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Post by Rister Graas S6 on Apr 21, 2022 7:51:34 GMT -5
"I hope so. I'll be counting on you giving me another chance at one of them," Damon responds good-naturedly. For all that there wouldn't be any other parties for him for a couple of weeks. "For all that I dread to imagine how long the queue is to hope for a dance with you. Perhaps I should throw in my lot for Hogwarts Christmas Ball, before you get inundated with invites when Hogwarts starts up again. Although there I go assuming you don't have a pile of invitation stashed away already."
"Nothing to be sorry for. I would cheerfully murder anyone attempting to steal one of my sisters away and then host a barbeque over their corpse," Damon assures, not even jokingly. All of Hogwarts learnt extremely quickly that as easy-going as the Graas brothers are about themselves, they are notorious protective of their little sister. By the time Morgana enrolled a year after Leandra, no one even dared to bother her. "Good to know. I'll keep you around for a shield then," Damon said, smiling down at Ashlyn and offering the crook of his own arm again, "I'm not quite dying yet, so I'll be fine to walk." And he is fine to walk, even if his limp is no obvious rather than something one might only pick up at close observation or when pointed out to someone.
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Post by Ashlyn Swallow G5 on Apr 21, 2022 8:29:37 GMT -5
“It’s very nice of you to say so but I’m quite sure you’re overestimating my popularity,” Ashlyn scoffs, completely unbothered by the idea and also utterly oblivious to the fact that she’s only not being asked to dance right now because she’s already otherwise engaged. She’s good at socialising - making connections is a prime Slytherin pastime, after all - but she’s quite happy to let Larisa and Nieve remain the popular sisters at parties and social events. She’s been on a few dates, thanks to Nieve’s cheerfully insistent encouragement, but so far she can safely say that her violin is a better conversationalist than anyone she’s ever dated.
“That’s…rather extreme,” Ashlyn comments with an amused smile. “Is that the expected behaviour amongst siblings? Do I need to learn how to make a bonfire before Nieve’s quinceañera so I can be fully prepared?” Not that she’ll need to. Nieve already has a small army of protective family members and most of them are in this room, alternating between which of the two young Slytherins they’re subtly monitoring. It’s nice, she admits silently, returning Carlos’ smile as he and his girlfriend just happen to wander past. She doesn’t know how she’d be celebrating her fifteenth birthday if Nieve’s family hadn’t taken her in but she’s absolutely certain it wouldn’t have involved a party. “I’ll protect you from the scary siblings,” Ashlyn promises with a laugh as she accepts Damon’s arm. “They wouldn’t dare make a scene while their mother is watching. Isa is scarier than a dragon when she’s roused.”
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Post by Rister Graas S6 on Apr 21, 2022 12:31:16 GMT -5
"Considering the amount of dirty looks I'm getting while occupying your time while not even on the dance floor - not really. I suspect might have to dodge a high heel or a dagger still tonight," Damon responds in a mock-whisper. Not that it particularly bothers him - Damon feels too comfortable in his own skin for that.
"It's an Italian tradition. The barbeque that is. Old time-honoured tradition," Damon assures Ashlyn cheerfully, as they start making their way back to the alcove, Damon rather obviously favouring one of his legs for now. "Also - saying someone protective of you is scarier than a dragon - not exactly comforting, if that's what you were going for."
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Post by Ashlyn Swallow G5 on Apr 21, 2022 13:04:33 GMT -5
“It could be me that they’re glaring at,” Ashlyn suggests, laughing quietly. “Mariana and Luisa probably want more information about Gabriel. You doomed yourself by putting the image of him under a waterfall into their heads, I’m sorry to say.”
Ashlyn lifts one shoulder in a shrug, blue eyes warmly amused as she finds Isa and Tomás circling the dancefloor in an effortlessly elegant waltz. She has parents and yet it’s two people with no blood connection to her at all who have stepped up to take her in and love her in a way that still bewilders her. She still doesn’t understand how they can love her when her parents found it so impossible but she owes them more than she can ever repay for all they’ve done since bringing her into their family so wholeheartedly. “As long as you don’t plan to anger her, it’s not a problem, is it? Besides, she’s so excited about tonight that I don’t think anything could spoil her mood.”
