Open Leaving a Mark

Eric Holland

💥2055 Grad | Angry | Fighter | Medley Bouncer💥
 
Messages
800
OOC First Name
Daphne
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Seeing Somebody
Sexual Orientation
Straight (Minnie)
Wand
Vine Wand 12 3/4" Dragon Heartstring Core
Age
10/2036 (23)
Open after Jesse posts with Lysander

Eric was bored, which was nothing new. He had taken to wandering around the grounds, with the weather still alright outside. Today he found himself near the Quidditch pitch, a place he hardly ever visited. He went to the matches, but only sometimes. But outside of watching his brother play, Eric had very little interest in the game. Though it occurred to him that perhaps Minnie was there, doing captain-y things, and before he knew what he was doing, he walked onto the pitch to see if anyone was there. It was deserted, which was both disappointing and a bit of a relief, now that he thought about it more. Most of the people he disliked tended to play Quidditch, and he hadn't wanted to run into Noel and Sully. Thinking about Noel made him remember their last encounter at the student lounge, when he had tried to get under the other boy's skin. It had been surprisingly easy. Remembering how he'd carved things into the wooden table until Noel took points from him, gave him a new idea. Eric grabbed his pocket knife and headed over to the stands, stopping at once of the wooden beams holding them up. He figured no one would really believe Noel would do something like this, but it would be funny if he got into trouble. Eric got started, carving a 'N' into the wood to get started on Noel's name.
 
Sierra was gone, which left Lysander having to train extra hard, and put in extra effort to have any hope of winning Quidditch without her. It was going to be a tough time, and as much as he tried to tell himself otherwise, he knew it was true. He’d had a good feeling about this year, about finally taking down Slytherin, but that good feeling had long since dwindled, and he was left with only uncertainty. This was not how he had pictured his first year as co-captain. No, just captain now. It was taking some getting used to. He would have loved the solo title if the circumstances had been different, but he hadn’t been picked because he was trusted to do it on his own. He sighed, trudging down to the pitch, his bat bumping against his shoulder as he walked. All he needed to do was be good enough to take out the opposing seeker, and any alternates they had, and they’d be fine. Simple. Totally easy. Nothing to worry about. Flynn was good, but he was still fresh, and Lysander didn’t think he could put all his faith into winning through a snitch catch alone. Not compared to the more experienced seekers they were up against. Lysander’s feet met the pitch’s field, and he paused in his tracks, realising he wasn’t the only one there. He watched a figure doing something shifty to one of the wooden support beams for a few seconds before deciding to call out. ”Hey! What are you up to?” He asked, trudging closer to get a better look. People didn’t come to the pitch to fiddle with the stands, in his experience.​
 
Eric hadn't noticed someone had joined him on the pitch until he heard a voice. Annoyed, Eric turned his head to see Lysander Summers coming his way. He rolled his eyes, then turned back to his work and continued carving, moving on to the 'o'. "Why?" He asked without looking up. "Do you want details before you run off and tattle to your dad?" He asked, glancing at him now with a raised eyebrow. "It's none of your business, kid." He added, though he doubted Lysander would just leave this alone, simply from what he knew about the boy who seemed to always stick his nose everywhere and be involved in everything.
 
Lysander's approach faltered as he realised who it was. Eric Holland. Punch first and ask questions later Holland. He groaned inwardly. What was he doing here? Nothing good, it looked like. Eric seemed to ruin everything he was involved in. Lysander folded his arms, scowling at the other boys comments. "What if I do?" He asked hotly. He wasn't about to go running to his father, yet it kind of annoyed him that Eric didn't seem remotely bothered about it at all. "Maybe it is my business. And I'm not a kid. I'm the house captain, and you don't even play Quidditch." He said, with as much authority to his voice as he could muster in the hopes it would scare Eric off. He shuffled on his feet, trying to get a better look at what was being done to the posts. It looked like a carving, and he couldn't guess as to what Eric was trying to say "no" to. Everything, probably.​
 
Eric laughed at Lysander, rolling his eyes. "Then I say go get him, I'm not afraid to get in trouble." He said with a shrug. He then continued carving, only more motivated with Lysander there. He laughed again when the boy reminded him he's a house captain and that he didn't play Quidditch. "Yeah, I don't." Eric said. "So you being captain doesn't matter to me in the slightest." He glanced at him sideways. "You really think that makes you better than me, don't you?" He asked him, a bit of bitterness creeping into his voice. "Or is the superiority complex simply from your professor dad?" He asked, working on the next letter, carving a big 'E'. "Or is it just a requirement of being a Quidditch player?" He added. "Not everyone cares about your dumb sport."
 
