This is merely the beginning... (Ashlyn)

[Damon Graas R5]

Damon perused his book quite disinterestedly. It had given him all the info it would already and now he had it open just for show mainly. His eyes moving lazily from side to side, his real attention was on the argument he was listening on. Leandra had been theorethicising on fairy-tales behind a row of books. Or at least had been until recently, cause she was now in a fiery argument with some kid from Gryffindor, who mocked her interest. They were starting to get a bit loud though, which would attract Pince’s attention. With a sigh Damon heaved himself to his feet to go and break the fight apart. Leandra could hold her own, but this was the last time to get a detention. It was full moon tonight which meant that they would stay up, and in a less frequented room their father had showed them would play cards and Monopoly and keep Morgana company turning her change. Having family poker-nights – on full moon to add mystery – kept the rest of the school from getting too nosy and effectively hiding Morgana’s secret.

Stepping around the corner of the shelf Damon mentally blessed his timing. Mumbling a quiet “Experlliarmus” Damon caught the wand of the 4th level Gryffindor while Leandra looked up startled, from where she had stood side-ways, clearly having discarded the guy for her own opinion. “And they say the Slytherins are vicious,” Damon commented quietly to Leandra before turning and arching an eye-brow at the Gryffindor, being careful to remember the face. He’d ask about him from Jared and Gabriel later on. They might have had classes with the kid. “Not a smart thing picking fights in the library, before a prefects nose. What are you waiting for here now? Pince’s attention for a week of detention?” Damon asked quietly with a sugary tone, throwing the kids wand out of the open window of the library with a lazy flick of his wrist, “I don’t even have your wand.” The kid took one look at Damon’s face but the sound of approaching footsteps and ran for it after a flickering glance at the open window.

Hiding his wand with a swift movement, both Damon and Leandra smiled serenely as madam Pince rounded the corner. The sight of an older brother helping his sister pack up quills and books brought a smile even on the thin lips of the old librarian as she moved on with a soft smile. “You should stop looking for trouble. Not everyone likes fairy-tales as much as you. And as you aren’t studying, scram. The place is full enough as it is,” Damon stated with a half-hug to Leandra who beamed and wrapped her arms around his waist for quick strong hug before skipping away, turning only to grind at Damon. “Perhaps. But at the very least I have my brothers to take over the part of the brave hero. Even though after you rescue the maiden form herself, she can take on the world herself, no? Loved the touch with the wand though. Very dignified, very classy. Ten out of ten in style,”Leandra blew an air-kiss at Damon and with a skip to her step left the library.

Shaking his head with a smirk on his face Damon stepped back and returned to his table, picking up his book again. Before he could recommence his charade of reading he was interrupted again. Damon eyed the fingers tapping on the table-top for a moment before calmly letting his eyes slide upwards. An other fifth year. Damon shifted through some information in his before faintly recalling the name Ashlyn Swallow. A pureblood even if he remembered correctly. He looked at her calmly and squarely in the eyes. There were a few options why he was disturbed. A feat that occurred rarely as he was a Graas – and therefore known to be tempered – and it generally wasn’t wise to disturb Ravenclaws who were studying. Or she was wanting tutoring, wanted the book Jared was reading, or at worst case had seen Damon flinging the wand out of the window. Not a very prefect-y thing to do, but blood came first. “Swallow,” Damon stated with a tilt of his head, not saying anything else. She would reveal her reason for coming over soon enough.

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

Ashlyn placed the bow of the violin on her bed gently before grabbing her wand to block the noises coming from the other side of the door. The resulting silence brought a pleased half-smile to her face. Honestly, those girls were so selfish; Ashlyn smirked to herself as she switched into a different tune. She was a talented musician and deserved private time in which to practice. The Gryffindor dorms just so happened to be the place in which she had decided to spend a few hours practicing in. Really, Ashlyn sighed mockingly, those girls just didn’t know talent when they heard it. She had been trained since childhood by one of the best violinists, pianists and guitarists to ever walk along London’s streets and they had the nerve to bang against the door and yell at her to get out and go practice somewhere else. It would take roughly half an hour for one of them to get annoyed enough to fetch McGonagall, Ashlyn calculated mentally as she shifted her bow to play a lighter-hearted tune that had been her Uncle’s, and therefore her, favourite at one time. In half an hour she wouldn’t be there. Even now, she was carefully packing away her violin and unlocking the door in a whisper. “Have fun, fools,” Ashlyn murmured mockingly, slinging the longer strap of her violin case across her back securely as she floated down to the ground from Gryffindor tower.

McGonagall would be furious at the Gryffindors again after she got up to the tower and discovered that they had apparently been lying to her. Oh, what a wonderful day this was turning out to be. The sun was shining – almost, they were in Scotland after all and Scotland wasn’t exactly sunny at this time of year – her irritating, squealing dorm-mates were going to get detention and...she had a Charms essay to finish. Maybe the day wasn’t quite as wonderful as she had almost believed it might be. Oh well, the day had suffered nothing that a quick hex on a particularly annoying person wouldn’t fix. As her parents had once attempted to scream at her during their annual argument, Uncle James would be ashamed of her and her vicious, temperamental behaviour. What absolute nonsense. Ashlyn snorted lightly as she made her way back into the castle, floating the broomstick – whose was that anyway? She’d find out tonight when the girl blamed her for it, she supposed – over to the Quidditch pitch absent-mindedly. James Ellison had been the one to shape her into the ‘vicious, temperamental, spoiled child’ she was today. It was as close to a fact as anything that ever came from her parents mouths. Ashlyn had yet to figure out exactly how her parents knew anything of her behaviour or personality when they hadn’t spent any longer than five minutes with her but some mysteries just weren’t meant to be solved.