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Post by Rister Graas S6 on Apr 22, 2022 8:36:42 GMT -5
"Sibling privileges. I can throw any and all of my siblings at the mercy of fangirls, should it amuse me," Damon notes promptly. He doubts he's actually getting glared at though - he's the Graas brother most in the background of the bunch really. Gabriel being the most popular of them for obvious reasons although Jared is starting to gather popularity now that he's held his first concerts. Rister is the Heir, which brings it's own attention. Damon quite enjoys the tiny bit of extra freedom being able to hide behind his more famous brothers gives him though. But there's no reason to point it out to Ashlyn that he's the boring brother all-in-all.
"Glad to hear she's excited for the party. Although I hope you were as well, seeing that it is your party really?" Damon asks with a curious tilt of his head.
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Post by Ashlyn Swallow G5 on Apr 22, 2022 13:55:45 GMT -5
“I’ll keep that in mind for the future,” Ashlyn muses with a quick smirk. “I mean, Larisa’s and Nieve’s admirers presumably aren’t as enthusiastic as your brothers’ fans are but they both have their fair share so knowing that I can use that to my advantage if necessary might come in handy one day.”
Ashlyn pauses, caught between the polite answer and the true one before settling somewhere in the middle. “I’m not used to all this attention,” she answers carefully. “It’s…a lot, I guess. And turning fifteen is a big deal here so it’s really generous of Nieve’s family to make all this fuss just for me. It’s just a little overwhelming, maybe.”
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Post by Layla Ellison on Apr 25, 2022 9:19:25 GMT -5
((Because there's no Ashlyn without a Damon but there’s no Ashlyn without a Layla either.))
In a different world, Layla is collected from her parents' house by a teenager who doesn’t necessarily want her but also isn’t able to abandon another child to the questionable parenting skills of their shared relatives. She falls in love with music that summer because it’s the one thing that doesn’t make her think of what she’s lost and finds some small semblance of peace in the kindness of the strangers who become her new family in the years to come. It’s a slow, fumbling way to begin healing but it works well enough that starting school a year early isn’t as awful as it could have been.
That isn’t this world.
Here, Ashlyn spends the summer before her fifth year in Europe with the family she's hesitantly starting to think of as her own. She has no contact with any of her family and so she remains blissfully unaware of the way her life could have changed as she instead contentedly sunbathes on the Spanish Riviera. Layla sits numbly on a chair in her living room, pressing her lips together so hard the skin cracks because she'll scream if she opens her mouth, and traces the wallpaper pattern with her eyes until one of her aunts sighs exasperatedly.
“Oh fine, I'll take the girl,” she declares, bad tempered and irritable. “It’s been hours, I’m not staying here all night - I’m supposed to be brunching with the minister's wife tomorrow and I'll need a proper sleep if I have any hope of not dozing off while she witters on. What's her name - Leah? Laura? Laura, get up,” she orders sharply. “Up! You're coming with me for now. I'll do a year and then someone else can have you.”
It takes a week or two for her aunt to get her name right, because that’s how long the legal paperwork takes to arrive naming her as Layla's temporary guardian. She probably could have cleared things up sooner, Layla figures silently, but words keep getting stuck in her throat when she tries to speak and, honestly, it hadn’t seemed all that important. Being Laura hadn’t been so bad. Maybe Laura still had a family. Probably not, since her aunt hands her care over to the first governess she can find before promptly returning to her own life and disregarding the mute blonde child now haunting the hallways of her house, but maybe. Layla doesn’t. Layla has Miss Sophia, who quickly grows frustrated both by how easily Layla can breeze through her lessons when she’s allowed to write down the answers and the fact that she never speaks, and Aunt Heather, who tends to look startled whenever she sees Layla, as if she’s somehow completely forgotten that the girl exists.
Her aunt stays true to her word - she keeps Layla for a year and then sends her off to Hogwarts with all of her belongings and no idea where she’s going to live next summer. “Someone will take you,” she tells Layla dismissively. “They’ll write to you before summer with a portkey or a floo address, probably.”
