable,” Tim countered with a laugh. “It's the second day of school and you're already getting into fights. Do you two want to get banned from Quidditch before the season even starts?”
“That's not going to happen,” Alex growled, shooting his own glare at the older boy. Talent had been especially thin on the Slytherin team since the war but they were starting to turn things around. Their highly skilled Beaters were a big part of the reason this season stood to be one of their best in five years.
“So what happened?” Tim asked, still keeping pace with the two Slytherins. “Are you going to tell me why you were getting the hell beaten out of you?”
Things had changed since the Second Voldemort War, lots of huge, sweeping changes that had rocked the magical world. The Death Eaters hadn't been disbanded overnight, of course, but the most violent, destructive, and deranged of Voldemort's followers had been hunted down by almost equally ruthless militia style tactics. Family names were still important - Potter and Granger, Weasley, Longbottom, Malfoy - they were all household names. More names had distinguished themselves in the aftermath of the war - Robbins and Karev being two of the bigger ones on either side of light and dark. Their rivalry and confrontations had become practically legends in and of themselves, the Death Eater hunter Daniel Robbins and his endless pursuit of James Karev.
No matter what had happened after Voldemort's death, prejudice still ran deep. At Hogwarts the son of a Death Eater was as bad as a Death Eater to some.
It wasn't the first time Alex had been jumped because of his last name and he knew it wouldn't be the last either. Arizona had his back since the first time he'd gotten shoved on the train. It wasn't something he felt the need to explain to Gryffindor's golden boy, even if he was his best friend's brother.
“Tim,” Arizona said, the tone in her voice warning him not to push it. Tim felt the need to rescue them on a nearly weekly basis during the school year.
Both of his hands went up defensively. “Fine. Forget I asked.” He bumped Arizona's arm with an elbow. “Next time, though, just hex them,” Tim suggested with a grin as he peeled off toward his own class.
Arizona watched him go with a furtive glance sideways before shoving Alex in a direction that was not directly toward their class. “Oh, come on,” he grumbled. “We're going to be late again.”
“That's why it's good we're prefects,” she countered, still pushing him down the wrong hallway and breaking into a run. They were prefects but it wouldn't do for anyone to mention chronic lateness to their Head of House, Professor Catherine Avery, not when they'd be seeing her for their last class of the day. Even on her best day she was a bit harsh.
Alex's eyes rolled but he bit back most of his comments. “She's not even that hot,” he muttered under his breath.
“Bite your tongue, Karev,” Arizona shot back. He gave her a hard time about her crush on Callie Torres, the Gryffindor Quidditch team's beater, but even he couldn't deny her good looks.
“We've got Potions with them in three hours, you know,” Alex noted, sarcastically even as he jogged along beside her. From the breezeway around the corner they could catch sight of the fifth year Gryffindors walking to their first afternoon class. The group who'd jumped them were just catching up to the rest of their classmates when Arizona and Alex reached their vantage point and slowed to a walk. Callie Torres was distinguishable by her olive skin, visible beneath the rolled sleeves of her robes, her long black hair flowing and bouncing as she walked. From close range her simply amazing brown eyes were captivating and warm. “If you start carrying binoculars I don't think we can be friends anymore,” said Alex after a moment, his hands tucked in the pockets of his robes as they walked.
Arizona slugged him sharply on the shoulder, not caring if she hit somewhere that was already bruising. “Let's go.” They resumed their quick pace toward their class.
“You know, you could talk to her instead of giving each other fat lips on the pitch,” Alex suggested as they rounded the last corner. “I hear it works.” There were a few girls willing to talk to him (among other things) but most were seeking the supposed thrill of flirting with darkness. Very few were willing to stick around long enough to learn any different once they fell under Arizona's warning glare.
They sprinted into the classroom in a rush of robes and Arizona couldn't respond in the midst of their classmates but she stepped on his foot as they flung themselves into their seats by the door. The lecture began in earnest but Alex pushed a sheet of paper onto her half of their desk after a minute. 'Talking is stupid. Just make out with her.' He had to stifle a groan when she stomped on his toes again.
History of Magic was shared with the Hufflepuffs and taught by their Head of House, Jim Nelson. He was a capable teacher, watched out for the students in his house, but seemed almost to be a non-entity at Hogwarts. He was there but made no waves, attracted no notice. His class was only barely less predictable and boring than the man himself. Nothing like their last class of the day, Potions with Professor Avery. She was the Slytherin Head but gave them no slack in class. It was a joke in the halls that she was actually harsher on Hufflepuff than any other house because her son Jackson Avery had been sorted there instead of one of what she saw as the more preeminent houses.