Being at Hogwarts was much better than living in an empty house like she did over the summer, Ashlyn was forced to admit. She might have been bribed into talking the Sorting Hat into making her a Gryffindor, and how the Hat had protested at her decision, but Hogwarts was as close to a home as she had at the moment. It was hardly the mostly-loving home James had built for them in her childhood but it was still more than her parents had ever offered her. The table she chose for herself in the library had been recently evacuated by a gaggle of younger Gryffindors, leaving Ashlyn to wonder if there was anything wrong with that area of the library. One of the shyer looking Gryffindors obediently told her why they had moved in such a hurry and Ashlyn shooed her along gently. So, a prefect found it clever to bully younger years. It was with an annoyed sigh that Ashlyn got to her feet, not taking her violin case off her back since she didn’t trust the other students not to get curious, and wandered over to the table the younger girl had pointed at. She didn’t particularly like her housemates but it would be in her best interests to defend them since the person who had lost his wand was the little brother of one of her dorm-mates.

As she watched the young girl – third year, if her guess was accurate – hug the boy before taking her leave, Ashlyn’s eyebrows rose inquisitively. Damon Graas and who she presumed was one of his little sisters. Not a good enemy to make, if she had to make any at all besides her housemates. Wasn’t she hated enough already? When she had his attention, Ashlyn held his gaze for a moment before her lips involuntarily quirked into an odd smile. “Play nice with the younger ones, Damon Graas. Prefects don’t stay prefects very long if idiotic, overprotective sisters complain about unfair treatment to their younger brothers.” Ashlyn nodded courteously and turned away to browse through the books on the nearest shelf, feeling that her debt to her dorm-mate had been paid off already.

[Damon Graas R5]

Damon continued looking at Ashlyn with the same expression – mildly interested, a bit bothered, some desire to be left alone again – even after her statement. Even as he had to force himself to stop feeling the silly rush of victory over the fact Ashlyn had turned away from looking directly at him first. He would have to analyze the situation first. So it was about the wand-deal. The Gryffindor snitched. Foolish of him. It would mean he was running into a few problems during the next week. But Ashlyn hadn’t stated any facts so how much did she know exactly? And she obviously didn’t seem to know – or care – about the fact the boy had had his wand drawn, his sister hadn’t.

“I’m afraid I must admit, I don’t understand what you’re saying,” Damon stated calmly, laying his book on the table and his arms next to it and he smiled disarmingly at the girl. His family didn’t jokingly call him Politician without a reason. “I’m in the library to study, not play. And has some prefect treated someone wrongly? I’m afraid that’s a problem you would then have to turn to some professor or the Head Boy or Girl, presuming you are sure you interpreted the situation correctly.” Damon had chosen his table for a reason. It was lined with different yearbooks at one side, meaning that few people came here. Why, Damon wasn’t sure. Maybe the pressure of previous years, stress of needing to be more successful than one’s class-mates? Whatever it was, Damon himself wasn’t bothered. And at current case it did come in handy. Standing Damon stepped around Ashlyn and picked up a few books, whispering the world Swallow to them and watching the pages flip open. Showing the open book to to Ashlyn Damon smiled calmly: “And according to this, you are an only child, so your story of younger brothers remains quite puzzling for me. Would you please clarify your meaning…” Damon paused on purpose as he put the yearbook back in it’s place before glancing apologetically at the girl as he sat again, “I’m afraid we have never been properly introduced, so you’ll have to pardon me for having forgotten your name? Would you be so kind and rectify the situation by reminding me?”

The girls reaction would tell a lot now. Both as to whether she would tell what she knew… and also how she would react to Damon not being aware of her name. Well, he had recalled it – information WAS power – but it was a subtle way of showing the girl she didn’t move in the same circles he did. And as Damon faintly remembered from somewhere, she didn’t seem to socialize too much with their year-mates, nor did her fellow Gryffindors seem to pick her as their desk-mate from the start. She would either take it as a joy that someone cared about her name like this, or a subtle reminder they were from slightly different circles. “So if you had some problem with some prefect, I believe professor Flitwick should be in his classroom helping some students with their wand-work. Or perhaps you’d like me to help you to the Hospital Wing. I’m sure madam Pomfret would have something, if you weren’t feeling completely well?” Damon spread his arms and smiled politely at the girl, “Afraid I didn’t understand your problem well enough to help however. I do beg your pardon.”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

Ashlyn heard the boy speak to her again and rolled her eyes. No wonder she had stopped doing nice things for people without expecting anything in return. Her dorm-mate and the brother were definitely going to owe her a debt after this. A large one. Repayable only by leaving her alone for the rest of her time in Hogwarts. “You don’t understand what I’m saying?” Ashlyn widened her eyes in mocking surprise. “How unusual. I’ve never met a Ravenclaw who admitted he didn’t understand something before.” His smile only made her derision toward him rise. She hated people like him, who seemed to think that a smile was all it took to make girls swoon into their arms and forget everything. Despite her reluctance for an argument, Ashlyn could almost feel the adrenaline start to speed through her body as a small smile curved her lips.

