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Robbie Curtis

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Robbie Curtis

Set in term one, after the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw and Slytherin vs. Hufflepuff Quidditch matches.

 

It wasn't often that Robbie elected to eat meals at a table other than his house's own, unless @Eugenie Rosewood summoned him to the Ravenclaw benches instead of joining him and the rest of the Slytherins. However, a mere day after the second two houses had played their first Quidditch game of the season, the blond could be found walking towards the Gryffindor table at breakfast time. There, one Charlie Wheeler was sitting by himself as he fussed around with a piece of toast.

 

Robbie smirked to himself as he slid into the seat opposite his nemesis. He and the taller boy had developed quite the competitive rivalry since their first conversation during a fateful Transfiguration class with Professor Arrowood: one which had spiralled as a result of their success in making their respective Quidditch teams. The opportunity to catch Charlie alone after he'd been benched for Gryffindor's first game, then - particularly when Robbie had not only been the only first year to make Slytherin's initial lineup, but also the only first year to have made any house's lineup for their opening match - was therefore not one to be missed.

 

The eleven year old swiped the butter away from Charlie before he could take some for his toast. "So how does it feel to be a benchwarmer?" Robbie asked innocently. "Since - you know, I wouldn't know..."

Edited by Robbie Curtis

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Charlie Wheeler

Considering the fact that his entire soul had been crushed at the fact that he had spent the entirety of his first quidditch game on the bench, Charlie Wheeler was doing surprisingly well. That didn't mean that he hadn't spent all day leading up to the game moping in his dormitory or eating too much chocolate with @Tulip Blossom. But after spending the game watching from the sidelines, Charlie had spent the entire evening in the air after the field had cleared. It had cheered him up significantly just to know that he was still a part of the team and that he could still be useful later on.

 

The morning that Robbie Curtis came barging into his breakfast had been surprisingly a great one. He'd woken up before the usual morning call of his roommates stumbling around and had enough time to take his broom out onto the pitch before breakfast. Charlie was also expecting Tulip at any moment or even @Atticus Barnes. So, when he first saw the flash of green on the robes, he thought it was Atti taking the butter from him. His mouth dropped open in objection until his blue eyes met the familiar glare of his nemesis.

 

Robbie's comment cut deep - though the Slytherin probably knew that already - and Charlie's jaw clenched as he tried to hold back a curse in response. The Gryffindor's shoulders fell and he reached around where Robbie's hand was perched on the butter for the strawberry jam instead. 

 

"Morning," was all Charlie muttered in response. He was hoping that by ignoring Robbie's taunts, the Slytherin would either get frustrated or he would leave. Either way it was a win-win, "You should try the porridge. Looks good today."

Edited by Charlie Wheeler

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Robbie Curtis

Robbie was able to sense the Gryffindor's anger even before Charlie opened his mouth to speak, the boy's immediate inclination to grit his teeth and clench his jaw eliciting an amused laugh from the blond. It was obvious that his yearmate's benching during the first Quidditch game of the season had been a painful one - though it was probably completely deserved in Robbie's opinion, if Charlie's inadequacy at various other magical practices was anything to go by - and the short boy couldn't help but be thoroughly entertained by the circumstances. After all, his nemesis had insisted at their first meeting that he preferred flying to duelling, yet the one of them who'd spread his time was getting further in both activities. Robbie had progressed in duelling and had made the Slytherin Quidditch first team; Charlie had done neither of these things.

 

Clearly, Robbie Curtis was talented and Charlie Wheeler was not.

 

And the Gryffindor had thought he was better than Robbie? Seriously?

 

When Wheeler did open his mouth, however, his decision not to address the Quidditch game confused Robbie for a brief moment. Fortunately this did not deter him, and he continued on with his taunting in spite of Charlie's apparent wish for it to stop. "I'm not a porridge fan, myself," the first year replied. "But you didn't answer my question, benchwarmer. I said how does it feel? I wouldn't know."

 

Before the Gryffindor could reply, Robbie elected to draw out his torment by adopting a different approach. "If you're wondering what it's like to play on the first team, it's awesome," the Slytherin grinned. "I scored loads of goals and we won. But again, you'll probably never know. I bet you're a benchwarmer for the rest of your life."