The schedule this year had Gryffindor and Slytherin sharing Potions lectures three times a week and Professor Avery hadn't waited to start piling on the work, never mind that it was the first week of school. No one was late to Potions, ever. She was already scowling when Alex and Arizona arrived (five minutes early, thank you) and he gave her a confused look when their professor's eyes seemed to linger particularly on them.
“Dude, what did you do?” he muttered from the side of his mouth as they prepped their station with books and bottles of ingredients.
“I'm guessing she heard about how we got in a fight today,” Arizona whispered back in a hiss, distracted as she caught sight of Callie Torres coming in with a group of her friends. The Gryffindor shot her a smirking smile, the expression a challenge. They played rough on the field but the rivalry was almost playful, not quite friendly. Arizona blinked, distracted from answering the challenge by Alex's head dodging into her eye line. “What?”
“Well, I'm not looking to lose any more points today,” Alex complained, one hand slapping the cover of his textbook. “Stop mooning and get it together.” His eyes narrowed as his antagonist from earlier came in, bumping each of their chairs on his way to his own seat.
Professor Avery cleared her throat before Arizona could snap back at him, the last few students wandering in rushing quickly to their seats. “Don't get comfortable,” she told the room. “Now, it would seem that some of you have trouble cooperating with students who are not in your house.” Her eyes lingered on Arizona and Alex individually before sweeping across to their provoker. “House competition has always been a part of Hogwarts history, but we cannot allow academic rivalry to become something worse. Toward that end, we're working in pairs today - Gryffindor and Slytherin. No members of the same house may work together. Show me that you can work to foster some inter-house cooperation.” Alex and Arizona exchanged suddenly anxious glances. They were a team and it normally went without question that they'd work together. “Mr. Karev, stay seated. You'll be working with Ms. Torres,” she announced. “Ms. Robbins, with Mr. Sloan.” Arizona's face fell as she looked sideways at Mark Sloan's own expression of dismay. Her mood brightened somewhat when she noted that his lip was still swollen from her right hook, even as her own ribs ached behind her deep, bracing breath.
Alex glared steadily as Arizona and Callie picked up their bags and shuffled to switch seats, swapping strained smiles as they passed each other in the aisle. She wasn't sure, but Arizona thought she heard Callie whisper “Sorry,” as she moved.
Mark slouched sideways away from her as Arizona took her new seat, looking at her as if she was dripping with something disgusting that he didn't want to get on his robes. “Are you going to sit like that this whole time?” she asked irritably.
“Is your boyfriend going to stop staring at me this whole time?” he shot back, leaning forward with his elbows on the desk but still not close to touching her.
“He's not my boyfriend,” Arizona grumbled. “But probably not.”
Mark rolled his eyes. “Great.”
“Wouldn't want you distracted. You need all the brain cells you've got left,” snarked Arizona, getting one more dig in before the professor's throat cleared again in warning. Mark's look of gaping frustration was worth the pointed look from Avery.
“Pages two hundred and seven through twelve. Impress me, people. Earn some of your house's points back,” she directed them, watching the pairs start to work. Most of the groups were amicable and began immediately, including Alex and Callie, but a few teams got stuck on distrustful glaring. Avery paced to the front of Mark and Arizona's desk and cleared her throat pointedly, waiting impatiently until they both jumped to open their books.
It wasn't the easiest potion to make, not that it surprised anyone that Professor Avery wasn't starting the school term slow, and the distrustful glances over the desk slowed their progress enough that Arizona and Mark were one of the last pairs to finish, earning a narrow look from their teacher, as well as a passing grade on their potion. As soon as she declared them finished the unwilling partners split up as fast as they could, Arizona snatching her books, bottles, and bag without taking the time to put anything away.
Alex was waiting for her in the hall. “Did Sloan say anything, do anything?” he questioned in a growling tone.
Snagging the sleeve of his robe, Arizona pulled him away from the classroom door before the straggling Gryffindors could follow them out. “No, come on. We've got practice now.” It wouldn't do for either of them to have another confrontation with Mark Sloan today, not if they wanted to see the first game of the season.
Their brooms were under their beds in the Slytherin dormitory, Arizona’s Nimbus 2100 and Alex's Cleansweep 20. Neither were the best on the market, Arizona's a hand down from Tim, and Alex's bought second hand after years of saving every galleon and knut. No one who saw them play could tell they weren't on the best brooms available though. They were a nearly flawless team, working together smoothly and easily on the pitch, knowing exactly where the other was on the field and responding accordingly.