It was tempting to yawn during Damon’s recitation of the correct procedures to go through in the case of a prefect acting irresponsibly but that wasn’t subtle nor was it the type of action Ashlyn preferred to take in such situations. One reaction she couldn’t stop before it happened was instinctively stepping back when Damon came closer. She didn’t trust people and she especially didn’t like males. Deceitful, vicious creatures, males were. Well, that was a bit exaggerated, even for Ashlyn. It was the charm that Damon had tried to show that warned her against him and made her more prepared to follow the argument through to the finish. “I never said that the younger brother was mine. Learn to read between the lines or maybe just open your eyes. I didn’t share any resemblance to that kid,” Ashlyn suggested coolly. She wasn’t overly talented in the area of verbal fighting, which left her at a disadvantage since the boy obviously had a quick mind and a quick tongue to accompany it. If only Gryffindors were quicker to use their brains rather than their wands, Ashlyn thought irritably, damning her luck for being born to parents who would blackmail their child into demanding to be put into a completely unsuitable house. This time, her eyes were wary and guarded as she observed Damon, having learnt that he had more experience with arguments than her. “Oh my, is your memory lacking as well as your eyes and your brain? How did you ever get sorted into Ravenclaw? You might not have noticed it, but my name was written across the top of the pages you just pointed out to me when you proved what I already knew, that I didn’t have a brother. My parents aren’t quite cruel enough to make two children go through the same lifestyle.”

Ashlyn shrugged, deciding to turn the conversation towards something that she did have experience in: blunt truth and an uncaring attitude. “Switch off whatever pathetic charm you’ve inherited from your family, Graas, because it doesn’t work on me and I don’t care to suffer through your worthless attempts at mastering it. I didn’t see what caused you to throw the kids wand out of the window and I don’t care. You could’ve snapped it and I still wouldn’t care. Why should I? The Gryffindors mean nothing to me other than an annoyance and people who intrude when I’m trying to practice and improve.” Ashlyn tapped the case’s strap slung across her chest in emphasis. “They annoy me because they don’t like me. If people saw me trying to defend a younger Gryffindor but being cruelly cut down by the sharp tongue of the person who was being mean to said Gryffindor in the first place then they would perhaps be willing to give me a bit more time to myself.” For the first time, her smile was amused and completely open. “I’m selfish, I admit it. You were the means to an end. Now can I leave without you trying to hex me for interrupting you?”

[Damon Graas R5]

“The very definition of education is acquiring knowledge. How can I learn something, if I’m not sure of what I’m yet to understand?” Damon parried the mocking attack offhandedly, brushing it aside with ease. Eyeing the girl with some interest, Damon leaned back in his chair to be more comfortably and relaxed. Not only did it make him seem more in control – he was currently getting the edge of sitting like someone giving an audience anyway – but it never did hurt to enjoy oneself. And this girl was intriguing. She knew where she stood and burst it all out, not holding any card a secret it seemed. Both a strength and a weakness. This might even be interesting.
“My apologies for insulting,” Damon stated, letting some coldness flash and show in his eyes as he looked Ashlyn over, “But not all siblings look similar. A pardonable mistake, I would think.”

So the girl attempted to hide what she thought but didn’t have much practice at it probably. Gryffindors, full of rash bluntness. At least it suited most of them. Better than trying to compete with the tactfulness of those more at home in the skill. Mentally marking the comment about lifestyle in the back of his head for further pondering Damon smiled almost ferally at the girl: “My pathethic charm? Why, but why were you jumping if I shifted to get up in order to pick up a book. And here I wasn’t even trying to seduce anyone, so obviously you must be influenced by something… Oh, and do not say repulse. That would be a far too boring cliché. Ashlyn.” Or was the girl someone who enjoyed inflicting pain on themselves? Some bad memory? Why, this girl was proving to be quite interesting. And Damon wasn’t really even that worried anymore after the girl had blunted it all out. “I believe you’re at a loss here. All I did was merely break up a fight before the younger students would damage any of the precious books,” Damon tilted his head and smiled coldly, “And I do doubt the situation was favourable enough for your dear house-mate for it to ever be discussed further than the spot it took place in.” After all. How could a Gryffindor admit having pulled a wand on someone turned away with the purpose to hex? No, he kid wouldn’t dare to speak. His social reputation wouldn’t survive it.

