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Ryszard Althaus-Valerio

I’m branded black and blue

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Ryszard Althaus-Valerio

It had taken several minutes for his hands to unclench when he finally made it out of the Slytherin common room. There was a restless energy racing through Ryszard’s veins, as he stumbled along the corridors. It would just be the icing on the cake if he managed to fall down one of the staircases and break his neck. He didn’t think @Adrina Althaus-Valerio wouldn’t appreciate that at all, but he also didn’t think she would appreciate him telling @Jaxon Sinclair to back off, either.

 

It was a dead end, no matter where he turned.

 

He finally found his way towards the Great Hall, cursing loudly as he tried to get his heart to stop racing like it had seen a ghost. He wasn’t scared of Jaxon, but for a moment there, everything had turned blurry as he realised he would have to trust the word of a werewolf. That was the terrifying thought, as images of his sister kept flashing before his eyes: her Hufflepuff coloured robes splattered with blood, eyes colourless and her laughter completely gone, forever. It was enough to make him pause before the Great Hall doors, squeezing his eyes together and doing his best to clear his vision.

 

There wasn’t much else to it - he stepped into the vast hall, eyes flickering through the crowd as he once again donned a detached face. Ryszard watched as students were tucking into dinner, spread out on the tables set one after another. It wasn’t 7PM yet, but Ryszard was surprised to see it was dinnertime already.

 

As he set a course for the Slytherin house table, his eyes caught on a familiar figure, but in a completely different place to where he ought to be. Smirking to himself, he made his way over, and patted the other boy’s shoulder to get his attention. “Winston,” he said, sweet acid dripping from his teeth. “What are you doing here? Don’t you have any friends?”

 

His eyes travelled to the girl sitting next to him; he didn’t recognise her, but her face looked familiar enough to know they were in the same year. “What are you doing here with him - if you even are his friend,” he added, scoffing. “He smells like dog and he used to carry that bag with him all the time.” Pointing at Winston’s glasses, Ryszard addressed Jo once more. “Have you seen how ridiculous those glasses look on him? Simply tragic,” he added, grinning wide. He was just getting started.

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Winston Hughes

Everything felt different.

 

The day started innocently enough. Classes, meals in the Great Halls, spending time with friends where you could… But by the time dusk fell upon Hogwarts, everything would change and students wouldn’t be the same people they were that morning. For the students who managed to find sleep that night, their dreams were nightmares, the reality of the day twisted them into someone new. Despite being one of the lucky ones, Winston was no different.

 

The Slytherin hadn’t come across any werewolf or directly experience any type of real danger. The worst thing he dealt he had to deal with was Rian startling him and contesting the kooky librarian’s demand to confiscate his wand, for reacting to a perceived threat, in a time of crisis. Winston was glad he managed to find his way to Jo though. Spending the night worried about four of his friends was preferable to spending the night worried about all five’s safety.

 

There were no claws or bites to deal with.

 

But Winston did have to fear his own safety and the safety of his friends in a way he never had to before.

 

The days following the attacks, Winston found himself jumpy and just as on edge as he was trapped in the blasted library. Poor Croissant, the Corgi he managed to hide since he entered Hogwarts, worried that it’s licks, best cuddles, and coolest tricks couldn’t bring about his genuine smiles. Winston was a boy who liked control. He knew the ins and outs of the world around him, pulling their strings benevolently, to make it safe for him. He didn’t know what strings to pull now after this werewolf attack. He was constantly afraid and it left him with only two options, to fight, and surround himself with his friends.

 

Winston was minding his own business, spending a quieter lunch than was normal a week ago, with his friend Jo. One of his five friends, a tough girl, one who made him feel just the littlest bit safer. That was when Ryszard came looking for trouble. His words didn’t hurt him but they did make him angry. That too was a change from one week ago. Everything, it seemed, made him angry now.

 

“Oh bugger off, Ryszard.” Winston glared at his roommate, his hand creeping towards his wand. “I look no more ridiculous than you did without a wand in first year. What did you use to practice your wand movements again, a twig?"

