As I Was Saying...

[Preston Paine]

Leaning against the wall right across from the Great Hall, Preston waited patiently for the Ravenclaw prefect, Emalia Aria. He still didn’t really know who she was, but he was fairly certain he would be finding out more today. They were scheduled to patrol together and boredom, if nothing else, was usually enough to get Preston talking. Not that it took much. Preston had found that good conversation could make patrols seem faster while walking in silence could make them dreadfully long. It wasn’t difficult to see which one he’d choose. Realizing that he was fairly early, Preston strolled down the corridor a bit. He hated standing still, hated the feeling of pent up energy as it coursed through his body. Even though it was just the beginning of the semester, he was already feeling antsy as if he had so much to do and so little time to do it. It was partially true. As a seventh year, he didn’t have very many classes but the ones he did have were NEWT level and incredibly taxing.

As he neared the staircase, Preston glanced back to see if Emalia was there. She wasn’t. The only other person standing by the Great Hall was a tiny boy that made Preston wonder if he’d ever been that small. He didn’t think so. Doubling back, Preston narrowly missed being bumped into by two young girls. They narrowed their eyes at him as he passed and the seventh year boy couldn’t help but stick his tongue out at them. With a dark chuckle, he continued forward until he reached the doors to the Great Hall. Preston ducked inside where the house tables were generally empty. A few students sat around eating snacks or just gossiping, but the room was much, much emptier than it usually was. With a grin, Preston beelined for a plate of cookies that were being shared by several of his housemates. He knew one of them and was able to score a couple of cookies easily. Still smiling, he bit into the chewy cookie as he slowly made his way back up the aisle to see if Emalia had finally appeared outside the doors.

 

[Ferdinand Oakley]

Rarely did anyone assume Ferdinand would be surrounded by people in a near-deserted great hall, but it was a rare occasion in which anybody caught him doing so. It was the unexpectedness of the situation that he relied on, when gossiping about his fellow prefects and an even longer list of other students needed to be kept away from prying eyes and ears. But he was certain this group, this small clique he weeded into at the beginning of the year were confidential, and when the Ravenclaw had nothing better to do but gossip and fuel what he could only assume was the begging stages of a superiority complex, confidentiality was something he needed most. Today's subject of every other student in the school was the prestigiously known Preston Paine, Slytherin seventh year and prefect Ferdinand knew nothing of besides what he heard through the grapevine and witnessed in last year's prefect meeting. He let the others talk and attempted to listen to every negative word thrown around to gain an aspect of why the subject of Preston had been brought up from nowhere, but eventually found his attention wavering to the floor and later towards the entrance hall where his eyes landed on none other than Preston himself.

Instead of warning the group about Preston's arrival, Ferdinand chose to let the other prefect walk within earshot before standing up and welcoming the Slytherin as if he were an old friend and nothing had happened. "Preston! Speak of the devil!" Ferdinand's tone emanated nothing but a sense of pride in being part of a group that was trashing Preston's reputation moments ago. He continued speaking in pride, assuming the groups hushed whispers were audible enough for the other prefect to know exactly who the subject of conversation was. Even if the name 'Preston' had not been uttered explicitly, the words denouncing blood status and betrayal (or whatever on earth the others were saying, Ferdinand wasn't paying enough attention) should have been enough for the other prefect to at least notice the nature of their conversation. "We were just talking about you. Want to join us?" A smug look appeared on Ferdinand's features as he eagerly watched Preston for a reaction. A frown, a raised eyebrow, anything would have been enough to satisfy Ferdinand's need to take his peer down a peg and watch them be thrown in the deep end with complete uncertainty of what to do. ​

 

[Preston Paine]

Preston was pretty happy minding his own business as he walked down the row that the tables made. He spotted a group a little ahead of him, seated at a table talking about something. The Slytherin would have been content to keep on going towards his destination just outside of the doors, and he would have, had he not heard certain key words the led him to believe that the conversation was about him.
Preston looked down at his shirt, brushing off some cookie crumbs as he drew closer to the group and heard them calling him a mudblood. The boy scowled, but he kept his gaze down. This year, Preston had come to school determined to stay out of trouble. Last year, he’d started off the year in huge trouble with his Head of House, trouble that had lasted him an entire semester as Professor Styx had forced him to be wandless outside of class time. It had been miserable, and seeing as this was Preston’s final year, he really didn’t want to have to go through that once more. And, he had the feeling that if he did get in trouble again, Professor Styx would come down on him even harder than he had last year.

The Slytherin’s gaze shot up as he heard his name called. It was by the editor of the school paper and a fellow prefect, Ferdinand. He and Preston were not friends, so there was obvious shock in the teen’s eyes especially once he confirmed that the group had indeed been talking about him. Preston nearly kept on walking, but stopped as the guy continued. His eyes glanced down at the group of guys and girls who had been sitting around talking about him. Some of them at least had the decency to look embarrassed that they’d been outed. A few turned defiant eyes his way as if they dared him to do something about it. Preston’s eyes narrowed once the guy had finished. He didn’t know anyone who thought to invite the person they’d been talking about over to join the gossip, and he definitely didn’t know anyone who would want to join. “Dude, are you serious? Why would I want to do that?” he asked, his gaze returning to the Ravenclaw prefect.