Layla privately doubts that because she’s fairly sure her aunt will forget about her the second either of them leave the room but that’s a problem for another day. For right now, she needs to figure out how she’s going to drag her trunk into the fireplace and then onto the train. She figured out in the first few months that that’s the best way to survive - day by day, one problem at a time - and she’s grimly inured to being an afterthought instead of a priority. She misses her parents and her siblings but it’s not such a bad way to live, she convinces herself. It could be worse.
***
Being Sorted into Ravenclaw isn’t a surprise. The twins had told her about the Hat and the Houses over Christmas in their first year, all smiles and excited words for the little sister they've spent a lifetime halfheartedly letting tag along after them. She was always going to be a Ravenclaw and not even the past year is enough to change that. Layla sits at the end of the Ravenclaw table and searches the crowd of Slytherins for her brother and sister desperately, heartbroken despair welling up inside her when she can't find them. She hasn’t heard anything from them since they were whisked away over a year ago and Aunt Heather had just waved her off impatiently when Layla had finally managed to choke out a quiet question about them. All she knows is that they’ve been taken in by some unknown relative who's interested in how their magic is impacted by being twins. Hogwarts had been her last hope of seeing them again. Losing that thin thread connecting her to the life Layla still dreams about every night is enough to make her want to scream and cry but Layla swallows it down alongside a bite of roast chicken, refusing to let anything crack her blank expression. Day by day, she reminds herself dully. One problem at a time.
Her aunt's house proves to be excellent practice for Hogwarts, Layla finds. She ghosts her way around the castle, frustrating the other girls in her dorm with her muteness so much that she prefers to spend as much time as possible away from them. First years don’t know many spells and Layla has spent a year doing little else but read books far above her level in her aunt's library so she can reverse or avoid nearly anything they send at her but their words hurt where their spells can’t. Better to stay away, Layla judges, and does exactly that. Professor Hawthorne lets her do her homework in a corner of her classroom sometimes if Layla shows up when she's supervising detention so she works that into her weekly routine and fills the rest of her time by rotating between the library, a few empty classrooms, and exploring the castle.
The results of their Christmas exams rekindle the intensity of the glares aimed at her by the crueler of the other first years. They complain bitterly to each other that it isn’t fair that someone who doesn't even speak in class unless she absolutely has to is at the top of the class so surely she must be cheating somehow. Layla seethes at the injustice even as she bolts down the hallway before one of them thinks to reach for their wand for a bit of petty revenge, disappearing into a secret passageway that she had found over the Christmas holiday. It lets out near the kitchens and she ducks in quickly, sending a disinterested glance at the other students also inside as the house-elves usher her to a seat and happily rush to put down plates of what they've learnt through trial and error are her favourite dishes. The older kids never bother with her unless she's in their way somehow so Layla ignores them comfortably.
Her luck finally runs out in March. Hawthorne isn’t in her classroom so either she's handed off her detentions to someone else to supervise or no one has caused trouble in front of her this week. Layla sighs dismally and changes course to camp out in the library for a few hours instead, rolling her shoulder beneath the weight of her bag. She doesn’t even get a chance to twist away or defend herself; the spell comes from behind her and trips her up, sending her sprawling against the cold stone of the hallway. Her knees and palms sting as she starts to push herself back up stiffly, tightening her jaw against a pained whimper solely because she refuses to give them the satisfaction, but she recoils away from a hand that suddenly appears in front of her face and ends up crashing backwards onto the floor again.
“Merlin, kid, take it easy,” a female voice drawls, her voice kind despite the bite of her words. Layla glances up distrustfully, blue eyes taking in a blonde wearing Slytherin robes and an expression that flickers between a scowl and something gentler. “How badly did they get you? Do you need to go see the nurse?” She nods decisively when Layla shakes her head slightly, sticking out a hand to haul her to her feet. “Good,” the Slytherin says firmly, placing a hand on Layla's shoulder to push her along as she starts walking. “You're Ravenclaw, right? Let's get you back where you should be. Don’t worry about them,” she adds dismissively, waving a hand behind them to the three stunned bodies that Layla hadn’t even noticed at first in her shock. “They won’t wake anytime soon, trust me. I’ll send Damon to collect them when we get to the common room. Better to let him deal with them than me; there’s a reason I didn’t get a prefect badge after all. Well?” The Slytherin prompts when they reach the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, gesturing expectantly. “I hate riddles, we'll be out here all night if you wait for me to answer and we really need to get you cleaned up.