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Josephine Tindall

The tension throughout the castle was palpable. 

 

In the aftermath of the attacks Hogwarts had shifted from a place where Jo found freedom to a glorified prison in which the students were marched to dinner while the sun was still setting in locked in their common room. They were being punished for the schools failings and it made the Ravenclaws blood boil. The passive girl silently stewed in her anger at the broken system and the injustice of it all. 

 

First the Muggle world had failed her and now this? Get your crap in order adults of the world. These failings were not the students fault and yet their freedoms were suffering. 

 

Her buddy for that day was Winston. The friends had been taking turns accompanying one another lest a professor of prefect stumble upon them unaccompanied and they end up in detention. 

 

"After dinner I'll walk back with one of them," Jo grumbled, nodding towards the other Ravenclaws before spooning some more food into her mouth as some kid sat himself down in front of them and started mouthing off at Winston. 

 

Jo raised a brow.

 

Who the flack was this clown? 

 

She took in the dark haired boys appearance, right down to his twisted smirk. A smirk that she was familiar with because it was one she often adopted herself. Her stomach curled at his words and green eyes looked towards Winston who bristled beside her, retaliating with anger of his own. His hand reaching for his wand and Jo gently nudged her friend and shook her head. "Don't." This wasn't Winston, he wasn't the kind of person that would hurt another and Jo didn't want her friend to lose his cool because of some ill-placed words. 

 

Turning back to Ryszard, Jo looked the Slytherin boy up and down. Her lip curled in disgust at his grin. "Who even are you? Run along little boy," she gestured him away with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I don't have time to deal with trash males today. Go." 

Edited by Josephine Tindall

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Ryszard Althaus-Valerio

Something had changed. Instead of rising to the words, Winston looked angry and simply told him to leave. It frustrated Ryszard to no end, but he still kept his voice level and raised an eyebrow. “I got a new wand right away,” he replied. “Money, you see.” He smirked at the other boy, wondering if he had really thought there was any other possibility. Ryszard’s parent would never let their eldest go without the most important instrument at school.

 

It was the one thing that made this entire situation so much more dire: his sister claimed their parents wouldn’t care if anything happened to them - they hadn’t even sent either twin a letter asking if they were okay - but Ryszard had to believe that they would be deeply effected if their daughter started dating a werewolf.

 

“A twig would be more suited for you, though,” he nodded, as if in thought. “Have you even learned any spells yet?” He looked at Winston with clear disdain in his eyes, and didn’t even notice Jo was speaking to him until her shrill tones reached his ears. It annoyed him to no end; he had definitely addressed her with his previous words, but they had been meant for Winston and no one else.

 

Reluctant as he was, he turned his eyes in the Ravenclaw’s direction. “Do I look like I care about what you do or don’t have the time for?” He asked, incredulous. “I don’t even know who you are,” he added. “You’re no one.” Ryszard didn’t see the point of talking to someone he didn’t even know; now, Winston, on the other hand, was someone he knew very well, making him the perfect target for his anger.

 

He would deal with Jaxon, eventually, but for now, this was the next best thing.

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Winston Hughes

Jo noticed his movement and nudged him with her shoulder. The Ravenclaw’s words bring momentary clarity to Winston. He hadn’t let the other boy’s, a real nuisance more than any threat, get to him since that day in first year he broke his wand. The thirteen year old knew he was better than this, that there were better ways to deal with this situation. It did little to quell the rise of anger in him but his friend’s words did stop him from grabbing his wand. For now.

 

Winston didn’t need another staff member trying to confiscate it from him… not again. But his hand stayed near his wand pocket, just in case.

 

“That’s not the way I remember it, Twiggy.” Winston peered through his thick glasses with disdain towards Ryszard. His voice cruel and mocking, his anger towards the werewolves and the shattering of his worlds’ safety projected onto his bullying roommate. “I remember Mummy and Daddy couldn’t take their wittle baby boy to Ollivanders for a few days. You looked real tough though in Transfiguration and Charms the next few days.” Rolling his eyes at the boy’s next words, Winston waved his middle finger towards Ryzsard like a wand movement “Here’s one for you, You’re-a-toss-er Abra Kadabra!”