The pitch belonged to Slytherin this afternoon, the weather foggy and only beginning to cool. The Beaters played defense against the Chasers while their Keeper, a fourth year with a fancy broom, tended goal. Between the three of them not one quaffle went through a goal ring. The bludgers they kept restrained in their box until nearly dark. Alex and Arizona stayed on their brooms while the rest of the team landed to strategize for their first game against Ravenclaw, dodging the belligerent and determined projectiles in the shadowy dusk until there was no light left to see them and they were late for dinner.
Getting them back into their crate in the dark earned Arizona freshly bruised ribs and more than a little embarrassment. They returned to their dorm to put their brooms back and freshen up after practice, Arizona's hair still wet when she limped into the Great Hall with her teammates. She flushed when she caught Callie Torres' eyes as she edged slowly between the tables, seeing her mouth moving without being able to hear her over the sound of commotion and conversation around dinner. She could almost swear that the other girl's gaze was concerned, though.
“What the hell, Sloan?” Callie asked at the Gryffindor table, leaning forward to swat at Mark Sloan's shoulder.
His mouth full, he just blinked at her. “What did I do?” he questioned while spitting out crumbs.
“Arizona -”
Just her name was enough to get his eyes rolling, his laugh dismissive. “What do you care? She's a Slytherin.”
“She's a person,” Callie countered, head shaking. “She's nice.”
“She's a snake!” he argued.
“You're an ass!” she snapped back. “You get off on beating up girls?”
The Great Hall wasn't exactly quiet in the middle of dinner but they weren't quite keeping their voices down and Mark glanced around when their raised volume drew eyes from the surrounding tables. His shoulders went stiff when he caught Tim's eyes up the length of their table. The Head Boy definitely wasn't pleased.
“It's not like that,” Mark tried to defend himself, eyes sliding back to the girl across from him.
“She's limping!”
He turned to catch sight of the Slytherin table with a sneer already on his face. Alex saw him and promptly sent a rude hand gesture back. “I didn't do that to her,” Mark denied. “If someone else went after the Death Eaters in training then good on them,” he declared, not bothering to lower his voice anymore.
Arizona looked up from her glass just in time to catch Callie's eyes and her gaze hardened in stubborn determination even as her face flushed in embarrassment. She knew what people said about them, wasn't stupid, but the idea of sitting and just letting it happen rankled her every single time. And her ribs hurt and Callie's sympathetic expression just made everything worse. She was too hardheaded to just get up and walk out knowing every eye in the hall would be watching her. Alex bumped her elbow with his when he passed her the platter of potatoes, breaking her stare at the Gryffindor table.
“Library or the dorm after this?” he asked, voice low.
“Dorm,” answered Arizona. “Definitely dorm.” She didn't feel up for having to watch her back tonight on top of her homework. They could get into the library after hours if they had to, it wouldn't be the first time. “We can listen to the game.”
He grumbled even as he nodded. “They're going to lose.”
Arizona's mouth pulled in a grimace. “The defense -”
“Is going to blow it. Like they always do,” Alex finished her statement for her. Arizona just narrowed blue eyes at him. “But we'll listen. Like we always do,” he sighed confirmation. It was almost as hard being a Falmouth Falcons fan as it was being a Slytherin these days.
“At least there'll probably be a good fight,” Arizona pointed out reasonably, shrugging her shoulders as she took a bite of her dinner. The Falcons' Beaters were as violent and reckless as they'd always been throughout their history. Their technique tended to leave a lot to be desired. An unintended glance up caught Callie's eyes again and she sighed, dropping her fork back to her plate. “I'm not really hungry.”
Without waiting for more Alex was standing up, though he did stuff his pockets with a bit of everything within reach. “Cool. The game starts in a little bit so we're barely going to catch the beginning.” His mouth was full of bread and crumbs sprayed. Arizona flicked them off the sleeve of her robes with a grimace and flushed with embarrassment when she noticed that Callie was still staring from the Gryffindor table. “What are you looking at?” Alex asked as he swallowed and started to go only to trip up on his stationary friend.
“What are you staring at?” The question made Callie jump, her gaze shifting almost guiltily from the sight of Arizona Robbins leaving the hall with Alex on her trail. They were practically inseparable but they weren't together. At least, that's what she'd heard. She tried not to look too closely at her own hope that it was actually true that the two were just friends.
