A Tale of Three Slytherins

Jaskai Tuuri

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OOC First Name
Raze
It was a peaceful afternoon at Hogwarts New Zealand. Or at least, it used to be. Hurried footsteps echoed around the corridor as a golden haired boy rounded the corner with a mischievous grin on his face. He was clutching a roll of parchment to his chest, as if it was the single most important thing to him at the moment. He could hear his cousin shouting something from somewhere behind him, but he couldn't bother himself to stop and wait for the shorter boy, not when he was trying to run away from him. "Catch me if you can!" He shouted back, immediately regretting it after realizing that he had just revealed his position to his cousin. While Jaskai liked his cousin to the moon and back, Evander Tuuri's wrath was a terrible thing to behold, especially when Jaskai may or may not have stolen his Potion essay. That's it. He didn't really care whether he gets caught or not, but not right now. Not this quick. He merely wanted to have fun, and that fun will end should his cousin get his stupid potion essay back. "You're not getting it back!" He added as he grasped the door to the abandoned classroom and heaved it open, flinging himself into it too hard that he went crashing into a table, barely able to grab hold of a bottle of ink on top of it before it tumbled onto the floor.

"Well that was close," he shrugged, picking up the opened bottle of ink, too caught up with his cousin that he didn't bother to apologize to its owner or even notice the other occupants of the room. He quickly turned around and closed the door, hopefully, his cousin didn't see him. It was all Evander's fault. He should be paying attention to him, not the stupid essay, if he did, then Jaskai probably wouldn't have stolen it. Probably. "Aha!" He exclaimed, pointing at the door, "I told you you wont-" he was unable to finish his statement as the door to his hiding spot flung open and his cousin tackled him into the ground, effectively showering him, his cousin, and probably someone else who was in close proximity, with the ink that he had been holding. He chuckled as he pointed at his cousin's expression before he lifted up his other hand to give his cousin his essay back. "Okay, okay, here's your... oops?" The parchment was crumpled and as he opened it, he found the writings to be barely readable as like them, it had also been sprayed with ink. "That wasn't supposed to happen. Sorry?" He had a sheepish grin on his face. Hopefully, Evander would find the situation to be as funny as he did. He, after all, was just trying to have fun.​
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Evander quickly ran around the corner, swiping for his slightly taller cousin, but he still managed to miss. He had been chasing his cousin all through the corridors of Hogwarts New Zealand, and he was surprised that they had not been stopped by a professor yet. He was trying to be quiet and not scream the caslte down at his cousin, but it was difficult. He had worked for three hours on that stupid essay, and he wanted nothing to happen to it. If Jaskai held it for much longer, he was worried that it would get ruined. There was a reason Evander was pretty much failing everything, and it was not simply because he happened to be lazy. His cousin, whom he was close to, was rather against him doing anything that did not involve him in some form - and Jaskai just wasn't down for a group essay writing competition. "You better keep running!" Evander called back, somehow finding himself to be smiling. Why on Earth was he smiling? This was bad, because he knew that Jaskai would do something that would cause harm to come to his essay, he just knew it. He had a gut feeling that Jaskai would do something to ruin it, like throw it in a fire or something just to spite him.

He swiped for his cousin, but missed once more. "Oh yes I am," he called back, feeling his lungs slamming against his ribcage as he made them expand. This running was going to kill him. He paused for a moment to catch his breath. He had a stich, and he clutched it, feeling like he was about to die. "Must... kill... Kai," he panted to himself, still dragging his feet along the floor. He found his cousin's hiding stop in the Abandoned Classroom, and with a new burst of energy, ran at him and tackled him to the floor. He didn't stop when he felt himself covered with ink until a little later, when his brain finally realised what had showered upon him. He stared at Jaskai as he chuckled, and Evander too began laughing at the scene they must have caused. He crawled off of his cousin, but his face dropped when he saw the state of his essay. With his mouth hung open, he delicately held the parchment, only for a large chunk of it to fall between his little shoes with a splat as it hit the floor. The rest soon disintegrated into a mushy mess on the floor, and he slowly dragged his eyes up Jaskai's body, until he met his eyes.

"You owe me an essay," he stated calmly, not wanting to get angry at his cousin for what he knew to be an accident. Had it been anyone else, however, he doubted he would have been able to be so forgiving. "You promise."
 