 

Winston felt his anger increase as Ryszard turned his attentions to Jo. He knew the girl would be able to take care of himself but for the first time in his life, Winston felt the need to protect his friends rather than the other way around.  Still, Winston leaned back with a smirk. He couldn't wait to see what happened next to the boy. “You’re about to find out exactly who she is.”

 

Edited by Winston Hughes

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Josephine Tindall

“Money, you see.”

 

Well this was an absolutely shocking revelation! The boy before them was an Angry Rich Boy™ who got his jollies picking on those he deemed were beneath him. "Spare me," Jo growled to herself, her face stony and body stiff as the fragile masculinity turned his attention to her and sent the Ravenclaw girl back to Hackney and her childhood. 

 

Had he said anything else she would've simply shrugged him off with a cruel laugh and a smirk. Had this been another time where Jo wasn't already filled with so much poisonous anger she would've let it go and gotten to her feet, leaving him with nothing but a comment about what he must be lacking in size with desperate need to validate himself with such pitiful words. 

 

But no, the universe was not on her side and as those three words dripped from malicious lips she saw red. 

 

No one.

 

There was a ringing in her ears, so loud and thunderous that if anybody had been talking to Jo she wouldn't be able to focus on them at all. Her tunnel vision took over with her anger and the girl forgot all decorum, all restraint, and launched at the smug arsehole opposite her. Plates, goblets and cutlery clattering to the floor as she pushed her full bodyweight onto him and forced him onto the ground. 

 

He wouldn't be calling her no one for much longer. She'd make sure he remembered. "Ready rich boy?" Snarling at him, Jo threw fists wild and frenzied and desperate to feel the force of her fist breaking his face. 

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Ryszard Althaus-Valerio

There weren’t many things that got to Ryszard (a big lie), but for some reason, Winston alluding to the few days he’d spent without a wand had him twitching. It wasn’t as if his parents couldn’t afford the extra charge to send a new one his way, but the idea that Winston had known about his failure and was now using it to taunt him was enough to slither under his skin. “Don’t make me break your glasses again, loser.” The anger was still simmering somewhere he couldn’t reach it, causing him to react on impulse.

 

Rolling his eyes, Ryszard raised his eyes to meet the girl’s gaze. It looked murderous, but that was usually the way most people looked at him. It didn’t mean anything to him, and he would have walked away and joined the rest of the Slytherins at their table if he hadn’t been in such a mood to start a fight and leave hurting. This hadn’t been part of the plan, but he was nothing if not reckless.

 

What he hadn’t been expecting, however, was a full-on assault, reminiscent of what had transpired just a week ago. The shock of the sudden movement was what made it unable for him to react, seeing nothing but Jo as he landed on his back. For a second, he really considered asking if the girl was also a werewolf- it wasn’t like they tended to discriminate. The words had barely formed on his lips when a fist came slamming into his face.

 

Oh, it was on.

 

He felt the anger that had been looking to spill fire earlier in the boys’ dormitory, and it felt like something had exploded inside of him. Abandoning all rational thoughts, he pulled back a punch of his own and let it fly, hoping to hit a similar mark. He put in every bit of emotion he’d been feeling earlier, when his very instincts had been screaming for him to hit Jaxon and get it over with. It hadn’t happened then, but it was definitely happening now.

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Josephine Tindall

Jo was five years old and at the playground, pushed to the ground and getting right to her feet and not stopping until she felt his nose crack. Unsatisfied when the responsible kids stepped in and sent her home. 

 

She was eight years old and outside the Synagogue with a bloody lip, clenched fists, screaming to be put down as her brother threw her over his shoulder before she could throw another punch. 