“Nothing!” She ducked her head back to her plate and prayed that her best friend Meredith Grey hadn't seen exactly who she was staring after.
A barking laugh from the other side of the table denied her. “What a joke! You were scoping Robbins' ass.” Cristina Yang's eyes rolled as she leaned forward to steal food off Meredith's plate. She was in Ravenclaw but she and Meredith had been friends forever, so she didn't care that she was one of the few people in the room not sitting at her house table. “I'm surprised you noticed, Mer,” she continued, dodging her friend's attempts to swat her hands away from her plate. “You've been mooning at Derek Shepherd since we walked in.”
“I hate you,” Meredith declared dryly, narrow gaze shooting across the table. Cristina didn't seem to notice, continued to pick around her old friend's plate. “You know there's food all over the table, right?” She swung a swift kick under the table but got the base of the opposite bench and groaned as her toes protested the collision with the hard wood. “Like you haven't been sneaking peeks at Owen Hunt? I'm not even sure you come over here to sit with us but to be closer to him.”
Cristina's eyes just rolled, not taking the bait. “How's Shepherd's hair?” she shot back, still picking over her friend's plate. “Robbins has a good ass,” Cristina observed toward Callie sincerely, shrugging her shoulders.
“Stop talking,” ordered Callie shortly, ducking her head and taking a long drink from her glass. Cristina wasn't the only person in the Hall sitting with members of another house but it wasn't a common thing, even in the supposedly 'modern' magical world they were living in. Mark Sloan laughed loudly at something down the table and she sighed, reminded of the biases that were still everywhere. It wasn't exactly Romeo and Juliet but she just couldn't admit out loud exactly how often Arizona Robbins crossed her mind.
“Are we going to listen to the game tonight?” Meredith asked, changing the subject for Callie's sake, and her own. She'd been sneaking glances at the Ravenclaw prefect all night. And in their first class this morning. And on the train to school. She couldn't help herself. Derek had always been kind of dorky - too thin and gangly, his hair curly and sticking up in every direction - but he'd filled out over the summer and learned how to make his hair work for him and Meredith had nearly dropped her bag when he'd come onto the train platform last week. She'd been sneaking glances for days. He was just... dreamy. As much as that word kind of made her cringe there was no other way to describe him.
“I think one of the guys was going to bring a wireless out into the courtyard,” Cristina offered, still distracted by her pilfering.
Callie reasoned, “It's not too cold yet. It could be fun.”
Meredith pushed her plate away from her with a sigh. “Cristina, are you even going to come?” Her friend played Seeker on her house team, as she did for Gryffindor, but had to be dragged to watch the other house teams play.
“I think the team would probably come,” Callie commented, taking her opportunity to get Cristina back for her comments about Arizona. She smirked in triumph when the Ravenclaw's eyes darted up to catch a glimpse of Gryffindor's male prefect, Quidditch Keeper, and team captain, Owen Hunt, his red head bowed in close conversation with his best friend Teddy Altman. Callie felt bad as soon as Cristina's gaze went distant and she wanted to apologize.
“I'll go anyway,” Cristina said archly, blinking and shaking it off. “Even if I do have to hang out with Gryffindor's meat heads.” She not so subtly jerked her head in Mark's direction. Meredith laughed and Callie barely contained hers.
“What?” Mark asked cluelessly.
“Are you going to listen to the game?” Callie asked him, unable to help smiling as she endeavored not to burst into laughter.
“Oh yeah!” He leaned in and lowered his voice. “I got some firewhiskey so it's going to be a party.”
Cristina perked up even as Meredith rolled her eyes. Her mother was the head of Gryffindor house, and one of the strictest professors in school, but her daughter and her friends didn't let that scare them away from a good time. “Where'd you get that from?”
He grinned. “You'll never know.”
“I'm in,” Cristina chimed in. “But I've got Defense in the morning, so I have to leave by midnight.” Nobody with any brains went to Professor Ellis Grey's Defense Against the Dark Arts class hungover. Cristina Yang was one of the best in their year. Her goal was to be better than many of the sixth and seventh years as well and she had the talent to do it, too.
“You can tell Mer's mom hey for us,” Mark joked, standing up from his seat. “We going to do this or what? Torres, you in?”
Multiple sets of eyes on her made Callie nod. “Whatever, let's go.”
Cristina leaned over as they were standing up. “I could give Robbins the message that you like her ass too, if you want,” she offered under her breath. She only smirked wickedly when Callie floundered at her for a long moment.