But...it’s easy, Layla thinks with a frown. She could have answered this riddle when she was eight. She glances at the other blonde dubiously but her expression doesn’t change and Layla gives up, murmuring the answer barely loud enough for the door to open.
“Really?” The Slytherin girl looks surprised and then sheepish as she laughs at herself quietly. “I was way off. I don’t get why you Ravenclaws can’t just have passwords like everyone else. You're all showoffs. Oi, Jared!” she calls abruptly, raising her voice as she beckons over a dark-haired boy from by the fireplace. “And you, Merry's little brother's friend. Yes, you. Come here a minute. I have something for you.”
Layla watches guardedly as the two boys draw closer. One of them is definitely older but she recognises the other one from classes. He's one of the louder ones, always ready with a witty quip and the correct answer when a professor calls on him. She’s never been partnered with him - he’s always with a dark-haired Slytherin - but he’s never been mean.
“I have a name, you know,” he points out cheerfully, grinning at both blondes. “My parents didn’t actually name me ‘Merry's little brother's friend’ and I haven’t had it legally changed to that yet.”
“Glad to hear it,” the older girl responds dryly and pushes Layla forward. “Here, this is for you. Some of your delightful classmates have hit an all time low by jinxing other kids from behind. You and Pip are going to make sure it doesn’t happen again and teach her some of those spells that Merry will never know I taught you, got it? Jared,” she turns to the other boy with a smile that doesn’t quite match the hard expression lingering in her gaze. “Can you run up and fetch Damon from his dorm and grab a salve for...I don’t actually know your name,” she says apologetically as she turns to Layla. “I’m Ashlyn. Jared here is a fifth year, he's my boyfriend's little brother. Leon is a first year; he’s a nuisance but he’s harmless.”
“Her name's Layla,” Leon supplies easily before Layla can even think to open her mouth, flashing her a quick, sympathetic smile that tells her he stepped in deliberately. “And excuse you, I’m a delight. Don’t pretend you aren’t grateful for the day I walked into your lives.”
Ashlyn lifts an eyebrow but doesn’t voice the question Layla can see forming behind her eyes. “Alright then. Layla here needs a salve for her palms and probably her knees too; it looked like she hit the ground pretty hard. I left the culprits knocked out in a corner for Damon because I give the best presents a prefect could ever ask for.”
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Post by Rister Graas S6 on Apr 25, 2022 10:55:51 GMT -5
Jared glances up from his guitar as Ashlyn class for him and arches a bemused eye-brow, but slings the guitar off his lap and onto his back anyway as he rises to approach, taking in the smaller girl next to Ashlyn with a curious glance. He knows her. Vaguely. She's a Ravenclaw, so he's likely seen her around the common room at times as well. But he's quite sure he's also seen her in detention with Hawthorne a couple of times. Or well, when Jared has been in detention.
"Hello," he says to the girl with a quick nod, leaving Leon and Ashlyn to bicker, as he drops down to a crouch in front of her instead of the girl as Ashlyn mentions the scrapes. "May I see?" he asks, holding out a hand with the palm up but waiting for Layla actually extend hers rather than reaching for it. He hums thoughtfully while taking in the injury, blowing lightly to get rid of a random piece of dirt that has gotten stuck in one of them. "I'll have something to take care of this. I used to end up with cupt up fingers pretty often once upon a time," he says as he moves to straighten again. By now the callouses on his fingertips are hardened enough for it no longer to be a problem. "Let's go up to the dorm," he tells Layla instead, figuring the kid would probably want some privacy for this, before smirking at Ashlyn, "It'll also give you a chance to tell Damon about your fight for justice yourself."
They run into Damon on the staircase leading up to the boys dorm anyway, so the point is moot. "Will you show, Damon?" Jared asks Layla with a glance down, as Damon slips an arm around Ashlyn's waist for a quick greeting kiss, before turning his attention to Layla. "It was Layla Ellison, wasn't it?" Damon asks, remembering the first year from the list and from her excellent grades for the last set of exams as he turns his attention to what has taken place, before Jared ushers Layla into the 5th year boys dorm.