 

She had always been angry, even before her mothers death she walked around with a scowl on her face. Why don't you smile more? You look so pretty when you smile. Those words that would haunt her well into her teenage years. The anger was always bubbling underneath the surface and waiting for a release. She'd found a way to ignore it, ignore their words but sometimes she would boil over and the anger would spill. 

 

Her indifference was her armor and this snake had broken her down with three words.

 

Jo would hate herself for it later but now this was exactly what she needed. 

 

His fist connected with the side of her face and she fell backwards onto her tailbone. The Great Hall was spinning and a grin spread onto her lips as she gingerly touched her cheek for just a moment. The adrenaline coursed through her and Jo needed to get it out. She threw herself forward, left hand balling into a fist and aiming for his nose while the other reaching for his collar so she could shove him into the ground. "Oh it can punch. Cute," she spat the words at him, a sick satisfaction twisting in her stomach as she felt the crunch of cartilage underneath her fist and she aimed again. 

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Winston Hughes

“Try it.” Winston spit, his glare continuing to deeper towards Ryszard. Out of all the people to be roomed with at school, he had the misfortune of being teamed up with him. The Slytherin’s hand was itching to his pocket, to show him what would happen if he dared touch his glasses again. At least these days, Winston knew how to cast a Reparo Charm.

 

He bit his tongue. eyes glancing towards Jo. Winston knew what she was capable of and was excited to see what she would do to his tormentor. The fool would probably think a girl couldn’t land a good one on him. This girl though was raised in the rugged Hackney and was positively fuming, reminding him of his childhood cartoons, an animated volcano about to explode. The city that laid in her path would be destroyed. Typically, he might try to diffuse the situation but this was Ryszard, a boy who deserved a beating, and this was Jo, his friend desperate to give it to him…

 

The feelings of anger and helplessness that plagued him and his internalized safety wouldn’t allow him to intercede. As Jo leaped across the table, he smiled. Ryszard was going to get what he deserved.

 

Winston watched with satisfaction as Jo landed a punch in his roommate’s face. He was only disappointed to see the girl’s fist hadn’t knocked any teeth out. He wasn’t happy for long, Ryszard shaking himself off and reeling back with a punch of his own. In that moment, the Slytherin saw red. Fleetingly, he was weak no more. As Jo recuperated, the lanky boy finally made use of his long legs and hauled himself over the Ravenclaw Table.

 

For the first time in his life, Winston took his safety into his hands and hit back.

 

Jo had knocked the boy down already for him and within two steps, Winston delivered a satisfying kick to the boy’s side.

 

And it felt good.

 

So he did it again.

 

"How'd that feel, Twiggy?" With a look at Jo, he saw the girl in a new light. He finally started to understand her a bit more. "I can see why you like this so much. But this is your fight." And with that, Winston took a few steps back to watch what happened next, totally aware that he was just waiting to get reprimanded with a professor but unwilling to leave his friend Jo alone.

 

Still, a satisfied if winded smile sat on his lips.

Edited by Winston Hughes

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Ryszard Althaus-Valerio

There was something poetic to the way this was all playing out. Ryszard knew he would end up in the Hospital Wing after this, but he couldn’t seem to find the energy to care. He was sure @Adrina Althaus-Valerio was watching from somewhere in the crowd, just as much as he could hear @Xenia Lupu-Haidei‘s shouts of encouragement; for who, he had no clue. This was something he would have to ask her later when he wasn’t lying on the floor with a scar already forming on his face.

 

Everything came back to him in a rush, as his fist successfully connected with Jo’s face, allowing him to claim that small victory. It didn’t do anything to satisfy his hunger for a fight, however, and he was more than glad when the girl chose to continue rather than conceding. That would be boring; this was anything but boring.

 

One of Jo’s wayward punches slid past his nose and connected with his mouth instead, causing a rivulet of blood to form. He took that opportunity to spit whatever he had in his mouth in Jo’s face. She had grabbed hold of his collar, allowing him the leverage necessary to execute such a move. Then it was his nose, and it sent a searing pain straight through the rest of his face. Ryszard didn’t think the blood would ever stop running.