Damon didn’t move his eyes from Ashlyn’s, having see the violin case earlier already. But even while keeping eye-contact he gave a mocking bow in his seated position: “Oh, but anything I can do for your service. Perhaps you’d like to take an argument to the center of the library or to the Great Hall, because more public would certainly serve your purposes better. Perhaps I should let you slap me? Or a hex on your poor Self, to show the selfless sacrifices you make for your house pride? Oh, I would feel so taken advantage of.” Damon looked at the girl pensively as he reached out his legs in a purely male show of confidence, crossing his legs at the ankles. “I believe you have nothing to gain from talking to me in a secluded corner of a library, so my-my-my, that does raise the question why exactly you decided to come over here?”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

Maybe she didn’t hate her parents quite so much as she thought, Ashlyn laughed mentally, a tinge of something bordering on hysteria colouring her thoughts. True, her parents had bribed and forced her into making the Hat – that damned Hat which had bent before her will with only trifling protests deserved to be cursed, Ashlyn thought vengefully – put her in Gryffindor. But Gryffindors as a whole left her alone and didn’t make her struggle in a battle of words which she could never win. By Merlin, Ashlyn snickered to herself quietly, she might have gone insane if she had been forced to deal with people like Damon every day. If all Ravenclaw males were like him then she counted herself lucky for being an unwilling Gryffindor. “It was hardly an insult,” Ashlyn waved his insincere apologies away with a dismissive flick of her hand. “Siblings may not always look similar but there is generally a family resemblance. Unless, of course, said sibling was adopted in which case there would be no resemblance except perhaps in personality and behaviour.”

“Oh yes, you’re so right. I’m one of your secret stalkers. Kiss me now,” Ashlyn deadpanned nonchalantly. “Now, moving back into reality – that’s the place where not everyone falls over in a swoon when you smile, just in case you forgot – did you ever consider that I wasn’t exactly expecting you to bounce up and grab a book? Perhaps I have a nervous disposition and your attitude made me think that you were standing to strangle me. I have quite a vivid imagination so it’s quite possible. On the other hand, maybe I really am one of your fan-girls and I had to force myself to remain still rather than tackling you to the floor and ravishing you in the library.” No, Ashlyn scolded herself, don’t encourage his delusions. He might actually get the impression that she harboured some sort of interest in him and then she would be forced to take action. Action not of the kissing variety but of the bodily harm variety, just to clarify. “That boy had friends who saw what you did to his wand. It wasn’t hard to pull one of them aside and ask why they were rushing out of the library as though a demon was after them.” Ashlyn looked over Damon, a smile quirking the edge of her mouth upwards. “Perhaps they weren’t much wrong.”

It almost physically hurt to give him a small bit of respect for not letting his eyes wander since Ashlyn hadn’t quite considered the possible consequences when she had gestured to that part of the strap. Damn it but he was meant to be rude and insulting. She didn’t particularly, or at all, want his attention but neither did she want to grudgingly respect him for displaying less of the male tendencies she had expected due to her dislike of men as a whole. “I’d have to disinfect my hand after slapping you and I’d rather not since I do rather enjoy playing the violin and piano and a sore hand would be rather detrimental. And as lovely as it would be to let you use me for target practice, I’ll have to decline. Whether the idiots I’m forced to share a House with agree or not, I’ve done my good deed for the rest of the year after I had to deal with you.” Ashlyn raised an eyebrow slowly, taking sadistic joy in thoughts of tipping the chair over and leaving him on the floor but trying not to let her thoughts show on her face. “I suppose that, since this corner of the library is rather secluded, I must be one of the girls swooning at your feet. Kiss me senseless.” Ashlyn rolled her eyes, her derision evident on her face.

[Damon Graas R5]

“There are also born siblings that don’t look similar,” Damon waved his hand, brushing the argument about siblings aside. It wasn’t that meaningful. Besides he had much more intriguing aspects to study here in this girl than an argument about genetics and families. Damon smiled with mild satisfaction as if he was staring at a new promising potion-recipe or experiment. And the girl evidently did have a vivid imagination. Strangle her? Either this girl did have a nervous disposition or some really bad history behind her. “Sorry, no strangling. It would be too hard to get rid of the body right now,” Damon stated while peering thoughtfully at the girl’s face, “And no, I wasn’t expecting you to swoon. Girls do that over my brothers. I don’t find someone drooling on my shoulder nearly as endearing as they seem to.”

So the kid had friends. Figured. He tried to show off, didn’t work. And of course Gryffindors had to travel in packs. Damon sneered at the thought, not paying attention to Ashlyn for a moment as he calculated his possibilities. At least Ashlen herself wasn’t going to be a threat: “Well, pulling a wand on a turned away unarmed younger year is hardly heroic enough for a Gryffindor to willingly admit it. I do think it is a calculated risk and one that I will not have to regret.” Damon focused his full attention on Ashlyn again, knowing full well that such attention made most people uncomfortable. The edge in her voice warned kept him wary though, at least until he would know the reason for the ire to be in her tone, so he kept his eyes focused on her face. Taking in the girl’s blond hair, as opposed to his own black crown, and her pale-blue eyes as opposed to his own steely grey, in contrast he perhaps even did seem darker and therefore by association also the meaner one. Letting some amusement flash into his eyes Damon grinned at Ashlen, even as he shockingly enough shared information willingly: “I’m afraid mother protested against dad’s suggestion to name me Demon. She didn’t decide to stray very far from the theme though as you can see. If it comforts you, then my middle-name is originated from the Greek centaur Cheiron, who, according to legends spreading about him, was the offspring of the Greek God Cronus, who, in turn, wasn’t a very popular fellow with the whole eating his children business. And perhaps in a series of muggle books, Wheel of Time, on of the Dark Lords shares my middle name. It could also be speculated that it has a connection to Charon, the dark ferryman of the river Styx. Does all that sound dark and forbidding enough for you?”