With her studies piling up over the weeks and her courses becoming increasingly more difficult with each passing lesson, Esme Lancaster had decided to retreat to the confines of an abandoned classroom in an attempt to complete them without interruption. It hadn't been her first choice of location, naturally the library had been the initial place she'd ventured, but the book-filled room was already currently occupied with a sobbing Hufflepuff boy who clearly didn't understand the rules of silence within such a place. Besides, she figured she'd rather be alone than in the presence of potentially impure students, no matter how quiet they were. She'd only associated with a muggle-born once, when she'd first started at the school, and that had earned her a not-so gentle slap in the face when her mother had found out. She wouldn't be so kind next time. So, it was best she avoid a repeat.

Approaching the door to the classroom, the Slytherin gave two quick glances to either side of the corridor. Empty. Good, she couldn't have anyone bothering her. Jakobe in particular had a tendency to pop up out of nowhere. Her palm pressed against the door's chipped surface and she gave it a push, the old wood creaking as it slowly opened, its bolts rusted and uncared for. As the gap widened just enough for her frame, she slipped into the room and let the door close behind her. She took a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dimly-lit room. Once they had, it came as a little surprise to see that rather than simply being filled with dusty desks and chairs, it was also littered with popped balloon skins and leftover bits and pieces from what looked to be a party. Right, of course. One of the new students tried to throw a party for all the first years. Esme had seen the note posted on a bulletin board and had been tempted to crash it, but decided it wasn't worth her time, or the potential loss of house points. Sighing, she kicked away a crumpled up streamer and dumped her bag across a chair, taking one next to it for herself. The witch withdrew her writing utensils, parchment, ink and a quill, and got to work. Most of it was Divination, which would no doubt be a breeze. After all, the lessons mainly consisted of drinking tea, eating baked goods and a small bit of fortune telling. Easiest Outstanding grades she'd ever received.

Her essays had been surprisingly stressful, but two full rolls of parchment later, and the silence Esme had been enjoying so much was interrupted by the increasingly loud sound of footsteps echoing throughout the corridor, followed by shouting. Great. The Slytherin thought with a roll of her eyes, absently tapping the nib of her quill against its inkpot in irritation. Of course some dumb kids would pick this floor to run around on. She hoped they'd simply pass through and find somewhere else to be a nuisance. Of course, her hopes were dashed as the voice came again, this time right outside the door she was sitting by. No. Don't you dare- Her eyes snapped up from her page just as the door handle turned. It was too late. A boy, a tiny one at that, burst into the room and ran straight into her desk. The witch panicked as she saw her ink pot go to take a tumble, only to be stopped by the midget at the last second. Still, he seemed to pay no notice of her, nor did he bother to apologise. Stupid child. Brows furrowed in annoyance, Esme glowered at him and opened her mouth to speak, only for another smaller boy to charge in and tackle the first. The ink went flying, splotches of the dark liquid coating the three of them. Esme sat there, mouth open in stunned silence. Spots of ink coated her parchment, her clothes and skin, even her hair. Nothing had been spared. They were going to pay.

She wasn't sure how it had happened, but suddenly her wand was in her hand, her knuckles white from the vice-like grip she held it with. The witch got to her feet and kicked the chair she was sitting on with no ounce of care, the wooden seat scraping loudly against the floor for a brief moment before all four of its legs left the ground as it was hurtled at the back wall. Eyes burning with fury, she raised herself to her full height, towering over the small boys, her body casting a tall shadow against their tiny frames. The hawthorn wand in her hand crackled with energy, fiery sparks spitting dangerously from its tip. "How dare you." She said, voice cold and barely more than a whisper. "Idiots. Loathsome fools. Filthy half-breeds." Her voice was raised with each word. There was no way any normal human could be that short in height. The longer she looked at them, the more disgusted she became. With each passing second she seemed to find a reason to hate the little creatures. Her hand moved ever so slightly, and the now empty ink pot shattered where it lay. She hadn't intended for it to do so, but when it came to high levels of emotion, magic could run wild. It was something she'd learned at Ollivanders. But that knowledge was tucked at the far corners of her mind for the moment. Her head was clouded with anger, which she had focused toward these two little brats. It took a great deal of effort not to set their clothes alight. No one crossed Lancaster.

I'm sorry I just kind of kept writing.
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The wrath of Evander Tuuri was not something that Jaskai wanted to witness, while his cousin was shorter than he was, years of living with his family had taught him never to underestimate any of his family members, no matter how shorter they were than him. Besides, while fighting could be fun at times, as it sometimes end up with them competing, he knew that should this situation end up in one, with Evander being fueled with irritation, he would lose and Merlin was he in no mood to lose right now. He thanked all the spirits and gods that he knew as his dreaded reaction did not come, although the alternative wasn't that better. No, anything but that. He hadn't even started with his essay, which, he knew he would regret later. But Jaskai was not someone who worries about things that were yet to come; he would deal with those things later.

