Square Go Like

[Rory Fergusson]

Rory had been trying to figure out who had dumped the red paint on him the year before. He hadn't come any closer to an answer, but he figured it was probably related to that last rose which he had gotten that had been less than friendly. Well, it hadn't been that bad, certainly not as bad as he had thought someone could've been towards him. He was sitting out on the courtyard, with nothing better to do with his time than to sit looking after his broom. He was cleaning it up, tending to it how he was supposed to and the nice day out had drawn him to somewhere other than the dungeons. The place of darkness was useful in ensuring he didn't have to interact with anyone really, but he liked venturing out of it, and enjoying the rest of what the school had to offer. The boy was perfectly content with himself as he cleaned the broom, he wanted to find out who it had been, and he began listing off all the people who disliked him when he spotted one of them, "Oi, Tristan, hows it going pal? Ye get fired yet? It would serve ye right," Rory called out mockingly, truly hoping to a get a rise out of the boy since it was so much fun.
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[Tristan Collins]

Tristan felt like he was on top of the world. Valentine's day had been wonderful, as he had received five roses of which only two were yellow. From what he had seen and heard by asking around, that was more than anyone else he knew. Of course, it wasn't a competition. But it sort of was. Jessica was sweet, but he was getting kind of tired of her, so for now he tried to get closer to October, a pretty girl in his year. It was slow-going, but he was sure he was making progress. Though he also wondered if he could find a boy to take on a date to one of the events at school, just to see how that would feel.

As he was crossing the courtyard, one boy called out to him that he definitely wouldn't want to take to a dance. He sighed, stopped, and turned to look at Rory Fergusson. He raised his eyebrow at him. "I was doing fine before you decided to talk to me, and I still have my job. Thanks for your concern." Rory seemed to be cleaning his broomstick, and Tristan wondered what had possessed him to talk to him. It couldn't be anything good.

 

[Rory Fergusson]

Rory stood up, putting down the broom and walking over to him. He had a smirk on his face, "Ah guess that's all down tae me no grassing ye up," he retorted, he knew he never would've been able to get him fired, despite how friendly he could be with her colleague or how his sister had been working with the owner. He didn't think he could've but he also might've been able to and Tristan didn't know that at all. The boy smirked at him, feeling genuinely superior than the other boy, more than how he did normally. He decided to ask about the rose, "By any chance wis it ye that sent me the rose about bein' a selfish prick?" Rory asked, "Would be interestin' fae ye tae dae that, considerin' that I hold mare cards than ye ever will?" The boy kept his smirk on his face, though his tone was beginning to verge upon threatening. He didn't really want to get in a fight with someone, since he was trying his best to be on his best behaviour. Just because he knew that Professor Styx would shout at him a lot, and have that annoying tone. But, he needed to know who it was from, simply to just tell them how wrong they were about it, and he wouldn't stop himself from doing something he would regret to this boy if it really was him who'd done it.
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[Tristan Collins]

Tristan felt wary as Rory headed his way, he knew whatever reasons he had for approaching him or even talking to him couldn't be good. At least it was unlikely to turn into a duel in the courtyard, though Tristan would love nothing better than to curse that smug smirk on his face. He didn't respond to Rory's comments about his job. He was sure that even without him, he wouldn't have been fired for dropping an ink bottle. Especially given how easy it was to clean it up with magic. When he asked about the rose, Tristan raised his eyebrow, and smirked. "No, it wasn't me." He said. "I know that must break your little heart, but I'm not the type to send roses to a boy that's not my type. I wish I knew who did, though, I would like to shake their hand." he wasn't sure if the Slytherin would believe him, but it was the truth. Tristan had only sent two roses, and both had been pink. Rory wasn't bad to look at, but Tristan would never send him a pink rose. "I'm sure the list of enemies you have is very long, but I'm oh so flattered you think of me first." He teased. " But I have my own ways of getting revenge, and they don't involve anyone else delivering it for me." Tristan knew he should stop now, and he did. Rory didn't know he and Jerara had covered him in paint last year, and while it would be wonderful for him to know a couple of mudbloods had done that to him, Tristan would put himself at risk by revealing it. It was very tempting, though.