 

Cursing as colourfully as he knew how, Ryszard threw a punch, aiming for Jo’s side. How many body parts did they have, and how many times they could continously hit each other, he didn’t know, but each time something connected, it was a satisfying feeling and Ryszard felt himself getting angrier. It didn’t make sense, and he kept thinking he should’ve just punched Jaxon instead of creating such a spectacle, but he found himself maniacally grinning in the heat of the moment.

 

He couldn’t see himself, but Ryszard would bet it was a rather bloody smile.

 

Suddenly, there was a kick in his side from the completely wrong direction. Ryszard spied Winston of all people, and he did turn to glare at him then, only for the other boy to repeat his gesture, painfully splintering more than just the bone that was set there. “It feels like you’re a cheater,” he said, spitting in his direction, hoping some of the flying spit and blood landed on his robes, even as it caused him immense pain. He smirked wide at the other boy. “How’s that feel, loser?”

 

Not stopping the momentum, however, he turned his head right around and threw a punch in the direction of Jo’s face. Even if it didn’t land, at least he had @Ezmeralda de la Renta‘s support, as he could clearly hear her from farther down the table (he was ignoring @Jaxon Sinclair‘s voice mingling in with the spectators; he probably wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from breaking away and throwing a punch now).

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Josephine Tindall

Yes.

 

This was the feeling that Jo had been after as the weight of her punch connected with Ryszard's nose, crunching and breaking beneath her. It was an addictive feeling and it only spurred the angry girl on and pulled her first back again and went to throw another punch but then the Slytherin spat at her and Jo saw red (figuratively and literally) and  recoiled. "What the hell is wrong with you?" Disgust rose up in her chest and Josephine wiped her face. 

 

If he was going to be dirty then so would she. 

 

His fist hit her in the side,  winding her and she rolled onto her back and blinked up at the enchanted ceiling gasping for breath that didn't come. It was then that Winston stepped in and Jo was thankful for the reprieve. Rolling onto her side and pushing herself onto her knees, she caught Winston kicking Ry a second time and thought that the other Slytherin would give up then and there.

 

Instead he hit her again and Jo's hands flew to her face, seeing stars and tasting metallic all at once. She lowered her hands, blood staining them and she grinned. Her own bloody grin to match the boy on the ground beside her. "At least you're not a pathetic quitter." Jo almost admired his tenacity. 

 

Feeling the fatigue in her own body, her side aching and her vision blurry, she threw her weight at him. Hands finding his shoulders as she pushed him roughly to keep him on the ground.

 

Jo wasn't as big as him, but she knew that he would be just as exhausted as she was and the only thing keeping either of them going right now was adrenaline and foolish pride. What she did next was low and yet the girl wore a satisfied smirk on her bloodied lips as she brought her knee up and connected with his lower half, the part that would hurt him the most. It was the ace up her sleeve, the card she pulled when she wanted to best any of her brothers or the guys back home that were foolish enough to throw down with her. 

 

She waited for his reaction, getting to her feet and staring down at him. "Go on," Jo dared. "Try and forget about me now, arsehole." 

Edited by Josephine Tindall

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Ryszard Althaus-Valerio

It was almost certain that at least several bones in Ryszard's body were broken. There was blood on his face (you big disgrace) and he could already feel random parts of his skin bruising. His nose continued to send burning pain to the rest of his pain receptors, but he refused to give Jo the satisfaction of knowing she had brought him to such an ugly state. He wanted to reiterate the fact that she was, in fact, still a no one, but the blood in his mouth was making it rather difficult to talk at this point. He glared at her, putting as much venom into it as he could manage; the red marring Jo's face would do the rest.

 

The anger he had felt at the start of the fight had slowly ebbed away, leaving only indignation. It was doing wonders to his muscles, as everything seemed to slow down and he was about ready to give up. Of course, such a thought was completely unthinkable, and Ryszard banished it before it could fully form. Even if he passed out from the pain and the amount of blood he was currently losing, there was no way he would admit defeat before Jo.