"No promises, I-" Yet again, the Slytherin was unable to finish his statement as the sound of something hitting a wall distracted him. His cousin's essay forgotten, he turned around, his eyes searching for the cause of the noise. His lips curled into a grin as he found what he was looking for. Someone needs to take anger management classes, or maybe someone just loves to throw around chairs. He supposed it could be fun too, who was he to judge someone else's hobby? The third year Slytherin was about to point his observation to his cousin when he finally noticed the other person occupying the room. If it wasn't for her speaking and her practically towering over them, he wouldn't have noticed her. He had to tilt his head up to look at her, how could someone be so tall? Oh right, normal folks. The insults thrown their way had gone unnoticed to the smaller boy. Half-breeds? She could be more creative than that. Even Kaisa, who was the most uncreative person he had ever met, could come up with something more insulting. Or perhaps it was because he had heard the same insult far too many times already that he had grown too used to it. He wasn't even insulted anymore, nor was he in any way offended. In fact, he found the way that her voice raised with each word she uttered to be quite amusing. Could she get any louder?

"Do we know you?" He asked, crossing his arms in a way that communicated that he wasn't too pleased with her interrupting his conversation with his beloved cousin. The sound of glass shattering cut through the air and his eyes fell on the girl's wand. Was she going to hex them? What did they ever do to her anyway? They were just playing around, it was she who suddenly decided to join in their conversation and insult them. A frown made its way to the smaller boy's face. He didn't know why she was acting like an obnoxious fool. He didn't know her. She wasn't the one who ran around to escape Evander, she wasn't the one whose essay had been ruined, and she wasn't the one who had been tackled into the ground. Merlin she wasn't even the one who had been unfortunately coated with ink. Except that she was. His eyes widened a fraction as realization hit him, his mouth forming a small 'o' as he finally took the time to really look at the taller girl. She WAS covered in ink like they were. So that's why. He leaned towards his cousin, finally realizing the danger that he had dragged his cousin in. "Hey Evander, I think we unleashed something horrible. What do we do?" He whispered, except that with his naturally loud voice, it didn't sound like a whisper at all.
 
He hated being called a half-breed. While the term had been used against him, and his mother several times, it never seemed to make the insult hurt less. His mother repeatedly told him that it was okay, and that stupid people could go about being stupid. They were probably what people liked to call 'purebloods', and he would much rather be as he was now, with a loving family, than be like that with a slightly more close family. He eyed the blonde girl, and decided that she was probably older. It was difficult to tell because some first years looked really old, or maybe it was the fact that he often caught himself having to look up their nostrils. His fists flexed momentarily, but seeing as Jaskai somehow managed to keep his cool, Evander decided to do the same, and decided to tell her what his grandfather used to say to him. "Guess you're a pureblood," he said, forcing a sweet smile onto his face. "We're not half-breeds. That's our grandfather. No, we're smidgen-breeds - we're only one-eighth goblin, the rest of us is just like you. Except, while we're a close family." He put his around around his slightly bigger cousin's hip as a sign of solidarity. "We're not as close as.... well, your kind. Get out of the Middle Ages." The Slytherin was not against insulted others on their heritage if his was questioned - especially someone as up themselves as he assumed this girl was. While he would probably never know for sure (unless she stated it - but even then she could be lying) that she was a pureblood, her words caused him to make assumptions, and they were not positive assumptions.

Evander stood in silence as her temper flared, and Jaskai continued to poke the sleeping dragon. He assumed that she was upset at being covered in ink, and that was fair enough, though she didn't have to be such a butthead. She even had her wand out, for Merlin's sake. And then Jaskai went and woke the dragon up, seeing as Evander highly doubted that she would have missed what he had said. His hearing was impressive, but he doubted that she was deaf. He removed his arm from his cousin, and tried really hard to keep loving him. Jaskai was Jaskai, it wasn't like he'd changed. "Well, firstly, we try not to insult it," he glanced at her, knowing that he'd just insulted her blood, and Jaskai had insulted her whole being. The ship had sailed and sunk. He looked at her wand, and came to a decision. "She has her wand out. Two parts make a whole, right?" He recovered his own wand from his sleeve. "We're sorry for the ink. Just get someone to tergeo it off." That's what his mother used to always have to do whenever he dropped something on himself.
 

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