"Have a seat," he says easily with a nod to his bed, laying his guitar down on the bed as well, before turning to rummage or the salve. "Ashlyn mentioned you scraped your knees as well? Anything that needs bandages? Or any other injuries?" he asks, blinking at the chocolate frog he pulls out before handing it over to Layla with absent minded "help yourself" before locating the box he keeps potions and salves in and putting it on the bed on the other side of the girl to rummage through for the pot of salve.
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Post by Layla Ellison on Apr 25, 2022 11:49:15 GMT -5
Layla watches Jared with wary eyes that track his every movement even as she slowly lifts her hands and twists them obligingly to show the damage from her fall. It is mostly just scrapes as Ashlyn had said but there’s a small gash at the bottom of her left palm which has been steadily leaking blood into the once white cuff of her school shirt. Looking at it seems to make it hurt worse and Layla flinches reflexively, her hand twitching as she forces herself not to pull away.
“I’ll stay down here,” she hears Leon murmur to Ashlyn quietly as she follows Jared towards the staircase. He’s too quiet for her to hear much, which Layla uncharitably thinks is unusual for him given how unapologetically disruptive he and his Slytherin friend can be in class sometimes, but she can prick her ears enough to hear a few words until Ashlyn clasps his shoulder and sends him back to his friends with a nod. “…give her some space…doesn’t talk much…don’t push…”
“It’s not a fight for justice,” Ashlyn says exasperatedly as she catches up to them in a few quick steps. “You and Damon really need to stop saying that. At best, it’s teaching little brats not to pick on people unless they’re willing to be picked on right back. I don’t like bullies and I definitely don’t like bullies who are cowardly enough to group together and jinx people from behind. I vote we give them to Snape as potion supplies.”
Layla lifts her gaze from her shoes to glance at Jared questioningly before sighing inaudibly and showing her palms to Damon, wondering if maybe it would have been better if Ashlyn hadn’t stepped in. It had been temporarily satisfying to see the other kids get a taste of their own medicine, sure, but they’re going to be even angrier once they wake up. And her hands and knees are throbbing while they stand around looking at her and talking about what had happened as if it matters. She could have washed herself off and sopped up the blood with toilet paper herself by now, she thinks exasperatedly. They’re making such a fuss over nothing and making things a million times worse. The other kids will just wait a few days until Ashlyn and her friends have forgotten all about her and then they’ll be even meaner once they’re sure she’s alone again. All the same, she nods her head slightly when Damon says her name, quietly bemused that he knows who she is, and feels her shoulders loosen with relief when Ashlyn tugs Damon aside for a private conversation, her hands gesturing wildly as she speaks.
Layla perches on the edge of the bed, palms cradled in her lap so she doesn’t accidentally drip blood onto the sheets. Jared already knows about her hands so she leans forward to gingerly roll her socks down a few inches when he asks about other injuries, hiccuping a quiet, pained sob as the fabric sticks to the bloodied skin of her knee until she grits her teeth and yanks it free sharply. The cut on her palm had opened again when she curled her fingers to pull at her socks so she presses it against her skirt absently to hold a steady pressure and stop the bleeding as she surveys her knees. Not too bad, she judges after a moment. Her right knee is already turning purple because it had taken the brunt of her fall so she’ll be stiff and bruised for a while but otherwise there’s only a small collection of shallow grazes across both knees. She won’t be exploring the castle for a few days until her knee heals up a bit but she can always just spend more time in the library.
“Nothing else,” she confirms after a long pause, her voice scratchy and slightly hoarse.
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Post by Rister Graas S6 on Apr 25, 2022 12:09:50 GMT -5
"Exactly. That translates to justice," Jared agrees with an encouraging nod and quick grin.
