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Dax Gordon

Take my advice (we are bad news)

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Dax Gordon

Dax was pretty sure he’d died and gone to heaven. Sure, he was cheated out of becoming a Champion for Hogwarts in the Tournament that he definitely didn’t even sort of care about, but he couldn’t dwell on the injustice that he didn’t feel when there was a veritable buffet of new and exotic women for him to sample. French, Russian, Swedish, Norwegian—women from more areas of the world than he could ever hope to name and they were all ripe for the picking.

 

So, maybe he struck out with the first Durmstrang girl he slid a line to, but how was he supposed to know that her much bigger, much hairier boyfriend was lurking in the shadows? It was a honey pot in the first place and he was destined to fail. He wouldn’t be making a mistake like that again and, even if the next girl he cornered did have a boyfriend, he’d at least be avoiding the Scandinavian type with the Viking beaus and would be going for the softer, more civilized Beauxbatons female.

 

(A French dude didn’t stand a chance against him.)

 

There were too many options waiting to play victim for Dax to actually choose, so he closed his eyes, walked down the halls, and settled on the first foreign female he knocked into. If nothing else, at least no one could claim that Dax Gordon was biased.

 

Bonjour,” he said instead of an apology for practically running this poor girl over. “Comet ka vas?” He was pretty much a French master and hadn’t learned any of it at all from listening in to Halcyon’s conversations so he was pretty much in with this chick already. Assuming she spoke French. Assuming she didn’t immediately hit him. Assuming, assuming, assuming.

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Isla Reimann

Isla had been keeping to herself still. She had had some encounters with people in and around the castle but really she hadn't done a whole lot recently. She had done her usual hoarding of books to the powderpuff carriage that she was now calling home, and apart from meals and her obligatory classes she had holed herself up in there. 

 

She had been returning from the library, books in hand when a boy from the green house nearly mowed her down. 

 

Her eyes widened and she let one of the books slide out of her hand as she realised who had actually ran into her. Instantly she clammed up, her cheeks flushing just slightly. She was embarrassed at the fact she hadn't noticed him and gotten out of his way. 

 

However that feeling shifted as he began to speak french to her. She didn't speak French, or rather it wasn't her first language. She spoke just enough to get by in school. English was her first language, Italian on par with that. Instead of answering him she actually eventually just nodded and laughed in his face. She couldn't help that, even if it was pretty rude. She just found it too funny to hold it in. 

 

Eventually she answered, in perfect English. Her voice only having a hint of a sort of Pan-European accent. "Er hi there?"  

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Dax Gordon

Dax was only certain of three things at that point in his life: 

 

1. He still held the "Best Hair in the Castle" title even with all of these foreign dudes running around,

2. Axe® Dark Temptation® was never going to fail him as his signature scent,

and 3. This chick definitely wasn't French.

 

Where had the miscalculations come in? All of them were some kind of French, right? France was basically the rest of Europe so, like?? Where were the smooth French lines coming from this chick instead of all that laughter?

 

Dax did not blush, but he did scowl and, for a moment, reconsidered his choices. His choices with this girl specifically, of course, because he'd never reconsider his general life goal of snogging as many honeys as humanly possible. Girls weren't supposed to laugh at him unless he meant for them to, and his incredibly suave opening was not meant to evoke laughter.

 

Maybe she was one of those foreign girls who didn't understand British customs. Maybe she didn't know that she was supposed to be swooning. Maybe she was just confused by how incredibly attractive Dax was and was someone who got the nervous giggles. The last was the most likely, Dax decided, and he'd stick with that one until the day he died.

 

"Hey. Didn't see you there." He sighed a big, dramatic sigh, pushed back his sunglasses to give her a grossly thorough once-over. "Which is so weird because you're so hot." She couldn't laugh at compliments like that.

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Isla Reimann

Isla watched the boy. He went from confident to scowling. Oh. She must've done something to upset him. With that she bit down on her lip, trying to asses the situation further. Opening her mouth to speak she raised a hand, about to put it on his shoulder and ask if he was ok. 

 

But then his demeanour changed again and she was more confused. He was playing it cool. Or so she assumed. She didn't have all that much experience with boys. Despite what she lied and told people. Her head tilted to the side as he spoke, and she played with her hair, pulling it over one shoulder. 

 

Two could play at that game. Time for her to turn on her own charm. Or what very little she had of it. Usually she just stood there like a deer in the headlights, but she was ready to try anyway. 

 

Smirking at his sunglasses she eyed him still "Why thank you. I'm Isla..." She shamelessly looked him over, mirroring him. Even if she wasn't hid by sunglasses like he was. "And you are?" 

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Dax Gordon

Oh no oh god oh no she was flirting back

 

Code—

 

Dax didn't even have a code for this. Usually, girls swooned over him and that was it, done deal. If they weren't swooning, they were punching, if they weren't punching, they were rolling their eyes and snapping something snarky; those, he had to admit, were his favorite. He got to needle and pick at those until they fell into one of the other two categories but—

 

Flirting back was different. It was so rare that Dax had to do a complete overhaul of his entire plan for how this was supposed to go: no more negging, no more back-handed compliments, no more thinly veiled threats to tell people that they'd made out already, so they might as well make it true. He just had to, like, talk to Isla.

 

"Uh."

 

Smooth.

 

"Dax. Dax Gordon." Find your rhythm, Gordon. And he was sliding on a brighter smile, more honest though no less greasy. "I'm sure you've heard about me from some of your schoolmates. Best kisser in Hogwarts? That's me. Four years running. It's whatever."

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Isla Reimann

Isla watched his features, but she didn't notice the momentary panic. Or else she didn't feature on it if she did. She pretended not to notice. It didn't really matter to her. Despite her facade she was new to this rodeo. She liked boys but Christian had never really let anyone near her, and let her near anyone. It was all uncharted waters. 

 

But still, she kept up her catlike smile, feigning confidence. The two of them great pretenders. 

 

She bit her lip, attempting to hide a quiet chuckle. "Um no.." her head shook as she reached up to play with some of her hair again. "Actually I've barely spoken to anyone since getting here.." She wasn't sure, her eyes faltered on him some more. Maybe he could be a good kisser,  but then she had nothing to compare it to really. Instead she decided to change the subject. Inhaling sharply she nervously squeaked out "So you're.." she fumbled trying to find something to talk about "...you're in the green house." she eventually finished lamely, motioning to his Slytherin robes. She tried to hold her smile up irregardless, not wanting to be a total mess.  

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