 

Perhaps that exact same thought crossed Jo's mind, which gave way to what she did next.

 

There was a sudden whoosh of air as Jo's knee made contact with somewhere extremely sensitive. A burning pain, much like the pain he'd felt upon his nose breaking. but worse, started up from his groin and slowly travelled upwards. It was in his spine now, and Ryszard almost broke his vow to not show any sign of weakness. He gritted his teeth and breathed deeply through his mouth, coughing up some more blood as he did. Jo couldn't have hit any more below the belt.

 

Clearing his throat painfully and spitting out as much blood as was possible to allow him speech, he lay motionless, knowing even a single twitch would send another jolt of pain through his body. "You don't have the most memorable face," he said around the saliva in his mouth. "I'll remember you as Winston's friend, I guess." There wasn't another smile; it hurt too much to turn his lips. He would have to settle for an angry frown.

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Seeley Pichardo

Hadn't there already been enough violence? Hadn't there already been enough blood and spit and vomit spread across the floor of this hall?  

 

Seeley glared at the children, and they were children, carrying on in such a way by throwing fists at each other and adding bruises and cuts and scrapes to their classmates.  She wasn't going to sit there and let it carry on.  She didn't know what they were fighting over and quite frankly she didn't really care but she didn't want to watch it and the good thing was, with the badge pinned to her robes and the wand clutched in her right hand, she didn't have to.   

 

"Ebublio! Ebublio!" A pair of jinxes fired off at the two students who'd been tossing fists at each others faces as she approached them, aimed at catching each of them inside two very separate but still rather impenetrable bubbles.  They had proved rather useful in a number of situations and she was sure they would be useful now.   

 

"This is ridiculous we've just had an attack and now you're attacking each other?  You're lucky I only jinxed you and didn't light your backends up with a smiting hex." She huffed and folded her arms.   "Names and houses, both of you and it won't do you any good to lie because I find out everything anyway.  It's kind of my thing."     

Edited by Seeley Pichardo

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Josephine Tindall

His reaction was what she wanted but Jo still felt a sickness rise in her stomach. Injuries or her conscious? Whatever it was the girl shook her head, dark hair sticking to her sweaty and bloodied face. Laughing in disbelief as Ryszard spoke again.

 

Did he have a death wish? This idiot just wouldn't quit and despite his current position (not an ideal one) had to keep running his mouth. "You look pathetic." She had the upper hand now, despite the fatigue in her body she was the one standing and he was the one laying on the ground and she knew he wouldn't want to be standing up anytime soon. The thought made her smirk.  "I don't want you to know my name," she stared down at him, hard. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand Jo grimaced at the sight of blood. He'd split her lip and Jo was almost certain he'd broken her nose. "Keep lying though. I know you're not going to forget my face."

 

She wanted to hurt him again, kick him while he was down but she noticed the commotion in the hall. Other third years had gotten to their feet, cheering and yelling and Jo's eyes found Winston. 

 

Just as she made a move to grab him and make a beeline for the exit her body was suspended in...a bubble?

 

Oh right.

 

For a moment Jo forgot she was at 'magic' school and not back at her Muggle school were fights like this were generally ignored by authority figures. There would be repercussions and Jo gave the blonde prefect a smile and wave from the confines of her bubble prison. "Josephine Tindall and obviously," she nodded down at the Ravenclaw emblem on her sweater. "Ravenclaw." 

 

What were they going to do? Stick her in detention away from people? An ideal holiday. 

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Ryszard Althaus-Valerio

Shrugging didn’t really feel like an option at the moment (and he didn’t want to try) but if he could, Ryszard would be doing just that at Jo’s next words. A big part of him had stopped caring as soon as the thought of losing his sister had entered his head. He didn’t think he could explain all of that to Jo in the space of the next two seconds, and he also didn’t think he really wanted to. If there was a way to appear even more pathetic, it would be to start acting like the dramatic hero from a terrible Muggle film.