“Hey Hunt!” Cristina's shoulders went stiff when Mark raised his voice behind them to call down the table to their classmate. “You and Altman coming to listen to the game?”
Callie caught Cristina's eyes and the gaze was commiserating. “That guy's an ass,” Cristina muttered out of the side of her mouth, both of them smiling after a second. She leaned over the table again as Meredith hiked her bag over her shoulder, searching knowingly through her friend's book bag to retrieve a flask. Meredith gasped but their exit hadn't drawn any attention from the teacher's table and Cristina took a sip before passing the drink to Callie, their bodies shielding the actions from the front table.
They refilled Meredith's flask from Mark's bottle, and took the opportunity to top off Cristina's. The game was a blowout, as predicted, but no one had come out to hear the game, really, and the final whistle was not the end of the impromptu party. By nearly midnight Mark had some poor fourth year backed against a wall while Meredith glared from the other side of the courtyard. Her mixed feelings about her previously unknown half sister Lexie Grey apparently didn't extend to wanting the younger girl anywhere near her teammate. “Can't you keep a leash on him?” she asked Callie without blinking.
The Beater scoffed, rolling her eyes as she sipped her drink. “Yeah, right, Mer.” She followed her friend's gaze and bumped her arm with an elbow. “You know, you could just go over there and talk to her.” Meredith's gaze was pointed as it swung to her. Callie shrugged. “She's approached you how many times? Just go tell her to watch her back with Mark.”
“He's your partner!”
“She's your sister,” Callie countered with a smirk. “Half-sister, whatever,” she corrected herself before her friend could do it. “She wants to be your mini-me. If you tell her to keep her distance from Sloan she'll never even speak to him again, I bet.” Mark leaned on his arm over her head and gave Lexie Grey his best charming grin. Callie winced and shook her head, remembering the occasions her teammate had turned his dubious 'charms' on her. Unfortunately, Lexie looked flattered. “He does know she's thirteen, right?”
“She's fourteen,” Meredith corrected under her breath, ignoring her friend's eyebrow rising. So she'd looked up her sister, half-sister, so what? It wasn't a crime to be curious.
“I heard she skipped a year.”
“It was a few classes,” said Meredith shortly. She was her mother's daughter, but she'd heard that Lexie Grey was no slouch in the classroom. Of course, she wouldn't be, being in Ravenclaw. “Cristina, is she as smart as everybody says?”
Their friend snorted into her drink. “Oh, Little Grey's good.” Meredith's face twisted at the nickname. “I heard she knocked a guy out in dueling practice yesterday. Everyone in the common room was talking about it.” She drained her cup and incinerated it with a flick of her wand. “This place is dead. Later. Mer, I'll get your book back to you tomorrow. Callie, I'll tell Robbins you love her.” Callie's empty, crumpled cup hit her between the shoulders as she was leaving and she sent a wicked grin over her shoulder.
“So, what's the deal with you and her, anyway?” Meredith asked after a moment. “I mean, we play them, and -”
“I broke her nose last year in a game. And you don't cut Cristina any slack either,” countered Callie in a desperate attempt to get the focus off of her and her crush on Arizona Robbins.
“But I also don't want to get in her pants,” Meredith reminded her with a smirk. “But, Callie, I've seen how you look at Arizona when you think no one's watching.”
Callie sighed but didn't deny it. “You're saying it's a bad idea.”
“I'm saying she's a Slytherin.”
“Meredith, you know all that stuff is bull. She's not like that,” Callie protested.
“Her dad's a Gryffindor, and her brother! And what about that Karev she's always with? You know who his dad is. There's no way he's not -”
“They've never done anything to anybody!” snapped Callie shortly. “Neither one of them!” Her expression darkened. There were no Slytherins at the gathering, though she did see a few Hufflepuffs mingling with the Ravenclaws and Gryffindors.
It had been years since the war but there was still no trust between the houses, at least no trust for Slytherins. Alex Karev had been written off by his schoolmates on his first day, even by members of his own house. His only break had come from meeting Arizona Robbins on the train. His father's name was as well known as hers was but when he'd been shoved by a group of kids on their first ride to Hogwarts Arizona was the one to step up and stand beside him, the only one who'd given him a chance even after she'd learned his name.
“I'm getting out of here too,” Callie decided, suddenly frustrated with everyone around her. “I'll see you.”
“Callie,” Meredith started, sensing that she'd annoyed her friend. “I didn't mean - I just don't want to see you get hurt, you know?” Callie sighed but didn't respond. “Just be careful, okay?”