"Ouch," Jared tells Layla with a sympathetic wince as she rolls down her knees. "Also sorry, I should have done this earlier." Going down on one knee again Jared pulls out his wand reaches for Layla's hand again. Clearly enunciating the healing spell he draws the glowing tip of his wand just over the bleeding scrape before releasing the spell to numb any pain. He then repeats the process the process on both knees, clicking his tongue over the purpling knee. He adds a light cooling charm on that knee. "Let me know if your knee gets sorer and I can release the cooling spell. It might just save you some stiffness later on though," he explains, while reacing for a roll of bandage and getting to work dabbing at the blood in Layla's palm. "Smack me if I catch the scrape while doing this by the way. My own hands are pretty calloused by this point," Jared holds up the palm of his other hand for Layla's inspection as to prove his point, "So I might be a bit too careless. That seems like the blood is stopping again. Ready for the salve? It works pretty quickly. Plus it smells like mint, unlikely basically everything else."
Tossing the roll of bandage aside for now, Jared unscrews the lid of the salve and then raises his eyebrows at Layla for a moment even as he scoops up some of it, gently spreading a layer on the scrapes in her palm first. "Surprise - it also doesn't sting. I'm a wuss," Jared said with a quick flash of a grin up at Layla, before setting to work layering the salve. The largest gash gets two servings, before Jared turns his attention to Layla's knees.
"Jared," Damon said from the doorway, causing Jared to peer back over his shoulder. "Want to take the miscreants?" Damon asks and the brother's eyes meet with perfect understanding for a moment. If Damon gets involved this thing gets official. Jared can take things further. "I'm sure I saw them being mean to my little sister," Jared agrees blandly, even if his smile is just a hint vicious before he turns back to Layla. "I'll go deal with them in a minute. First, I think this gash needs a few more layers. Well, one at least, if you're in a hurry and would just prefer to bandage it up instead."
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Post by Layla Ellison on Apr 25, 2022 13:12:50 GMT -5
“They cast at her from behind,” Ashlyn tells Damon furiously once she’s sure Jared and the kid are out of earshot. “What kind of cowardly little beast does that?” she demands, as if Damon could possibly have an answer for her. “You saw her. There’s no way that was the first time they’ve come after her; she didn’t cry or whine, she didn’t even look surprised until she realised I was helping her. She’s just a kid,” Ashlyn finishes with a sigh, mouth downturned as she rakes her hands through her curls. “She’s a kid and she took that jinx like it was normal. Just picked herself back up and limped back here without even a word.” Just like she used to, Ashlyn realises with grim horror, except she at least had fled back to Hogwarts. The little Ravenclaw doesn’t have that option, not when her tormentors attend school right alongside her. “Leon says she’s a good kid: quiet, top of her class in almost every subject, but doesn’t mix well. He’s never seen anyone bully her before but I’ll offer myself up as Pip’s target practice for a month if I’m wrong and this has never happened before.”
***
Layla watches the healing spell intently, memorising the wand movement and repeating the incantation in her head until she’s sure she knows it. She likes learning new spells and she’s usually quiet enough that she can pick up some interesting ones from older students. This one definitely seems like it’ll be useful so that in itself makes any delayed retribution from the other first years worthwhile, she decides philosophically. They might be angry but at least she’ll know how to heal herself, which is much better than just living with the injuries on the rare occasion she’s not fast enough to evade them. The cooling charm would probably be useful too but Layla misses that one by letting out a sharp, involuntary hiss as the cold settles in and slowly soothes the angry throbbing that she hadn’t quite managed to grit her teeth and ignore.
“From the guitar?” Layla asks hesitantly, gesturing to the side with her free hand. The bandage is rough against her torn skin and she bites down on her tongue to kill a soft whine before it can rise up in her throat, instead distracting herself by sneaking quick, furtive glances at the guitar next to her. She doesn’t know how to play any instruments but her dad had played piano when she was younger, she thinks. The memory is hazy but she’s sure she can remember sitting on his knee as his fingers skated over the keys. It should be a good memory but it’s soured by his abandonment and Layla shoves it away petulantly. Her dad didn’t want her anymore and she doesn’t want him either. She can look after herself just fine.
Layla dips her head in a hesitant nod, visibly bracing herself for a sharp sting, and then glances at Jared, startled into returning his grin with a small smile. It really doesn’t hurt, which she hadn’t known was possible. Even Mum’s salves had always stung but she had distracted Layla with stories and potions facts that probably nobody but the two of them and maybe Professor Snape would ever find interesting.