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Charlie Wheeler

Charlie nodded in response to Robbie's decline of porridge and began to spread the jam onto his awaiting piece of toast. He counted the number of times it took him to swipe the knife over the bread until the jam was spread enough to almost reach the edges. He didn't even bother looking up as Robbie continued on with his own special brand of cruelty. The Gryffindor instead hummed in delight when the taste of strawberry hit his tongue and wrapped his attention away from the grating tone of his nemesis and to the crunch of the toast in his ears.

 

"That's nice," Charlie replied when Robbie had finished his little bout about the first game, "I'm glad you got to play. Slytherin must have been stoked to win."

 

Had Charlie been listening to what had been said? Not really. He felt it would hurt less if he didn't have to relive the feeling of the cold wood of the bench that he could feel even through his uniform. A uniform that he didn't really need. One that he never got to use. The roaring of the crowd that cheered for his teammates but not him. It'd been so hard to sit through the game knowing that he couldn't do anything to help. That he was useless.

 

Charlie bit into his toast again and tried to muddle through the pressing feeling on his chest. It sucked having to recognize your failures only to have them thrown back in your face by someone who had done better than you. It made him want to throw up. But instead he swallowed his bite of toast and took a swig of orange juice.

 

"It was a good game," Charlie's tone was light, even as his throat felt tight and he refused to look up from the strawberry seeds in the jam, "I think that all the teams have really good lineups this year. May the best get the cup, right?"

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Robbie Curtis

"Yeah, we were well happy to win. By pretty much a landslide too, wouldn't you say?" Robbie kept on bragging, having noticed Charlie's intention to try and focus on the toast instead. The Slytherin might have tried to whip it out of his nemesis' hands if he hadn't been worried about getting jam on his fingers or robes, but he decided to leave off for now in favour of continuing to taunt his yearmate. "Eighty points to thirty points. Hufflepuff are just pathetic," he instead continued with a smirk. "I bet we'll wreck Gryffindor even more when you guys play us next term, though. Well - when you're still sitting on the bench and I'm in the air scoring goals."

 

Charlie continued to eat his breakfast without so much of a glance at Robbie, who by this point was starting to become more irritated than amused by the boy's limited reaction. What was it with Wheeler and his uncanny ability to get under the Slytherin's skin?!

 

"I dunno if all the teams have good lineups. There's a first year on the Gryffindor lineup who got benched the first game, probably 'cause he's so pathetic," Robbie teased when Charlie finally said something back, even though the boy's eyes were still on his toast. Noticing as such, the Slytherin couldn't help but open his mouth to snap. "Oh for flack's sake, Wheeler. Face up to the bloody facts and look at me. You know I'm better than you, just admit it."

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Charlie Wheeler

The problem with talking to Robbie, Charlie was starting to realize, was that the Slytherin had a knack for grabbing your attention even when you didn't want to give it. His voice carried, the volume of his bragging almost deafening to Charlie as he tried to distract himself with his breakfast. He couldn't get Robbie out of his head. No matter how badly his words made him feel - and would most likely come back to haunt him - Charlie couldn't block the other boy from worming his way in.

 

"Yeah," Charlie replied nonchalantly to whatever claims Robbie was making. It was getting more apparent that this torture, this incessant need to ruing Charlie's day, was going to become a daily thing. He decided to ignore the comments about Gryffindor and Hufflepuff and just tried to amuse the Slytherin until he left. "That's nice, Curtis."

 

Finishing off his last bite of toast, Charlie picked up his fork and got to work on his sausage links. He dunked one into the runny yolk of his egg and was about to shovel it into his awaiting mouth until the air changed. Robbie snapped, the Slytherin's arrogant drawl changing into something that made the hair on Charlie's neck stand up.

 

"Jesus," Charlie muttered as he made immediate eye contact with Robbie, "There ya drama queen. Are you happy now? Forgive me for not paying attention to you in your time of need."

 

The Gryffindor rolled his eyes and went back to the most important matter at hand. His sausages. He took another swig of pumpkin juice before chowing down on one of the sausages. When he finished, he looked back up at Robbie, "If you don't really have anything else to say, you could leave. Not like I'm not thoroughly enjoying your company though. I do love our chats."

Edited by Charlie Wheeler

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