The Mix-Up

[Jeremy Thorne]

Clad in his Ravenclaw robe and whatever he'd managed to toss on while half asleep underneath, Jeremy trudged his way down to the Great Hall after his Defense Against the Dark Arts exam, fairly disheartened. Judging by how poorly he'd done on the quiz only a few weeks earlier, he knew a miracle would have been necessary to get an O in the class. Merlin knew his father would hatch a dragon if he found out his son had bludgered his DATDA exam, and since his dad was the only family member he was particularly fond of right at the moment, he had been up all night cramming. Entering the Great Hall with a huge yawn, Jeremy slowly ambled his way to the Ravenclaw table, noting that there were a few but not many others from his class around just yet. Jeremy knew Logan wasn't there yet and it was the best thing really. Jeremy was already feeling irritable at the lack of sleep and his pessimism about his results on the test. The last thing he needed was to hear Logan complain about the test, especially since he never got less than an O in anything. And considering his cousin was their professor, the chances that Logan had failed were slim to none.

As Jeremy dug into a turkey and cheese sandwich, he propped his textbook against a milk jug and began to scan for answers to questions he'd seen on the exam. It was a torturous habit he had, and today he couldn't really remember what answers he'd provided, which only made him more worried. By the time he looked up again, Jeremy was surprised to see that the Hall had gotten much more crowded. Time had flown past. He didn't want to chance getting stuck in the queue of students leaving after their meal, especially since he was eager to begin studying for his Muggle Studies exam. As he stood up and slammed his book shut, Jeremy glanced down the Ravenclaw table but didn't see Logan. He rolled his eyes -He's probably with his girlfriend- and went back to gathering his books. Jeremy sidestepped a younger student, but stepped right into the path of an older Slytherin student who gave Jeremy a shove out of his way. His elbow flew out, knocking into a student who was sitting at the Slytherin table, as Jeremy struggled to keep his bag on his shoulder and his books and papers in his hand. "Jerk" he muttered after the older student once he'd managed to right himself.

 

[Stefan Archer]

Exams, Exams, Exams. The only word on the Slytherin Boy's mind. He spent his entire night thinking about how hard it would be and then be up all night worrying about it. The dark being his prime, he tried his hardest to spare time to studying, but it was proving hard. Stefan Archer didn't think any of the information he was writing/reading was actually going into his brain. He felt like his brain had gone into a completely shut down mode. It wasn't like he wasn't trying, with everything else, he could barely breathe calmly. There was always something that needed read. And he hadn't even had the time to find his friends and at least mutter an apology to them. Sure, he felt he shouldn't and knew that apologise wouldn't actually change anything about how he really felt, but friends were what he needed. He needed someone to just be with. Not even talking. Just to be with. It wasn't like he got that from his dorm room mates. or his house mates. Most of his house mates and dorm room mates, hated him for the muggleborn status that he held while being in Slytherin. And his roommates weren't keen on him, because he'd pretty much torn apart the dorm. He could hardly be blamed, he had so much to deal with and so much bottled up anger that when it came to the surface it came like a tsunami, destroying everything in sight, and dragging others down into a murky mess. It wasn't like he hadn't put as much back together as was possible. He had needed to vent the anger. He was bored of just letting things slide or build up. He wanted people to know that he didn't like how he was treated. Or how difficult things had to be for him. Summertime, adding extreme sunlight to the entire equation. For 12, Stefan had a lot more to deal with than any other in the school. No one else could claim that they had as much to deal with. Break ups, pregnancy scares, mothers not letting them do what they wanted, held no much for what Stefan had to deal with. His colour blindness, meant he wasn't very good at going out in the light. And made him generally sensitive to light. It also meant that his eye sight was just in general pretty poor. Then he had to worry about his father, and how things would be during the holidays. Whether he should pack extra food, or if he should just no go, and hope his father would never notice. And on top of all that, he had girl problems and had to deal with exams. It was a wonder that Stefan didn't break down, or blow up more often and to a bigger scale. In the grand scale of things, Stefan had acted fairly calmly.