Disinfect her hand. Damon nearly rolled his eyes. Such shame to have run into a feminist, even if the interest in piano and violin did deserve a small tick on the positive sides of the girl. “So do let me understand – do you have a general distaste for me or for males in general? And I just happen to the guy on who you pour out your disappointment over a boyfriend of sorts?” Nothing irked people looking for a fight off more than forgiving them and nothing was a better armor against sarcasm than naivety and oblivion. Damon smiled dazzling at Ashlyn and in a parody of his brothers casual movement exaggerated fixing his hair: “Oh, but you are still here after all. Perhaps I should secure my chair so we wouldn’t topple over in case you do decide to pounce and ravish me right here, right now. Do give me a few moments to decide, whether I’d care to spend a few minutes of my time kissing you or not, if you will?”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

Perhaps what was even more annoying than being trapped in an argument – yes, trapped; she had given him several openings in which he could end the argument and the irritating boy had used none of them to her advantage – was the small thought growing in her mind that maybe she was actually...enjoying herself. Not the company, Ashlyn still maintained that Damon was an annoying jerk who thoroughly deserved a resounding slap or five to teach him some humility, but the exchange of words was rather interesting even if the boy did look at her like he wanted to pull her to pieces and discover how she worked. It would have been unnerving if her parents didn’t study her like that every time they were unfortunate enough to see each other. “Now you’re implying that I’m too heavy to throw out of the window? Well aren’t you just the most charming person I’ve ever met.” Ashlyn jested sarcastically, almost tempted to glance down at herself as if to check that she hadn’t suddenly gained a lot of weight.

An interested smile flickered about her mouth for a few moments as Ashlyn shifted forward slightly. What an intriguing idea. She didn’t particularly care if his story was true or not – what the hell did truth matter when living in the real world? – but what it would do for her if she accepted it as truth. “Yeah, I could work with that,” Ashlyn murmured softly, a calculating light shining in her eyes. “A Ravenclaw fervently defending a younger student against a Gryffindor bully, what a great idea. And she’ll be so concerned about her younger brother’s reputation that she won’t even question it in case it’s true.” For once, her eyes weren’t guarded against Damon’s verbal attacks but rather considering him as a possible...ally of sorts. Not permanently, because Ashlyn preferred to work alone at all times, but certainly for the moment. “No, not nearly dark and forbidding enough. You’ll simply have to change your name if you plan to continue with the dark and forbidding line of business. Perhaps you could sell fluffy rabbits in the mean time. Yes,” Ashlyn nodded to herself thoughtfully. “Rabbits suit your current look since you’re neither dark nor forbidding.”

“Don’t feel special; all of your gender disgusts me when you hit puberty.” Ashlyn snapped crossly, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. Why couldn’t she have interrupted a nice, obedient Ravenclaw who would work with her for a few moments so that she could properly plan the downfall of her annoying dorm-mate and her younger brother. If the kid truly had been picking on a younger student – a student Damon knew well, Ashlyn would presume since he hardly struck her as a nice, helpful type of guy – then he would thoroughly deserve it even more than his sister did. “Oh, you’re so right,” Ashlyn sighed unhappily, utilising the acting skills she had perfected over the years to appear dismal. “I was so heartbroken over a member of your pathetic gender that I decided to replace him with someone even more annoying and likely to break my heart. Aren’t I just so smart?” Dropping the act, Ashlyn stared at him coolly. “I don’t particularly care if you decide that you’d like to kiss me. You might not have noticed, but I’m not interested.”

Considering the matter thoroughly closed, Ashlyn turned sharply, fully intending to not be drawn back into the argument, and promptly tripped over a bag that had been carelessly left by its owner. Her wrist gave a sharp cracking noise as she tried to brace her fall and Ashlyn alternated between angrily cursing her luck – how was she meant to practice and become good enough to make the memory of her Uncle proud if she had a broken wrist? – and fighting back the soft whimpers trying to bubble up in her throat. It hurt to move her arm but Ashlyn rose to her feet shakily, her face pale from the shock and pain, cradling her arm to her chest protectively. “What a way to make a dramatic exit,” Ashlyn muttered quietly, eyeing her bags and pondering if she could use her wand in her left hand to float them down to the Hospital Wing with her.

[Damon Graas R5]

“And you’re reading out assumptions I never said aloud,” Damon parried with a mild frown. Not an other one of those girls who were too afraid to eat more than low-fat cheese-cube and a drop of dew. “But haven’t you noticed that it is a tower? A falling body just might attract attention. And I wouldn’t want to harm some innocent by stander who might happen pass below.” And just when the girl had started seeming interesting, she had to go and ruin all the fun. Shameful. Damon eyed quite carelessly as the girl smiled. Appearantly she could scheme some, but she was far from the level needed to play without flaws. “So glad I could be the part of a pawn in your power-schemes,” Damon drawled sarcastically as he glanced at his book still spread on the table, before looking back and letting Ashlyn stare at him calculatingly now.