Usually the professor card worked. Not against Eric, who no doubt lived in detention. Lysander crossed his arms and straightened his back to seem more imposing. "No, I'm better than you because I'm not an assh*le to everyone, Eric." He snapped back. "If you don't care about the dumb sport, then get the hell off the pitch. Why don't you go bully some little kids, or whatever it is you do as a hobby, since you obviously can't play Quidditch." Lysander didn't really care too much about anyone defacing the stands, it wasn't like it was that big a deal, but he was fed up with Eric, and now that he was captain, it felt like a personal affront, somehow. More so when he squinted at the letters, and had a guess at where he might have been going with it.​
 
Eric frowned when Lysander said he was an assh*le, that was language he hadn't expected from Gryffindor's golden boy. "I'm on the pitch because I have business to attend to." He said, starting on the 'L' of Noel's name. "And if you think Quidditch is the only hobby you can have your life must be very sad." He said with a snort. "Good thing you have connections at school, huh? As that's probably the only reason you made captain." He cut into the wood without looking at him. "Must be nice that you can actually feel special for a few years until you graduate and realize it doesn't matter." He said with a shrug. "And until you realize you're only popular at school because people are scared of your dad."
 
"I don't- That's not what I said!" Lysander stuttered, frustrated that Eric had completely twisted his words. "What's that supposed to mean? I was made captain fair and square! I don't need anyone's help." He blustered. It had nothing to do with him being a professor's kid. Had it? He knew he was treated a bit differently because his dad was a professor, but when it came to Quidditch he didn't want to think about the possibility of his dad having a hand in it, or the fact the former captain had also been a professor's kid. Surely he'd gotten it with his own merit. "No one's scared of my dad. He doesn't have anything to do with it. Like you can even talk. Aren't you related to the Minister?" He asked. "Is that why you haven't been expelled yet? Explains why you can get away with attacking people in front of headteachers and not get kicked out." He argued. It made sense. Maybe that was why he was such a jerk - he knew he could get away with it. The Minister could probably send anyone who expelled him to Azkaban or something.​
 
Eric laughed at Lysander, glad he was spluttering a bit. He was easier to bait than Eric had imagined. "Yes it was." He taunted. "And are you sure? How many fourth year captains do you see on other teams?" He asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. "I bet the older people on the team hate it but are too afraid to say so." He added as an after thought, even if he had no idea if that was true. It was just fun to poke and prod at things to see how the other boy reacted. But then Lysander brought up Eric's family, and he immediately felt himself get angry. "That is different." He snapped at Lysander, annoyed to be linked to the stupid minister. It almost made him wish he had his stupid father's last name, almost. "Believe it or not, no one gets expelled for fighting a few times." At least, Eric hadn't, worst schools had done was threaten with supsension. "The Minister is nothing to me. I don't give a sh*t about her or her stupid kids. They're not my family. As far as I'm concerned my only family is my mother and my brother." He said, angrily finishing off the 'L' in the wood and stepping back to admire his work.
 
Lysander bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from yelling, furious that Eric would suggest the team didn't like him. He'd been on the team the longest. He was related to a Quidditch player, who ran her own flying school. Surely no one on the team had an issue with him being captain. They were his friends. Someone would have said something, now that Sierra had stepped down. Anyone could have offered to be the new co-captain, but they didn't. He clung to that thought for reassurance, and felt his anger dwindle as Eric fired up himself. That felt good, knowing he'd found a sore spot. Being a professors kid was nothing compared to being the Ministers whatever. "Yeah okay. That's what I'd say if I was related to the Minister and got special privileges all the time." He taunted, reaching for the wand in his pocket. He glared at Eric, tempted to hex him, but waved it towards the graffiti instead. "Reparo." He muttered in an attempt to fix the damage done. He'd never been very good at repairing the things he broke, and it showed as the wood mostly slotted back into place to leave some weird scattered dents instead. His wand wavered for a moment and then moved slightly, almost against his will, but once it was pointed at Eric he couldn't help himself. "Supercilio." He incanted through a fake cough, covering his mouth with his other hand, as if it were a total accident.​
 
It was frustrating Eric to no end, that Lysander was just throwing around that he was related to the minister. Especially because he had no idea about his family history or if he even knew the woman. "I never even met her until a few years ago." He snapped. "And I want nothing to do with that part of my family. Shut up!" He said, restraining himself from shoving the Gryffindor, but only barely. He scowled as Lysander repaired his hard work. "Good luck finding the others." He muttered, already considering carving Lysander's name a few places too. Too bad it was such a long name, it'd be a pain. But then the boy muttered something that sounded like a curse under his breath, his wand pointed at Eric. Eric frowned, not feeling anything at first. Then he realized he felt a weird sensation above his eyes. His hand flew up to feel at his eyebrows, which were growing, fast. He hadn't ever heard of a spel like this, but was sure it was some lame prank jinx. He snarled and lunged at Lysander, dropping the knife on the ground first.
 
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The grin that spread across Lysander's face when the spell worked was too big to even try to contain. The spell was brilliant, and he was sure Sully would approve of its use. Eric had what was coming to him. He lowered his wand, stuffing it back into his pocket, but almost immediately regretted putting it away when Eric charged towards him. He wheeled around and legged it away from the pitch and across the lawn as quickly as he could, laughing the entire time.​
 

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