The Great Hall had a close to deadly silence when the Slytherin headed to the table. It was early, morning and he had his books under arm, and writing equipment held in the other hand. He had to study more and he had grown so fond of the great hall, that the noise was comforting to him. So, he happily sat and worked in the great Hall. The Slytherin table was close to empty. Not many Slytherins studied as much as Stefan found he did. It wasn't that hard. Most Slytherins, had the unnatural ability to just be able to wing exams. Stefan put it down to magical background leading to them just knowing more about magic and how it worked, and the classes they did. Stefan had to work for anything that he wanted. It was what made him different from almost all slytherins. And most others. he couldn't just wing anything. And he couldn't just ask for anything. Stefan was like that lone wolf. But instead of eventually gaining a pack, he just pushed them away and drove them in the opposite direction from him. It was a bubble around him, keeping him from letting others into his messed up and quiet world. Taking a seat, Stefan put his books out and let his stuff sit propped up. The quill in hand, and the soft light of the rising sun, meaning that he was in the perfect kind of light to see what he was reading and writing. As he began working, the rest of the world slipped away. As time past, the light and noise grew. It was becoming more and more difficult to see the pages in front of him. It didn't help that no matter where you sat in the Great Hall, there were enough windows to provide maximum light. Stefan found this annoying, since now, the sun was higher, in obviously a clear New Zealand day, he could barely make out what he was writing. He squinted his eyes, and took care over every word. He'd soon have to move. The light was beginning to be too much. He had written a whole page in a morning, which at Stefan's writing pace, was an achievement and a half. He'd really worked hard this semester to get his reading and writing up, and it did show. His writing was less shakey, he was able to get through the assignments a lot more quickly. Overall, school work itself was becoming slightly easier to do. It was as he wrote, that someone bumped into him, causing Stefan to put a massive line through his work and causing mass amounts of ink to run and pretty much ruin his revision notes. This made Stefan angry. He had spent so much time, working on it and in one motion it had all been wiped. He couldn't even see himself being able to make more notes to read over before the exam itself. Too much light and not enough time.

Stefan did not care if the person who'd done it was a seventh year. He was just so annoyed, that he found himself getting to his feet and looking round at who had caused him to pretty much destroy hours of work. He could hear the laughter of other Slytherins, as they had witnessed what had happened. He looked to the person, and noticed it was the Ravenclaw boy who'd bumped into him before in the corridor. This boy was seriously out to get him. Stefan moved slightly away from the table and gave the Ravenclaw boy a shove. He had stopped himself from doing anything the previous time, but with all the added stress, right now, he didn't care. All he wanted to do, was cause harm to someone who'd annoyed. He wanted to act just like the Slytherin the sorting hat had made him. "You? Again?" Stefan said, his voice raised slightly. Anger clear. It was a small thing to get annoyed about, but, the boy had no idea how long it had taken Stefan to write it, and that he wouldn't be able to write it again. And despite all the other problems he'd almost finished his notes. The Ravenclaw boy, who'd for the second caused Stefan annoyance, was now the person that Stefan hated. And Stefan avoided hating anyone or anything. "Stupid. F##king. Ravenclaw" Stefan's voice said tauntingly.​

 

[Jeremy Thorne]

The young Ravenclaw didn't realize that he'd done anything wrong for a moment. He was simply too concerned with staring after the jerk of a Slytherin who had pushed him. As a smatter of laughter filled his ear, Jeremy could feel his face reddening because he thought the laughter was directed at him. It was after all a Slytherin who'd gone and pushed him. Jeremy glanced over and quickly realized that he wasn't the focus of all of the laughter as he noted a bunch of ink smeared across the table. Obviously, someone had spilled some ink but Jeremy had no idea that he was the cause of it.

Before Jeremy even realized what was happening and before he could open his mouth to utter an apology, he felt his body being propelled backward and he dropped his books in an effort to catch himself from falling. His book thudded against the floor and his papers floated slowly down, scattering as they did so. The young Ravenclaw had been pushed again! His face reddened again out of embarassment which quickly turned to anger when he realized who it was that had pushed him. It was the same stupid kid who'd collided into him not a couple of weeks before. This time Jeremy knew he was the one in the wrong but that still didn't make it alright for the guy to shove him. The guy had a major chip on his shoulder but that was his problem, not Jeremy's. "Dude, what was that for?" he complained. He didn't realize that he'd knocked the ink over onto anything important, so he couldn't understand what the guy's problem was with him. Sure, he probably had a sore spot on his back from where Jeremy's elbow had hit him but was that really cause for a shove? He didn't think so at all. "Overreact much? Relax and just clean it up. It's not a big deal." Jeremy had no time to deal with other people's problems and dramas. He had enough of his own to deal with.

