Closed Crossing a Line

Sydney Townsend

Amateur Duellist | Smarter Than You
 
Messages
830
OOC First Name
Kris
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Single (Not Looking)
Age
11/2036 (25)
Apparently hoping the break from school would give Sydney a chance to clear her head had been too optimistic. The entire holiday break had been lost to her sitting in her room, writing pages of garbage poetry and brooding. Emily had betrayed her in the worst way possible and Sydney was over it. She didn't want to waste another second thinking about her, and yet she couldn't get her out of her mind. It was pathetic and infuriating and Sydney knew it would only get worse now that she was back in the castle.

The SDA and duelling chamber were her own solace, since the library was now firmly off limits. Emily wouldn't come down here in a million years and Sydney could spend all the time she wanted to beating the practice dummies into submission since she was apparently unable to do the same with her own thoughts. "Deprimo!" She called, stepping back and shaking out her arm as the dummy fell to the floor with a satisfying thud, the hole the spell had blasted through its chest still smoldering slightly.
 
The problem with the holidays was that it left Lysander feeling rusty and unprepared for some of the more important events of the second term. Quidditch was tough to practice without a full team, and he couldn't really find himself a duelling partner outside of school without the risk of getting into trouble for it. A risk he was definitely willing to take, but finding someone else willing was what really threw a spanner in the works. He'd already been lax on his practice sparring, trying his best to avoid running into Juniper where he could, but now that school had started back up again, he knew he had to head down and try to brush up on his casting. The more he put it off, the harder it would be to knock her off her platform when it finally came down to the tournament.

Lysander had hoped to find the chamber empty, and was disappointed to see Sydney already there, blasting a dummy to bits. He winced. He couldn't have said he was all too surprised she was there, though it was debatable to say whether it was better to run into her, or her co-leader. Unlike most people, neither were his biggest fans. Not that he'd ever done anything wrong, of course. Was that the faintest scent of dungbomb in the air, or just his imagination? "What did the dummy do to you?" He asked. He was here now, and he'd stepped too far into the chamber to back out without it becoming noticeable, so he redoubled his courage and sidled up to one of the other, less-smoking dummies he could practice on.​
 
Sydney's shoulders tensed when she realized someone else was in the chamber, spinning with a snarl when she realized it was Lysander Summers. Wasn't it enough that she had to deal with him in prefect meetings and around the SDA, but he had to stick his smug face in here when Sydney was finally getting a chance to get her thoughts straight. "This space is reserved for people who actually have talent, not juvenile idiots who ride their parent's coattails to get anything done," she snapped at him, gesturing her wand at him in a vague warning. "I'm not in the mood for you today, so just. Get out," she added, turning away from him and righting the damaged dummy with a flippant swish of her wand so she could refocus on a different spell. Maybe if she blew its head off this time Lysander would get the picture that she wasn't to be trifled with.
 
Lysander visibly recoiled at Sydney's more animalistic greeting. Merlin, he could have been easily convinced she was part-troll sometimes, with how greasy and aggressive she was. He raised his hands defensively, taking a small step back. "Sheesh, easy." He scoffed, eyes narrowing at the mention of his father. Really? "Is that what you think? I'm just getting handouts from my parents?" He asked. Merlin, did no one think he could achieve anything on his own? It was starting to seem that way. "So, what, my dad is out here fighting my duels for me? What is your problem, Sydney?" He asked. When was she ever in the mood for him? Seriously, it was like something had crawled up her ass and died.​
 
"It's not what I think it's what I know," Sydney said, turning tightly on the spot to face Lysander again when it became clear he was too dense to take the hint. "Name one thing you've accomplished that you actually earnt," she said cooly, holding up a hand to start ticking things off. "Captain? Handout from Professor Kingsley because you were friends with her son. Prefect? As if they would have picked you if your dad didn't say something. Grades? Same thing. Face it, you haven't had to work hard for a thing in your life," she said, dropping her hand triumphantly.

It felt good to lay into him, like lancing a wound even if part of her knew it wasn't really Lysander she was angry at. Not that he didn't deserve it. Lysander walked around the school like he owned and Sydney figured it was about time someone gave him a reality check. "My problem is snotty kids like you thinking they run the world when they're talentless brats who throw stink bombs when they don't get their way," she sneered, pointing her wand in Lysander's direction again, though it was more for emphasis than a real threat. Not that she would hesitate if Lysander gave her a reason. Arguably he'd already done so plenty of times.
 
Lysander scowled at Sydney's comment. He'd accomplished a lot on his own. He hadn't needed any help. He raised his own hands to list things off, balking when Sydney started to list the exact same things. He winced. It was like she'd read his mind and picked apart every fear he had about what he'd achieved. No amount of reassurances truly quelled the voices at the back of his head, paranoid that it was true he'd been handed everything. He couldn't ever really be sure his dad wouldn't talk to the other professors, pull a few strings here and there. "You don't know what you're talking about!" He shouted back, voice betraying that, perhaps he didn't entirely believe it. "I've worked hard! Just as hard as anyone. It's not been easy for me. I'm not out here, getting a free ride on anyone's coattails. You have no idea how much work I've had to put in, if not more because my dad's a professor, since obviously I have to prove myself to shitty people like you. What about you, huh? Weren't you disqualified from half your duels? How did you get to be the president?" He spat back. He'd genuinely enjoyed the SDA before Sydney had, somehow, magically taken the reigns. It was beyond him how anyone as angry and vindictive as her could be put in charge. It only made sense that she'd gone and chosen Juniper to lead with her. They probably fed off of each other's negativity. Dementors, sucking the soul out of what was an enjoyable club. The SDA probably wouldn't have a decent leader again for a while if the cycle continued. "You must have cheated, right? Confundus charm? Imperius curse? What secrets are you hiding to be able to get something you don't deserve?" The grip on his wand tightened. He could find out exactly what made Sydney tick. All he had to do was take it, and he'd been practicing to do exactly that all year. It was deserved, and he was furious enough to try. So he did. The legilimency spell left his lips without a second thought, and he attempted to brute force his way through her mind, grasping clumsily for a thought to try and pry free to use against her. She'd asked for this.​
 