Meredith was just looking out for her, she knew that. It wasn't like she was going to be able to muster enough courage to ask Arizona out anyway. “Okay,” she sighed. She spotted Mark making his move across the grass and gestured. “If you want to give someone else a talk about bad dating choices here's your chance.” Meredith crossed the courtyard in a pair of seconds, muttering expletives under her breath.
Callie pulled her sleeves down from where they were rolled up as she walked into the breezeway and started back toward the heart of the castle. It was later than she'd meant to stay out tonight and there would be prefects walking the halls by now. She was close to the Gryffindor common room, little chance of being caught.
“Torres...” The voice from the dark corner was sarcastic and amused. Arizona stepped out with a smirk on her lips. “You have a nice night?”
Callie couldn't help smiling back, even if she was supposedly now in trouble. “Not too bad,” she answered, her own voice dry.
“Good walk?” asked Arizona, her hands tucked in the pocket of her robes. She was nearly done with her patrol, which was good because she'd never made it to the nurse and her side was aching. Catching Callie sneaking back in from the Gryffindor party was an unexpected surprise for her evening. She knew there was a party, knew that if she stepped any closer she'd probably be able to smell the firewhiskey on the other girl's breath. After everything today, the fight and having to work with Sloan in class, if it was anyone else she'd have been happy to bust a Gryffindor sneaking back in after hours. But it was Callie, the girl she'd had a stupid crush on for a year, with the seemingly endless dark hair and equally infinite dark eyes, giving her a smile she only saw infrequently when she caught the other girl's gaze across a classroom or the Great Hall.
Callie nodded, trying to get the goofy smile off her face. The drinks had loosened her up though. And she'd been thinking about Arizona while she'd walked, making it hard to wipe the expression from her mouth when she'd come across her in the dark. “How's Alex?” she asked without thinking. It was actually strange that they weren't together. Maybe they took turns or something. She was glad though, grateful for an opportunity to see Arizona somewhere outside of class or a social situation that inevitably turned awkward sooner rather than later. Working with Alex in Potions was the closest she'd come to one on one time with Arizona in ages, as pathetic as it sounded in her head.
Arizona's expression tightened, innate wariness pulling lines around her mouth. “He's okay,” she said slowly, unsure what Callie might say next. Her hand rose unconsciously to cover her own bruised ribs.
Callie's eyes caught the motion and frowned. “How are you?” She stepped closer, concern in her tone, in her eyes. “Mark's an asshole. I'm sorry.”
“You don't apologize for him,” Arizona stated flatly, more severe than she'd intended. Callie blinked and she shook her head quickly. “It wasn't - I just -” She just wasn't used to having to do anything but fight back and react. Apologies weren't something she was used to hearing. She had no interest in Callie apologizing for Mark Sloan, however. “You didn't do it.” She took a breath. “And he didn't do this,” she admitted honestly. “We were practicing in the dark and a bludger got me.”
“Arizona!” Callie's yelp of her name startled her and she could only stand in her spot as Callie was suddenly in her space, one hand reaching for her side. “Why didn't you go to the hospital wing? Can you breathe alright? Are you -?”
Callie smelled good. It was the only thought that could penetrate Arizona's suddenly cloudy mind. She didn't smell like whatever she'd been drinking, but like trees and wind, something light and earthy. It was nice, being this close to her.
“Oh-h-h,” Callie breathed as she recognized their proximity. “Sorry,” she apologized without removing her hand. Their eyes locked and Callie felt her breath come short.
“No problem,” Arizona promised, licking her lips and swallowing hard. Callie's gaze flicked to her mouth beyond her control. “I, um -” She exhaled and made herself lean away. “I'm okay.” She covered Callie's hand briefly before pulling it down off her side. Realizing how close they were standing both took a half step back.
“Oh, good. I'm glad you're okay,” Callie said genuinely. She smiled softly again, the same one that had appeared earlier, and Arizona felt her heart stutter. “I'm very glad I bumped into you too,” Callie continued, tone lighter, verging on flirty, and Arizona blinked, a smile starting to grow on her mouth.
Nodding her head, Arizona gestured in the direction of Gryffindor's common room. “Good night, Callie.” She wasn't sure what else to say. The unspoken direction to go straight there was answered with another nod. She was still a prefect and it wouldn't do to have someone else catching Callie outside of her house at this hour. Arizona resisted her impulse to follow her there but couldn't help a look over her shoulder, catching Callie's eyes for a moment before she turned the corner.
[part 2 here]