 

[Rory Fergusson]

Rory looked at the other boy, somewhat happy it wasn’t him who’d sent him the rose. But he smirked at him anyway, especially as the boy continued. He shook his head, this boy would be lucky to have a rose from him. The teen was happy to cross him off his list, that wasn’t a much shorter list, but at least one person was off it, ”Aye, I’ll be sure tae let ye know who it wis,” he joked as he made to walk away, having dealt with it and seeing no more enjoyment that he could get from him. But, the fact Tristan continued drew Rory back in, ”Dinnae flatter yerself, yer the only one ah’ve seen so far,” he replied with a shrug, but he stopped from continuing when the boy spoke again, that was odd, interesting, what was this boy admitting to? The paint incident of the last year had gone unsolved, and perhaps that was because he hadn’t even thought Tristan would have the balls to do such a thing. Rory felt his anger flare, he took several steps towards Tristan, standing up straighter, being as imposing as he could, a scowl developing on his face, ”Most people, when they want tae get revenge on me, say it to ma face, the only revenge that’s happened tae me, wis a little paint incident….ye wouldnae happen tae know who may have been involved in that?” the boy’s accent seemed to grow deeper, anger behind his words. His fist clenched at his sides.It had taken him ages to get clean, to clean up his stuff after, he was definitely not going to hold back, his good behaviour thus far in the year be damned.
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[Tristan Collins]

Tristan was a little disappointed his teasing and semi-flirting didn't make Rory uncomfortable, as that had been the goal. But he quickly let it go. Their discussion was amusing, and he had to admit he liked taunting the Slytherin. He could tell Rory was putting together what he had hinted at, and he cursed at himself silently for feeling the need to say it. He straightened his spine as Rory closed in on him, raising his chin to look him in the face. He raised an eyebrow as the Scottish boy started to talk about the paint incident. But he knew it was a lost cause, he couldn't pretend not to have anything to do with it. Not when he was actually proud of it and when part of him wanted Rory to know it was him. Tristan cocked his head and smirked. "I don't know what you're talking about, Rory." He said innocently, before narrowing his eyes. "But between you and me, red really isn't your color, I have to say." He added in a lower voice, his smirk growing as he spoke. He knew this was as good as admitting it, as Rory hadn't specified the color of the paint. He watched his face closely, wondering how he would react. His hand slid into the pocket of his robe, taking a hold of his wand just in case.

 

[Rory Fergusson]

Rory watched the hufflepuff very carefully as he made the accusation at him. He watched the other boy smirk and felt like he knew that it had been him. Rory had tried to find out who'd thrown the paint on him, but it had been so near the end of the semester that he had soon been home and he knew there was little point looking seriously, but this boy had just told him. Rory laughed as if finding the last comment funny, "Aye, ah'd argue it'd look even better on ye," his tone remained thick and as threatening as he could make it, using the harshness in his accent to make that more apparent. But, he barely hesitate in following it by scrunching up his fist and putting all his might into punching the boy in front of him in the face. He knew this was likely a mistake, that he'd get into trouble for hitting the younger boy, but he didn't really care. Rory believe the low life deserved it. Throwing paint on someone from the safety of wherever they had been rather than facing him. With his grades it wasn't like he was going to be prefect, and nor did he want to be a prefect in this crummy school, with it's unworthy people. When Rory hit, he hit hard, as hard as someone of his age and quidditch stature would hit.
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[Tristan Collins]

Tristan knew this was all a bad idea, but the thrill of letting Rory know it had been him that had done this to him. Not only because he was a lowly muggleborn in the older boy's eyes, but because he was younger and had gotten away with it completely. If he hadn't said anything, Rory would never have figured it out. he hoped that would infuriate the boy. His hand was still on his wand as the boy talked to him and then moved in a way that definitely wasn't what Tristan had expected. He had expected it to become a fight, but not one that involved fists. Before he could think much more, a blinding pain knocked the breath out of him as Rory's fist connected with his face. He heard a crack and lost his footing, falling backwards onto the stone ground. His face was hurting blindingly, tears stinging in his eyes as blood gushed from his nose. He breathed harshly, trying to sit up and touch his face gingerly at the same time. One thought crowded to the forefront of his mind, and even though he was in pain and vulnerable he choked out a wheezy laugh. "Wow, Rory." He croaked, wincing as he touched his nose carefully. "You fight like a complete muggle." He coughed as some blood flowed onto his lips and wiped it off. He was glad his fall hadn't hurt him too much, but the punch Rory had thrown had definitely hurt him a lot. His hand was no longer holding his wand, and he felt a jolt of fear as he realized it had probably fallen out of his grasp when he had fallen down. He darted a glance around him, but the bloody mess of his nose was quite a distraction and he soon squeezed his eyes closed in pain again. He wondered if it was broken. It didn't stop him from blindly feeling around for it in what he hoped was a subtle way. Tristan wasn't much of a physical fighter, but if he could get a hand on his wand he might be able to defend himself. Mostly he hoped a Professor would see this, if he was caught punching another student Rory probably wouldn't get off with a warning like last time. "What makes you angrier?" He hissed at the boy, hoping he would distract him enough to get a hold of his wand. "That you were bested by a muggleborn, or..." He cracked a slight grin, even though he felt some tears of pain escape his eyes as well. "That you were too stupid to figure it out yourself for nearly a year?"

