eventualities | [killian]

"So, what you want to do is follow this hallway to the end," Isaac began, leaning over so that he was closer to the chubby face of the lost first year and his little friend. "Then take a left, not a right, a left, at the fourth corridor." He sputtered, quickly enough that his sentence began to jumble together as he wiggled a finger in the direction he was suggesting. "You will find the stairs, follow them down, and you are back in the basements, little Hufflepuff." It was not the directions to the basement, but that was the point. Isaac kept the smirk from his face as the little wizard nodded, clearly trying to commit the tips to memory.

Standing in the middle of the otherwise relatively quiet corridor, Isaac tugged on his tie, ready to take it off now that classes had finished for the day. It was November, which meant even though it wasn't even time for dinner yet, the sun was already beginning its journey down the horizon. Straightening up a little when he thought he heard more footsteps, Isaac nodded again to the student. "Yes, go to the left; that is the way to the basements," He pointed down a hallway that would lead the young students further into the castle and further from their haven of a common room.

@Killian Buckley

"Hackney." Killian's voice cut through the stillness of the underclassmen's retreat. How long had Killian been behind the corner? Too long, probably. Too long clutching his books to his chest, trying to ignore the metal pin on his chest. Too hard to do - the prefect badge seemed to go hot when he ignored it, hot and burning like a brand. Not literally, definitely all in his head - but it was terrible to ignore regardless.

He hadn't actually been around the stone wall for all that long, actually - just long enough to catch the squeaky voices of the children and determine they certainly were foolish firsties and that Hackney was absolutely messing with them. Killian did not have any fondness for Isaac Hackney to begin with - not outright hate or anything, just a vague distaste for him from the brief time they roomed together in second year.

Killian stepped out finally, books tucked neatly in one hand now and his other hand in pocket in a feigned casual stance. His eyes drifted down the hallway - there were tinny sounds of distress as the kids began to get turned around. Killian sighed. "Do you have better things to do than mess with the eleven year olds?"

"Buckley," Isaac mimicked back at the Prefect, very much wanting to replace the B sound with an F sound, and rolled his eyes. Spinning around to see the other fifth-year headed toward him, that pin shining like a piece of armor, Isaac knew he was in for it. As if the Gryffindor squad wasn't bad enough, now Killian was a Prefect too. The Slytherin would never understand how Jae got along with all of them; it didn't make sense.

"Do you have better things to do than mess with the eleven year olds?" Shrugging off the question, Isaac pulled his tie loose, it was after class, and he was probably going to hang either way for picking on the first years. "Not really?" He offered and shrugged again.

"They have to figure this shit out sooner or later; I'm just speeding up the process," Isaac meant both how to navigate the castle and the social hierarchy of Hogwarts. First-year Ravenclaws had no business asking a fifth-year Slytherin how to get back to safety.

Aaaaaaand there was Hackney blatantly breaking dress code. "Christ, Hackney," Killian muttered, "can you at least pretend to be embarrassed to be caught? Jesus." Killian did not like Isaac in the best of circumstances, and now it seemed like the other boy was just trying to tick him off.

They have to figure this shit out sooner or later; I'm just speeding up the process, the Slytherin reasoned, smarmy and slick. Killian groaned audibly. If only he could just dock points and move on. Unfortunately, nobody gave Prefects that power. "This is already going to be a write-up to your Head of House, can you at least pretend to be sorry?" He could already anticipate Isaac's answer - no, absolutely not. He reached slowly for the pocket in his robes - Killian was pretty sure this interaction was going to end in a writeup, at best.

"Why would I pretend to be something I'm not?" Isaac was intelligent enough to know he should have just shut his mouth, but knowing the right thing to do and doing it were vastly different things. He was already in trouble, so what was the harm in seeing it through, and maybe making Killian uncomfortable in the process.

"I thought your boy-wonder fixed the world so no one would have to do that anymore?" Being a pureblood and a prat, Isaac had no qualms bringing up blood heritage to prove a point. Not that he much cared about the fact that his mother and father were both magical, as far as he was concerned, his mum worked too much, and his absentee dad was a dick; that was all there was to know. Still, he brought it up anyway and dared Killian to respond with a quick raise of his eyebrow.

Isaac knew the write up was coming and that it would lead to detention or docked points, but he was in too deep to back down now. By some logic, the teenager had convinced himself that if he was going to be punished, he might as well do something worth getting into trouble for.

"Boy-wonder?" Killian asked, stupidly, not putting together who the hell Hackney was talking about. The taunting twitch of the other boy's eyebrow was met with just a blank stare from Killian (Martin Luther King Jr? Nelson Mandela? Malcom X) until it dawned on him.

"What -- why --" Killian shook his head. "What the hell does Harry Potter have to do with you being a git to the little kids?" In the back of his head, the pieces were being put together slowly, his choice of pretend and Isaac's asshole pureblood tendency painting a picture Killian was hellbent on ignoring. It shouldn't matter! Killian had enough problems as a Black boy in England to begin with, there shouldn't also be extra weird magical blood quantum to deal with and Hackney should be keeping it out of his mouth anyway.

Killian whipped out the notebook in his pocket, scribbling hastily on two slips of paper. "Right, that's one write-up for bullying and one write-up for indulging in hate-speech and one detention total." The hate-speech one was a bit of a stretch, and it disgusted Killian to know that it would likely not carry weight with anyone in Slytherin house, but he had to document it anyway. He tore off and folded the papers in slips -- they stood up on their own and began to float to the Slytherin head of house office.