“Sorry, rabbits won’t do. I do get hungry at times. Will kittens or puppies with pink bows work?” Damon asked offhandedly, even as he tilted his head in recognition. The girl got one more small tick for having a sense of humour, if she chose to call on it. And a male-hater. Damon really didn’t understand the point. There was a definite need for both genders, there were good and bad folks among both girls and guys. And really? Puberty? Everyone went through that phase. “My gender? Am I a shock for you then, for not trying to take advantage of you just here, just now then?” Damon asked with some irritation in his voice, “Just because we’re male, doesn’t mean we can’t think beyond our bodily urges.” Damon looked at Ashlyn with some irritation visible in his eyes for a moment, before shaking his head and deciding that it was just not worth the trouble. Turning the page of his book the noise of Ashlyn stumbling and falling sent Damon leaping to his feet.

Stepping around the corner of the table Damon had to keep a firm grip on the edge of the table to stop himself from helping the girl up, especially as he had heard the all too familiar sound of bone breaking as well. But it would probably be safer to not touch her, just yet. Even if it nearly physically pained Damon to see the situation and the paleness of the girl’s face. “Hei, that didn’t sound too good. Let me see, I’m quite good at patching up broken bones, even...” “Don’ touch!” Damon raised a stopping hand and Rister paused in mid-step, glancing curiously between Damon and Ashlyn. Damon shook his head firmly to Rister, even while he lowered his hand: “Don’t touch. I’ll handle this. Go keep Leandra company. Fourth years. Two plus. We’ll go over your potions during the poker-night today.” “Today? Damn. I was going to beat Gabriel finally tonight in Monopoly,” Rister complained and throwing a meaningful glance at Ashlyn before the brothers exchanged a quick glance. Rister turned around and left whistling some merry tune, ignoring madam Pince warning and sauntered out.

Who needs enemies if your own family can create volatile situations at every moment, Damon thought with a slight grimace before turning to see Ashlyn again, who was still cradling her broken wrist. Rister was very good at patching broken bones and cuts and whatever else – they all were really – but just this once it might be better if he acted like a calm prefect and escorted Ashlyn to madam Pomfret. “Looks like you’ll get your show of your martyr self with a broken wrist after all,” Damon commented with a self-ironic smirk, discovering that he didn’t even care nor mind it much. Shifting his weight slowly, so as not to receive a currently undeserved slap, Damon picked up the bags Ashlyn had been staring at presuming they were hers and slung the items over his shoulder. Giving one more smirk at Ashlyn Damon nodded towards the door: “Try not to faint on the way. I am a prefect, but I’m quite sure neither of us would enjoy the idea of me having to carry you to the Hospital Wing.”

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

“Forgive me my low self-esteem,” Ashlyn drawled slowly.”Not that things have to be said out loud to be true or said to be true by other people. Not all of us are lucky,” Ashlyn added cryptically. It was only a guess that Damon had a better family life than her, but it was probably true and she didn’t even need his arrogance or self-assured nature to make that guess. Very few children had experienced a childhood quite like hers. “It’s not exactly a power play,” she corrected gently. “Simply a gamble taken in the hopes of getting a more peaceful life for myself. But I suppose that, yes, you were a rather useful pawn; what do you want, a cookie?”

“Kittens might work,” Ashlyn nodded agreeably. “But not pink. It might ruin your reputation if you ever decide to become one of the dark and forbidding people. Red might work,” she offered with a grin. Well, who would’ve thought that dark and forbidding demon Damon could be amusing when he wanted to be. “It’s not my fault that males have failed to prove themselves as anything but scum,” Ashlyn scowled darkly, fifteen years of repressed hurt glaring out at him. “They’re never there when they’re needed or wanted but they’re always ready to criticise.” She hadn’t thought before she spoke and had revealed more than she had intended, but she didn’t regret it. James was a bit too dead to be used against her and her parents meant nothing to her just as she meant nothing to them so there was no way she could be hurt through them either.

The swollen wrist was throbbing, sparks of pain shooting up her arm whenever she breathed. Since not breathing wasn’t really an option, Ashlyn opted to keep her breathing shallow to avoid jarring her wrist any further. The pain was excruciating, especially since she had never broken any bones before, and it was only stubborn pride that kept her tears from falling. A male voice caught her attention and Ashlyn’s head shot up, watching the new arrival warily. It was annoying to realise that she actually felt grateful to Damon for getting rid of the older boy. “Thanks,” Ashlyn mumbled softly, looking up at Damon and then letting her eyes flicker to the older boy’s back. “Now that’s family resemblance,” she noted lightly, referring back to their previous topic of conversation to keep her mind from straying back to thoughts of the pain located in her arm.

“Oh wonderful. I’ve always wanted to be a martyr. Maybe my dorm-mates will finally feel sorry for the way they treat me,” Ashlyn wondered out loud, her thoughts drifting lazily from one topic to another as the pain in her wrist was replaced by numbness. “Oh,” she blinked down at her wrist owlishly before raising her eyes back up to meet Damon’s. “Is it meant to feel numb?” She questioned childishly, her calm tone tinged with a small amount of panic. Oh please let nothing be wrong with her arm, Ashlyn begged silently. She could play the piano one-handed but her violin needed both hands and it was only when she was playing the violin that she felt close to her Uncle again. “I’d rather not be carried, thank you very much,” Ashlyn agreed firmly, pushing away the dizzy feeling that had slowly twined around her senses as she started to walk.