 

[Rory Fergusson]

Rory had to admit that the feeling of his fist landing on the other boy's nose was satisfying, the noise that came along with it satisfied him more. The teen felt himself smirk, with some of the anger slowly fading away as he watched the other boy fall to the ground, with blood pouring out of his nose. The slytherin was definitely happy with the sight before him. He thought that would be the end of it, that Tristan would remain down and he could go on his merry way, but this didn't appear to be the case. The scottish boy's gaze glanced down at the other boy and listened to him speak. Did he fight like a muggle? Why did all wizard fights need to be magical in nature? He would've left it at that, if the other boy hadn't continued talking. Very quickly, bested by a muggleborn? By the paint incident, "The f#ck ah was, ah wasnae bested by some piece of shite muggleborn, you dinnae even have the balls tae face me," Rory shot back with anger in his voice. Rory couldn't believe this muggleborn could think that having poured paint on him was being bested. The slytherin reached for his wand and pulled it out, holding it lightly in his hand, "Yer such a f#cking fanny, I bet yer arenae so happy now ah've ruined yer face," the words rolled off his tongue with anger. This boy was the worst, just the worst. Every negative thought that Rory had towards muggleborns came rushing back, if Tristan didn't want to fight like muggles, then his wand he would fight with, "Stupefy," he uttered with anger filling his voice. He definitely like punching people more but if Tristan wanted to fight like this, then he was happy to oblige.
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[Monty Pendleton]

After Monty had finished with lessons for the morning, he locked up his office and headed out of the dungeons. It was a nice day, apparently - the Potions professor could only take his students' word for it, seeing as he hadn't left his dark, cold classroom since breakfast - and he was keen to make the most of it by taking a stroll through the grounds. He had no sooner stepped out into the courtyard, however, when he stumbled across a terrible commotion. On the ground, tentatively lifting a hand to his bloodied face, was Tristan Collins. In front of him, spewing profanity, raising his wand, Rory Fergusson. Without hesitation Monty withdrew his own wand, casting a protective shield around Tristan just as Rory uttered a stunning spell. "THAT IS ENOUGH!" he yelled, striding forward. With another flick of his wand, he sent a disarming spell at Rory. "Fergusson, you will come with me to Professor Styx's office now. Violence, bullying, and derogatory language will not be tolerated in this school." He turned to Tristan next. "Will you be all right to take yourself to the hospital wing, Tristan?" he asked. "And I'd like to see you, please, in my office this afternoon. Three o'clock." He gave no explanation as to why, but hoped that his tone would assure the boy he was not in trouble. "Fergusson - with me."

 

[Tristan Collins]

Tristan felt a surge of pride at the sight of Rory's anger. The fact that his words were hitting the boy the way he had hoped made him feel powerful, even if he was still on the ground with blood running out of his nose. He kept feeling around for his wand as he replied. "I'm not worried, I'm still better looking than y-" the words died in his throat when he saw Rory pull his wand and aim it at him. He still hadn't found his own wand, so he couldn't even defend himself. He was sure he couldn't jump or roll out of the way in time. He winced, but to his surprise he wasn't hit by the spell.

He had been shielded. And the reason for it soon let itself be known. Tristan looked up, slightly startled by the anger in Professor Pendleton's voice. He hadn't known he was capable of that. Tristan remembered the last time he had been caught in a fight by Professor Pendleton, when he had gotten the equal blame. At least it didn't seem to go this way now. And he hoped that if one good thing came of this, it was Rory actually getting in trouble. He slowly got to his feet, giving Rory a triumphant glance before turning his attention to the Professor. It wasn't lost on him that Professor Pendleton had quite literally saved him in this instance. The idea of being unconscious and at the mercy of Rory Fergusson was enough to make his skin crawl. He swallowed, wiping some blood off his face before speaking. "Thank you, Professor. I... I'll be fine." A small frown creased his forehead when the professor said he'd like to see him in his office in the afternoon. The tone was light and friendly at least, but he still wasn't sure what to think. But he didn't linger on it, he had to get his nose fixed. "Yeah, I'll be there." He muttered with a small shrug. Then he started to head inside.

 

[Rory Fergusson]

Rory was pretty annoyed when a professor stopped him from casting the spell. He felt his anger boil, stupid potions professor. He pocked his wand and looked up at the man and shrugged, "Fine," was all he replied with a last glare at the other boy. He began walking away in the direction of the head of house, knowing that it had probably been a mistake to get into such a fight, to take out his wand, but boy had Rory just not cared about it. This school was awful, it never recognised his status, not even just the fact his family was well respected outside of being of better blood. He didn't want to be here. He didn't want to get expelled, but if he could just be politely asked to leave the school and go to another that would suit him fine. He'd miss some of the girls, but he'd find others.
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