Jeremy was reaching into his bag for his wand to right the wrong when he heard what the guy said next. He hated being cursed at and already the guy had done it twice. He fixed the younger guy with a cold stare. "Since I'm so stupid, I guess I won't clean it up. Do it your damn self" he said angrily, bending over to snatch up the book at his feet. He didn't plan on remaining there a moment longer then he had to. It was pointless. The Slytherin was obviously feeling brave because he was around his housemates. He hadn't been that brave at all last time they'd encountered each other.

 

[Stefan Archer]

This wasn't the usual way in which Stefan Mason Archer acted. Sure, it was the way he recently felt, but it wasn't how he did things, Generally, Stefan would've just gotten his stuff together and walked away. But, with the laughter directed at him, he was bored and tired of being treated like dirt. It was like being at home with his father, constantly shoved and laughed at. His work generally ruined. It just wasn't how he thought he should be treated. He had never done anything to anyone. he'd never been mean and then not regretted it. he'd never answered back and he'd never done anything that would actually harm someone. There was a bitter feeling inside him. One that had grown slowly over the past semester. One that he'd not really known how to control, because it was so new. Stefan had grown jealous of everyone around him. The people who didn't realise how easy things were for them, and how if they had to live a day like him, that they wouldn't even know how to act. It would tear most apart he knew. But what most didn't realise was that Stefan had this inner strength. He kept himself alive. Constantly thinking that this life would get better. That he'd find a family. That his father would just stop, because he knew at least that his life really could not get worse. How odd most would find that thought. Most would think that there would never be time, where you could really think that nothing would get better. But, here it was. For Stefan things were at rock bottom. His friends were still annoyed with him. He had exams. He he to return to his violent father. He had to struggle with his sight each day. Even the way the sun was there in the Great Hall, made it difficult for the Slytherin to make out the boy in front of him. In a different time, Stefan would've just ignored anything had happened. Put his stuff away and just walk away. But, no more. he was tired of being pushed around, just because he looked and was for all intents and purposes weak. He wanted to prove that he was a more than just a pathetic slytherin. Sure losing it with some older Ravenclaw was not the best way to go about it. But, It wasn't like anger let the person think straight. It wouldn't let a person think through anything. Anger he knew made people less methodical, and it just ended in more than one party upset. However on this day, Stefan didn't want to even think the world methodical. It was a silly word. In anger, all he wanted was to land one on the boy. As the boy spoke, Stefan felt his hand clench into a fist. His breathing was short and he felt like he needed to leave. Unlike most other times, his heart told him to stay and set it right with the elder boy.

"Clean, it, up? Brilliant suggestion, but cleaning it up will get rid of everything." Stefan was just assuming, but everything had been written with ink, there was no denying, that no matter what happened, cleaning the ink would do away his work. He was sure. He didn't like that he didn't actually know. But it was hardly his fault, he was a second year, and he found school difficult. It was hardly a walk in the park for someone like him. Stefan just stood and watched as the boy stopped himself from helping Stefan. It didn't bother Stefan that he did this. Stefan was actually looking for help from anyone. He had never asked to be helped. People just tended to help and it made him feel weird, he didn't like appearing weak and stupid. Being helped was exactly that. Although He knew when it came to his home life, it would be smarter to try to go for help, Stefan was stubborn, and he had a feeling that it had to be him. He HAD to be the one to either end it, or fix it. 3rd parties would do nothing to help. HIs father would either find him, or he'd end up in an even worse situation. There was no telling what foster parents would be like. If they would be worse or better than his father. There wasn't any way to tell, and he didn't exactly want to find out. His father wasn't going anywhere, and he doubted that his father would like it if suddenly his son was taken away. Stefan could tell how the entire thing would go. As he watched the boy, a small silence formed, people were watching, what would be Stefan's next move. What would the other boy's next move be. It angered him, that this boy cared so little that he'd destroyed an entire mornings work, that after this he'd go back to his normal everyday life. And have few worries, if any at all. Before Stefan could even stop himself, he found his fist was flying to the boys face. He really hoped that it would make contact. Violence was not the answer, but he couldn't take it any longer, he had to get it out his system, he had to show the boy how annoyed it made him. How angry he was. So he'd know to never do it again. Stefan was well aware that there were professors in the room, and he ran the risk of being kicked out, but, it didn't even bother him. His father would maybe, be proud he got kicked out for fighting. It meant Stefan was more like him. Even if he didn't want to be, there was no denying the fact that he was. They shared the same genes, and there was only so much that one could take before beating the hell out of someone. This was a someone, and while their were weak grounds for a fight, Stefan didn't care. It was still grounds.​