 

[Ferdinand Oakley]

Being from a family whose tree had a majority of muggles meant Ferdinand was familiar with the term mudblood. He had heard it uttered many times and sporadically in his direction, but would never in his life use such a term to insult another wizard. He could unfortunately not say the same for his little group of friends that took any excuse to use it on an almost daily basis to put other wizards down a peg. Nevertheless, Ferdinand noticed the word struck some kind of a chord in the other prefect and although he would never dream to call Preston a mudblood with his own tongue he had no problem putting his friend's usage of it in the spotlight. When Preston questioned Ferdinand's invitation to join them he didn't hesitate to answer for a second as he gestured to the group that had effectively gone silent since he stood up. "Because my friends obviously have an issue with you." He began in simple terms and continued to elaborate. While both of them were prefects, Ferdinand's mind was completely blank to what Preston was like and failed to observe how intelligent could have been. "They've been talking about you all day, and they're obviously not saying good things." He was stating the obvious and anyone could tell the other prefect overheard a few words enough to understand the nature and negative light this group had put him in.

"Why not be diplomatic? Show your maturity and high status as a prefect and set the record straight?" His tone was condescending and in a way it dared the other prefect to join them. Because although Ferdinand had no quarrels with Preston and even now remained indifferent towards the Slytherin, this situation was far too interesting to pass up. Nobody in their right mind would deny such a strong temptation to cause drama, especially when Preston had walked right into the line of fire when he overheard the gossip that was undeniably about him. "Or you could show them how amazing muggles are, and tell them all about the technology. I'm sure we both know they're completely ignorant about it." Ferdinand was so caught up in what Preston might do or say he had even begun to insult the group he was happily associated with moments ago. He might have been going overboard in his efforts to convince the other prefect to join them but he hardly cared. Starting drama was the only thing he desired right now and he'd be dammed if his attempts failed.​

 

[Preston Paine]

Preston knew that people spoke about him and that not all of the things that they said were good things. That had been the case since the fight between him and Sergei, and it continued to persist despite their reconciliation. With narrowed eyes, he gazed up the group, spotting some familiar faces. Some of these were people that he disliked as much as they disliked him. And others were people that he had only some vague knowledge of. He had no idea what their problem was with him. As Ferdinand stated that they’d been at it all day, Preston raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised that something about him was enough to warrant discussing all day long. “Obviously not” he replied in a dry tone. He’d at least heard them call him a ‘mudblood’ practically to his face. Who knew what the hell else they’d said.

The Slytherin knew that he should be smart enough to simply walk away. It was clear that Ferdinand was trying to stir something up, though Preston couldn’t easily see what his end game was. He was hitting all of the right buttons though, making Preston feel trapped. If he took the high road and walked away, he’d be considered a coward. If he stayed, he’d likely get himself into huge trouble. Still, Preston couldn’t help but smirk as Ferdinand insulted the group where they sat. It was clear that Ferdinand really didn’t care what he said and who he said it to. Preston didn’t know if that made him trust Ferdinand more or less. Crossing his arms across his chest, Preston took a step closer to the group. “I don’t have anything to prove to these people. They aren’t really worth my time” Preston added, eyeing a few that he particularly disliked.

 

[Ferdinand Oakley]

Ferdinand smirked as Preston spoke, choosing to let him say his part before stepping in with interruption. He figured it would be best to attempt to listen to the Slytherin's words before ignoring them completely. Surely that was a better plan to get Preston to lash out and cause drama so Ferdinand wouldn't have to play instigator long enough to be caught. No, he would never dream of getting in trouble himself but the thought of getting fellow students into the red zone with professors was enough to keep him fixed in his spot a little longer. "But you do have something to prove. Don't you?" His tactic was to ask rhetorical questions, while holding onto optimism that Preston would second guess his own decisions in this moment. Whichever outcome this conversation could have was irrelevant, pointless unless Preston chose to comply to Ferdinand's wishes so he could further enjoy watching everyone's reactions. It was priceless even though the Ravenclaw had a little more trouble reading Preston than he cared to admit.

"What they're saying could easily be believable if you don't change their minds about it." Ferdinand continued, choosing not to quote any words that had been thrown back and forth before Preston's arrival, because he assumed leaving the insults to the other prefect's imagination would affect him more. If the tables were turned, Ferdinand would be over-thinking himself into a rut without knowing an exact depiction of what had been said. The stress could easily drive him insane. While he still knew nothing about Preston he healthily assumed the he would react similarly to a degree no matter how insignificant of a degree that might have been. "Aren't you worried they could start more rumors?" Ferdinand held his arms behind his back and began to roll back and forward on his feet a little too casually as he spoke. In a situation that could easily end up in a fight, he knew he should refrain from feeling so content though he could hardly help it when everything seemed to be going his way.

today is not a good day for posts, i'm sorry!​