[Damon Graas R5]

“Not all of us are born lucky. But everyone can make their own luck, what’s stopping you from becoming lucky?” Damon corrected lazily, not even bothering to glance at Ashlyn. A lot of people liked blaming fate, parents, weather, politics, Ministry of Magic. How many of them asked for support or help or dealt with things – or at least attempted to – themselves to start with? No one had a life without any problems. You just had to make do and balance the good and bad sides. “Only if it’s a cheese cookie,” Damon commented with a lazy grin, even if he still hadn’t turned to look at Ashlyn, “And red kittens? Well, I suppose I could charm, or paint, some siblings cats. I shall certainly keep it in mind.”

Nothing but scum. Damon suppressed a sigh. In reality he didn’t care what the girl thought of guys. But it did irk him when people created such stereotypes. Of course, he was somewhat prejudiced as well against Gryffindors. But most of them had given him a reason to. And, naturally, it had to be pointed out that carefully planned accidents didn’t happen to every Gryffindor either. “And have you met every male to know what they are? Of course you know what a guy is like form first glance, I’m sure of that. No need to let them have a minute or, in the name of Merlin’s beard, even five to show their character. No. Not needed, you know before even meeting them. And of course all the girls, by that logic, are pure innocent ladies with the character of an angel.”

Damon watched Rister leave, having to fight the urge to call him back. It would be easier to let him deal with Ashlyn. Or maybe even just stun the girl and transport her unconscious body up to the Hospital Wing. But both options might cause more troubles than he cared to deal with. Not today. “Older brother,” Damon grunted absent-mindedly, pushing his curiousity to the back of his mind. Usually people knew Rister or Gabriel better than him, yet this girl didn’t seem to be able to place Rister at glance. He could puzzle over that later on. Turning around Damon attempted to look at the wrist, even though he knew it was hopeless. The sleeve and Ashlyn’s other hand were blocking his view and he doubt he was going to get a chance to prod it for a moment. Damon had to hand it to the girl for not crying though. Broken bones hurt terribly, he knew that from personal experience. Everyone in the family had had quite a few of broken bones, not to mention lighter injures, and all of them were quite good experts at healing spells. Those were the first spells their parents had taught them, as soon as they were old enough to understand, remember and cast the spell. And wrist would hurt a lot. The smaller the bone, the more it hurt. At least that’s what it always felt like.

“I’m sure you’ve been perfectly nice and charitable to your dorm-mates,” Damon questioned sarcastically, as he lengthened the strap of the violin case on his shoulder. Sure Ashlyn might mind, but he was currently helping him – why, he wasn’t entirely sure, he could have left her in the mercy of madam Pince – he would have the strap as long as it would make him comfortable. He was carrying the sodding thing after all. Suppressing an other smile Damon wondered if Ashlyn realized how childish she sounded, how scared. She surely wouldn’t appreciate that once she was better again. But well, pain lowered once defensive-barriers: “Yes. It’s bodies reaction to shock of breaking the bone. That numbness can save lives, if you wound yourself in the middle of a forest with no one near-by to help.” Damon curled his lip as he recalled the quite unpleasant memory, before shaking his head and watching how Ashlyn swayed quite unsteadily as she started moving. “I’ll be sure to drag you by the ankle then and move up and down as many staircases as possible,” Damon commented sarcastically, resigning himself to the fact that at one point he would probably have to half-carry, half-drag the girl.

[Ashlyn Swallow G5]

“Luck doesn’t change what’s already happened. I suppose I was simply born unlucky and, despite efforts to become otherwise, my luck doesn’t seem to have changed much between then and now. Except for once.” Ashlyn smiled slightly, casting back her mind to the only time she could remember actually being lucky. James had been the best thing to ever happen to her. Until he had died and completely changed her luck by landing her back in her parent’s custody. She quite wished she could summon up the negative energy needed to hate him for that but it was incredibly hard the hate the one person who had willingly looked after her for more than five minutes, let alone five years. “A cheese cookie? I much prefer white chocolate cookies myself, but whatever soothes your hunger.”

“I’ve met enough,” Ashlyn answered frostily. “It’s foolish to follow the teaching ‘innocent until proven guilty’ in any case. It just ends in tears. It’s much easier, and safer, to make people earn your trust and respect rather than giving it freely and having it broken.” So maybe he had a point, maybe she hadn’t always been fair in her few dealings with the opposite gender. That didn’t decrease her insatiable urge to glare at him moodily, particularly when she realised that she was actually opening up to him more than she had opened up to anyone since her Uncle had died. Tricky male, tricking her with his...tricky words. “No.” Ashlyn raised an eyebrow slowly. “Very few girls are pure and innocent with the character of an angel. I’m not one of them, as my parents would undoubtedly agree though I’m not quite sure how they’d know enough to make such a decision.”