 

[Jeremy Thorne]

Jeremy continued to pick up the papers that had fallen across the floor, ignoring the younger Slytherin's comments about cleaning up the mess. On any other occasion, Jeremy likely would have fixed the problem himself, choosing to apologize for his mistake and make nice. Unfortunately, the semester had made him well versed in the art of not caring. Jeremy found that as the semester had worn on, he had cared less and less about everything. First, his feelings about his parent's divorce had gone, then his relationship with Logan, his feelings about Logan's new girlfriend and even his feelings about classes. He'd even gone so far as to cut class, something that Jeremy normally would never have thought to do. All had quickly diminished in importance, with Jeremy spending less and less time focusing on these activities. The one thing that hadn't diminished was his love for quidditch, but even there, he struggled to converse with his teammates. Jeremy much preferred running drills where there was little opportunity for speech but plenty of opportunity for him to push his body to the extreme. It was all he cared about these days because it was in those times that he felt the most comfortable in his skin. The quaffle he practiced carrying under his arm did not care that his mother hated quidditch. The bludgers didn't care that Jeremy's best friend had abandoned him for a girl. So, why should he? It was the attitude he'd adopted as of late. Whatever then, he thought to himself as he stood up.

With little concern for what was going on, Jeremy ignored the hush that had fallen over the area and stood up, turning to leave with barely a glance at the boy. Had he looked up in time, perhaps he would have been able to avoid the punch that had been thrown at him. He'd certainly practiced enough speed drills to stay away from bludgers. None of those practices had prepared him for the speed or strength at which a punch came in. His cheek exploded in pain and he felt the heat fill his cheek as he staggered back a step, his hand flying to cover the area that had been hit. "You...punched me?" he asked in a shocked tone as he blinked rapidly. "You. Punched. Me." he repeated again as he walked towards the boy. His face quickly morphed, the shock giving way to anger and Jeremy shoved him with all of his strength. He was still a very slight guy, much too thin to do damage to those his own age or older but likely enough to do something to a smaller person. He didn't wait to see what would happen next. Jeremy had never been in a fight before and he wasn't eager to get in one now, especially not with the guy's housemates so close by. Whether they were laughing at him or not, Jeremy was sure they would jump to the younger boy's defense much more quickly than they would jump to his.

 

[Stefan Archer]