Sydney felt a vicious sense of satisfaction as she managed to strike a nerve with Lysander, making a point to roll her eyes derisively as he tried to defend himself. It felt good to needle at him and get under his skin and see someone uncomfortable with their own thoughts as she was, and Sydney latched onto the distraction eagerly. Blowing holes in Lysander's self-inflated ego seemed like a much better use of her time now than blowing holes in practice dummies. "You'd be nothing without everyone else bending over backwards to help you, you're so far gone you don't even realize how much they've helped you," she said, clicking her tongue in mock sympathy. Her lip curled though when Lysander flung the accusation back at her, aware Lysander was grasping at straws but still unable to ignore the bubble of rage at the implication. "Come back and say that when you're undefeated six years running," she snapped. "Oh wait, you can't, you've not won a tournament since you were twelve," she sneered.

Sydney reveled in her moment of superiority, enjoying seeing Lysander's pompous attitude start to unravel. Her smug grin held until she felt a foreign whisper brush against the back of her mind, shaking her head as if to dislodge it until it pressed harder and Sydney had to squeeze her eyes shut at the uncontrolled flood of memories that was shaken loose. Eric punching her during their match when she was 12, practices in the duelling chamber, and then more, unbidden, of Emily. Her hair in the sunlight filtering through the library windows as they read. Quiet moments kissing her after hours when it was just the two of them. The quiet, hot tears of rage in her dorm after they'd broken up, a Summer spent in her room, pining and lamenting and writing. All things she couldn't banish from her own thoughts suddenly dug up and splayed across the forefront of her own mind, and Sydney felt powerless to stop the parade of memories. She stumbled back, gasping as the intrusion entered, eyes wet and hands shaking as she looked over at Lysander, dread pooling in her stomach quickly turning to cold fury. "You- What. What did you just do," she spat, her stomach in knots at the realization that Lysander had just forced his way into her mind. Was he so entitled to everything that he thought he could just waltz into her mind without consequence as well. Sydney gripped her wand tightly, vision blurred with rage and tears as she pointed it at Lysander. "How dare you," she said, starting out in barely a whisper before her voice cracked as it rose in volume. She wanted to curse him into oblivion for this, mind scrambling for the best way to make him hurt, but all she could focus on was the sickening awareness of the pieces of her he'd been able to see and she quickly changed tracks, desperate to undo the damage he'd done. "Obliviate!"
 
The experience of delving into a mind was unsettling. The images rushed by Lysander, sweeping him up in a rapid current of watery images and muffled sounds, difficult to properly make out before they too were swept away. Some of the scenes he could recognise at a glance. Flashes of the dueling chamber felt familiar to him, though most were completely foreign. He almost flinched, the scene before him melting away, until he found himself suddenly on the receiving end of one of Eric's fists. The older boy was gone the next moment, replaced soon after by a girl Lysander had seen before, in a moment of tenderness. Lysander's stomach turned, the sensation feeling distant and disconnected. He hadn't thought this through. Just how private and intimate some of these memories would be hadn't crossed his mind in the moment. He'd just wanted something to use against Sydney, a way to get even. But there was no controlling what visions his mind was bombarded with. He didn't know how to navigate these waters. It swept him up, and he stumbled a few steps back, into his physical body. His head throbbed, and he pressed a hand to his temple, blinking to clear the images from his mind's eye.

For a moment, Lysander had forgotten Sydney was still in the room, physically present only a few steps away from him. Her voice, the tone, it sent a cold chill down his spine. He paled. She knew. This mind-reading thing was still so new to him. He'd been clumsy, he hadn't known how to be subtle about it. "I....I-" He stammered, trying to think up an excuse. He'd been so angry, but it had given way to genuine fear after seeing her reaction. Sydney looked like she could kill him, and he took a slow step backward. "I didn't know I'd see-" He continued uselessly. He had known he'd see something, it's what he'd wanted, and she had to know that. His eyes widened as she raised her wand and he attempted to raise his own, barely conjuring a shield before he found himself falling backwards, struck down. He hit the cold stone floor with a resounding crack, and his thoughts blanked.

It took a solid minute for Lysander to sit back up. Dazed, he clutched his head, the world spinning around him. He couldn't think. Couldn't recall how he'd ended up on the floor. He looked up to see a girl towering over him. No, not just a girl. That was Sydney, stood right next to a smoking training dummy. "Where...what happened?" He said slowly. Had he done that? Had a spell backfired? Had they been training together? He couldn't remember. He could barely string his own thoughts together.​
 

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