 

Instead, he stayed quiet; which was a first for Ryszard. All the fight had gone out of him, though he suspected it had something to do with that last hit, as he could still feel it stinging. It was also the fact that he realised too belatedly that he was fighting a losing battle. Even if Jaxon did keep his promise, Adrina wouldn’t let it go so easily.

 

He had a much harder battle to fight in the near future.

 

A new voice joined the fray, and at first he paid it no mind, thinking it was simply someone else in the crowd egging them on, but then there was a spark and he was suddenly inside a bubble. Moving his head, Ryszard’s eyes landed on a prefect, who had her wand pointed towards them and was still talking.

 

Now that his mouth was no longer filled with blood and slowly gagging him to an untimely death, Ryszard followed suit. “Ryszard Althaus-Valerio,” he mumbled, but loud enough to be heard through the bubble. “Slytherin,” he nodded, indicating the colours on his robes, even if they were slightly blood encrusted at the moment.

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Seeley Pichardo

Honestly with the way they'd been going at each other she'd expected more of a fight out of the two of them, but they gave up their names surprisingly easily and Seeley wondered if she was sounded more threatening then she looked.

 

Her eyebrow arched at the boys name and then she could almost groan, she just knew that this was going to come up in one of the next exchanges of letters she shared in her updates with @Professor Althaus.  She'd made a habit of avoiding his relatives for precisely this reason.   

 

"Right then, 5 points from both your houses and I'll let you wear those bruises and scrapes instead of healing them since you were so keen to earn them in the first place." She decided and then looked upwards at the ceiling of the great hall and then back at the whole group that had gathered.  "It's getting late you should get back to your common rooms.  Can you actually find buddies on your own or do I have to find you hands to hold too?"          

Edited by Seeley Pichardo

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Josephine Tindall

Five points, that was it? Jo wasn't a girl of house pride, she didn't march around waving the banner for Ravenclaw so this was nothing to her and as Seeley continued, she looked at Ryszard to gauge his reaction to the punishment but he looked...well Jo couldn't exactly put her finger on it but she wasn't about to give a crap and pry despite wondering what the hell was going on in his head to make him look so bloody miserable. It was best to part ways and forget the Angry Rich Boy™ existed. 

 

She was usually an expert at ignoring the existence of people like him. 

 

Used to wearing scrapes and bruises like a uniform, Jo wasn't too bothered by the lack of Healing taking place. She gingerly touched her nose again and winced, her hand recoiling immediately. She would need to see about that later though. 

 

"Late?" Jo couldn't help but laugh. "You mean late by Hogwarts standards. Given we're being held prisoner because of things that were out of our control." She knew it wasn't Seeley's doing and as a prefect she was merely following the rules and doing as instructed, but Jo found the curfew to be a violation of basic freedom. A friend once told her (a dodgy friend mind you) that if you were denied freedom of choice at an institution it was a prison. To Jo it seemed that powers at be at Hogwarts were covering their own arses. 

 

"Well you can be my buddy and hold my hand if you like," Jo grinned at Seeley. "I think I'll be right though. Thankfully we're going in opposite directions." 

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Ryszard Althaus-Valerio

Just five points? Really?

 

That seemed like a joke for what Jo had done to him. She at least deserved a detention. Ryszard realised, however, that the girl getting detention would implicate him as well, and the last thing he wanted right now was to spend more time with her. So he stayed quiet.

 

It was unfair, though, that Winston had got away without even a single verbal reprimand.

 

Moving carefully, Ryszard realised the lower part of his body was no longer in pain, so he rolled over slightly and gingerly got back on his feet. Now that he could actually feel his sides, Ryszard realised that nothing was broken in that general area. “You hit like a wimp,” he muttered in Winston’s direction, before ambling off, without even a second glance at either Jo or the prefect. He didn’t need to spend anymore time here in their miserable company.

 

Wait ‘til @Dax Gordon heard about this.

 

Ryszard out.

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