“Oh, there’s another person like you then. Wonderful. Is there a mini army of you invading Hogwarts by any chance?” Ashlyn asked faintly, feeling annoyed that it took so much effort to just focus on speaking coherently. “I suppose you both have your nice sides though. He was willing to help and you are helping. Does that mean that some of you – ‘you’ meaning males in general – aren’t quite the pond scum I learnt to believe you are?” Some part of her fuzzy mind recognised that Damon had been trying to examine her wrist and Ashlyn obligingly uncovered her wrist so that he could see the break in all its glory. The more rational side of her mind struggled to the forefront after realising what she had previously said. “I’m in pain. Nothing I say can be held as truth. That includes the insinuation that not all males are evil,” she insisted firmly. If her wrist wasn’t broken then she probably would have folded her arms defiantly. She was rather predictable like that sometimes, and she was rather attached to her defensive positions. It was difficult to accept that she was currently incapable of most of them.

Ashlyn grinned quite viciously as her mind slowly registered his question. “No. I’ve been quite mean to them really. They always try to get me into trouble with McGonagall but sometimes I make sure their plans go wrong. Rather like I did today, now that I think about it. But I can honestly say that I didn’t start this feud we have. You know that boy, the one with the wand? His sister started it by trying to burn my violin. Why are you holding my violin?” Ashlyn looked alarmed but calmed down slightly after checking that the case was still fastened securely. Had she been slightly more rational, she might have realised that she mostly trusted him to transport her violin case safely. She wouldn’t trust him with anything else, violin-related or not, but it was a start. “You sound like you have experience in that sort of situation. Since you still seem to have all limbs intact and in working order, would it be safe to say that I’ll still be able to play my violin? Hearing someone else play it just isn’t the same. Not that I know anyone else who can play the violin.” It was hard to walk in a straight line, as Ashlyn discovered when she almost stumbled into Damon. Oh, how interesting. He smelt quite pleasant. “I’d really prefer to just walk by myself,” she argued, knowing that she wasn’t really capable of walking steadily but refusing to be put through the humiliation of being carried through the hallways.

[Damon Graas R5]

“Luck is blind. What has happened you can’t change. But how much effort have you put into changing what happens weekly or what will happen?” Damon questioned, not even waiting for an answer, “Luck can be made by yourself, if you have the guts to do so.” Ashlyn smiled as she disappeared in the haze of the pain or into memories and Damon had to take a double-take. The smile wasn’t ironic, sarcastic, pitying, mocking, it was… just a smile. And Damon admitted to himself that this girl might very well be attracting if he didn’t look out. Not that anything was about to come out of it anyway. She was far too anti-male and anti-Damon. He carried on at the quite non-important topic of cookies quite conversationally however, “Yes, a cheese cookie. I find white chocolate far too sweet and prefer dark one. Whereas most people do prefer chocolate cookies, so taking a different one would allow me to enjoy my cookie in peace.”

“Ah, but you just said that you’re willing to grant your trust if it’s deserved. Even to the miserable creatures who have had the misfortune of being born as male. So thereby you just, controversially, admitted that some guys just might be worth the time and trust,” Damon pointed out coolly, as he tilted his head, “And you agree that few girls – if any – are angels, so thereby… if you see a week-old infant you distrust him or her by default and make the child earn your trust. Yet when the child starts crying over a hungry stomach, your time with yourself in broken and thereby your trust broken and the poor child ends up being… what was it? Scum of the earth?”
Damon glanced sharply at Ashlyn, mentally collecting the note about the parents not knowing her. A bad family life and childhood? Apparently. That might explain a lot. Though he would have to double-check to see how bad it really was, how bad of it was exaggerated.

“Oh? You saw my mini army? Shameful. I did tell them to lay low until we’re ready to take over. I’ll have to send them to bed without cookies today,” Damon joked easily enough, arching an eye-brow at the helping comment, “Of course. I, if you may, happen to part of the scum in a river. There is some variety.” Damon laughed. He simply laughed over Ashlyn’s quickness into pointing out she was delirious. “Remind me to start recording my conversations. I could have made money form recording your statement that not all men are bad. And if you get them in trouble, then there’s no surprise they returned he same. Even the little Gryffie-lions are humans, with the basic faults that befits our race.”

Damon arched his eye-brows at the near-hysteria sounding form Ashlyn’s voice over the violin topic but seeing her carry on form the topic, let it slide. Better to let her forget it, if she thought it a problem. Knowing that talking helped Damon rolled his eyes and kept his town calm and low: “Yes, I’ve broken my bones a few times. You aren’t bleeding so I dare to believe you won’t even scar, unlike when you have an open fracture where the ends of the bone stick out. The swelling is natural. Jared can play the violin, he prefers other pieces though. He has broken half the bones in his left palm before and can still play, so I presume you will also. After regrowing the bone the place will be sore for a while, especially if you put full tension on it from start.”

Damon watched with some amusement how Ashlyn nearly stumbled into him. “I’m sure. You’re just checking to see whether the world is still round with your direction of walking, correct?” Stepping forward Damon pulled the library door open for Ashlyn and steadying Ashlyn with a hand on her shoulder helped her over the doorstep. Perhaps the steadying hand was even good as it helped Damon stop her from stumbling head-first into a suit of armor, “Don’t take the school down on your way to the Hospital Wing. I’d rather not have the weapon of some vicious looking suit of armor relieve me of some limb.”