There wasn't much that Stefan expected to happen when he punched the elder boy. He expected pain and a punch back. But as his fist hit the boys face he couldn't help but let out a small wince in pain. It was painful, his hand was not the strongest thing about him. he was a small 12 year old. He had no strength. The fact he'd even caused the other boy pain was a wonder. he didn't think that he was making the right decision by punching him, but he was just annoyed. The boy had no idea how much Stefan had to work, on the paper he'd just destroyed and just in generally. It would seem to him that the ravenclaw would get anything he wanted. Where as Stefan had nothing and to get anything he had to work more than anyone else he knew. All the people at Hogwarts had it out easy. Classes, the magic, the sport, the family, the friends, the looks. Stefan thought of himself as the bottom of the pile. He didn't think he deserved any of the help that was offered to him. They would only help for as long as they could be bothered with, and being colour blind meant Stefan was sure, his problems would last forever. Which most could not even imagine. Most would never even come close ti knowing it. Colour blindness to his extent was very much rare. Some were partially colour blind, but they didn't see like he did. They had their colours screwed, but at least they actually knew what colour was. For Stefan colour would always be something he would never have. A word that was just a world to him, like the or and. it was there but, he couldn't use. Black and White, were technically colours, but they were a poor excuse for them. It was odd, the feeling after punching the boy. He wasn't quite sure what to do, whether to walk away or to stand his ground. What ever would happen, would have to be what he did. And while his mind was filled with anger towards the boy, and the people sitting around them, his mind was also telling him to just get out of their. To just take his things and run. Because if he ran he would get into a lot less trouble. But, Stefan couldn't exactly see this going exactly how he wanted it to go. Stefan was almost frozen in the moment. He wasn't sure what to do. He wasn't sure how to deal with the problem before him.

A shove was forced his way, and unsteady of his feet, Stefan took several steps back and almost fell over. He had to hold out hands to balance himself once more. He was now very much annoyed. Stefan was so sick and tired of people pushing him around. Of people having a go at him. Of people thinking that they could control him. Thinking that they knew better him, when they really knew nothing about him and his situation. When anything they suggested just would no work. And yet suggestions kept coming his way. Because any of them would be able to deal with it. He got himself steady and without even thinking about launched himself at the eldest boy. Shoving him and trying to land as mnay punches and kicks as he could. Ignoring how much it would in turn hurt him. He was just venting. In probably the wrong way, but Stefan could hardly think of any other ways to do it. It was just pointless. He just wanted to tear someone apart, so that they could feel like he did. he cared little for the consequences, he cared little if people were watching. He didn't care if someone tried to pull him off. Stefan was there and then, just wanted to cause pain. Because the more pain he actually caused the less it would hurt him. Or so he figured, but a part of the slytherin boy knew this was entirely the wrong way to go about things. However he cared little for the voice of common sense in his brain, that was inevitable right.​

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[Jeremy Thorne]

Jeremy barely took notice that the punch seemed to have hurt theboy's hand nearly as much as it had hurt his face. He was so intent on pushing the boy that frankly he didn't care. The burning sensation on his cheek was already dulling, but Jeremy's anger was just beginning to kick in. The semester had been a collection of events just like that punch. From the announcement by his parents of their divorce, which had hit him like a punch in the gut, to the slap-in-the-face realization that his mom didn't support his quidditch playing to the stab in the back that his friend had decided to date and leave him out of it, Jeremy felt battered and bruised emotionally. He just couldn't deal, especially not today since he had the feeling that he'd completely blown his DATDA exam.

As he felt his hands connect with the boy's shoulders, Jeremy felt a momentary sense of satisfaction, close to what he felt when he played quidditch. He watched the boy nearly lose his balance as he turned to leave, so he once again didn't see the boy's return strike. Anyone who was well-versed in fighting would know that nver losing sight of one's opponent was an important rule, but Jeremy had never been in a fight before. The idea that he was in one at the moment barely even crossed his mind until he fell on his knees and his hands went over his head to block this latest attack. None of them hurt as much as the initial blow had since that one had been a direct hit, but a few managed to sneak through.

Using his weight, Jeremy tried to scramble away from the younger boy. He didn't want to hurt him, though that thought was quickly fleeing his mind. He kicked out with a leg just as he felt two hands grab his shoulders and pull him up. Not knowing if it was an enemy or a friend, Jeremy was about to fight back when he heard a familiar voice. It was an older Ravenclaw student pulling him away. Jeremy fought back against the older guy for a second until he realized how futile it was. Sure, he was older and larger than the Slytherin who'd attacked him but he was younger and much thinner than the guy pulling him away. "You're a jerk!" he yelled at the Slytherin as he was pulled back several steps more. The older guy was trying to calm him down, telling him that it wasn't worth a detention. Jeremy had never served a detention before, yet he found himself thinking about whether one might be worth it in this instance. Part of him thought it might be, especially if he could show the kid a lesson, but the other part, knew that he would be very ashamed of himself if he ended up in that much trouble.