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Asher Leighton

Sleight of hand and twist of fate, on a bed of nails she makes

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Asher Leighton

The redhead boy pulled a card out of his deck, twirling it around his fingers idly as everyone in the classroom packed up their items to get ready to leave for the day. Asher wasn't particularly in any sort of rush to get back to the frustrating and depressing air of the Leighton household. At least his sister was home from school, so he could annoy her a bit instead of listening to his father's depressive rhetoric as he moped around the house.

 

His satchel, now full with his parchment and books, was a hand me down from his sister and he couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts so he could use some magic to remove the flower appliques she'd charmed to stay on, despite his best attempts with a pocket knife. He's decided to take a "devil may care" attitude about the overly girly item. At least it worked for it's intended purpose. 

 

As the majority of the tittering ten year olds filed out of the front door, Asher looked over his shoulder to see movement in the corner. Near the door to the supply closet, a raven haired girl was milling about and caught his attention. Curious, the boy turned around completely and headed in the direction of the closet. He pushed his copper-red hair out of his face as he reached the door, learning on the frame in a futile attempt to look cool. "Oy, whatcha lookin' for in there?" He continued twirling the spare card around his fingers, watching the small girl with furrowed brows. 

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Honorine Nott

When Honorine had discovered the box of old newspapers in the arts and crafts closet at school, she'd almost smiled for the first time in half a decade. It was the sort of material she couldn't just ask her parents to conjure up for her; it was rare, authentic, and perfectly serendipitous. The newspapers would be perfect for her latest poetry experiment, and she'd been slyly taking the sheets from the closet one at a time as everyone else bounded out the door to head back home. She'd considered herself quite stealthy for the past six days, but naturally on the seventh day Merlin said: Let there be intrusion. She peeked over her shoulder, hoping to see a gnome. Alas, this was not the case.

 

Great. The ugly redhead. She'd been trying to avoid that one.

 

It wasn't that she was intentionally malicious, or bore any ill-will on the tragic creature. She just felt about him the way she felt about red corvettes on the highway; you avoided driving too close to them so that you wouldn't end up complicit. Or dead. She already had enough attention drawn to her by the literal sunshine that radiated off of Covey every time she gave someone a condescending grin; she was doing her best to minimize any other relations that might associate her with recklessness or sociability.

 

"Nothing," was her immediate clever reply. She let the newspaper flutter to the ground conspicuously behind her. "Am I in your way?" She glanced down at the card in his hand. Oh no. The muggle magic tricks. She'd been warned about this. She gestured to the card in his hand. "Beware of paper cuts."

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Asher Leighton

Asher narrowed his eyes as he regarded the brunette and the sudden shift in her attitude. Moments before, he could have almost sworn he'd seen actual emotion on her face, but the moment he spoke to her the door slammed and her face was back to the mask of impassivity that he'd noticed in class. "Nothin', eh?" The redhead stood on his top-toes to look past her into the supply closet, seeing papers fluttering to the ground. Newspaper? "Somethin' in tha news you're looking to read 'bout?" 

 

The boy looked down at his hands. They were covered in scars and marks, but not from the simple act of playing with cards. That was probably the least-violent thing he'd been interested in. Climbing trees, playing in the valleys, picking strange items up off the dirty streets of Cardiff. Did it make him seem cooler if he had cut himself playing with his deck of cards? Must have, because he decided that was what he was going with. 

 

"Yeah, cards are very dangerous, 'ya know. One almost caugh' me in tha throat once." So cool. So swuave. See how uncaring he was about a little peril? "Would you like t' see a magic trick?"  

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