Layla’s head snaps up sharply at Damon’s voice, shoulders hunching reflexively in her surprise. She takes a moment to absorb his and Jared’s words and then her hand reaches out to press against Jared’s arm urgently, eyes wide and horrified as she shakes her head wildly. They’ll just make things worse, she thinks desperately. Ashlyn knocking them out was bad enough but going back for a second round will push them from angry to downright vengeful and she can’t move as fast as she normally does until her leg heals. “Don’t,” Layla pleads, her voice cracking as she locks eyes with Jared, begging him to understand. “Please.”
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Post by Rister Graas S6 on Apr 25, 2022 14:10:03 GMT -5
"Yes. I like playing but the strings can be harsh on the fingers until you have basically built up the callouses," Jared said, reaching over to absently pick out a quick chord with one hand as Layla seemed interested. "Do you play? Well, perhaps not the guitar as your hands are in arguable better shape than mine even now. But something else perhaps? Or learning?"
"It's a mildly tricky recipe I suppose, but I'm a wuss so I like it. And it sometimes require multiple coatings, but," Jared shrugs. There is also a ridiculously high pricetag that comes with the salve just because it doesn't sting, but he's certainly not going to mention that here and now lest the girl start feeling self-conscious about it. Jared glanced at Layla started at her response as she has been pretty quiet about it until now. "I could keep you out of it. Damon would find that harder as he's an actual prefect. It would be easy for me though so that they wouldn't retaliate on you," Jared says gently while keeping eye-contact with Layla. But it is real fear in her eyes and Jared can feel his heart going out for the girl. "Alright," he says after a moment, "If you're really sure, we'll stay though."
***
Layla might have decided to let things go yesterday, but hopefully Jared can help her a bit in the future. If not by making a few kids think a second time then at least by maybe teaching the kid a spell or two to protect herself. So when he sees Layla at the breakfast table the following morning he wanders past his usual seat to her and drops onto the bench next to her. "Morning Layla," he says with a yawn, frowning at the table for a moment as all the coffee pots are far, before shrugging and going for orange juice instead, "Are you busy this afternoon? If not, I'm claiming you for a few hours. Also could you pass me one of the buns please? One without the poppy seeds."
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Post by Layla Ellison on Apr 25, 2022 14:53:36 GMT -5
Jared is like Ashlyn, Layla decides as she watches quietly. Capable of carrying a conversation without much or any input from another party. The Slytherin had kept up a running commentary for the entire walk to the Ravenclaw common room without even seeming to pause for breath sometimes and now Jared is doing much the same thing. It’s weirdly relaxing; there’s no pressure on her to speak unless she has something to say. “No,” she murmurs quietly. “I don’t play anything.” Which is true on multiple levels, Layla thinks with a flash of dark humour. She doesn’t play instruments and she doesn’t play games either, unless she thinks of her time at Hogwarts as a long game of tag or hide and seek with the other first years.
Layla hesitates, the desire for retribution warring with her common sense, but shakes her head again. “They saw Ashlyn,” she says eventually, which must be true because she had been jinxed from behind but Ashlyn had approached her from the front. And it isn’t exactly a leap of logic to get from Ashlyn to Damon to Jared. The blonde herself had introduced them as her boyfriend and his brother. “They’re not that stupid.”
***
Layla startles slightly when someone says her name; she’d noticed someone sitting beside her but ignored them in favour of assembling a fruit salad. Her eyebrows lift in obvious confusion as she glances up at Jared, pointedly flicking her eyes further up the table to a few empty seats and then back to him, before offering him the food he’d asked for out of automatic politeness. “I have homework,” she tells him flatly, which is a blatant lie but it’s not like he knows that. It had been nice of him to help her yesterday but it’s mean of him to pretend it was anything more than an obligation to be nice to the bleeding kid his brother’s girlfriend dropped in his lap. He’s going to get bored of her soon enough and then she’ll be alone again. It’s better to just fast forward to the inevitable and save herself the hurt. People leave, it’s what they do. “Why are you even here?” Layla asks, blue eyes shadowed and tired as she examines Jared distrustfully.
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Post by Rister Graas S6 on Apr 25, 2022 15:05:39 GMT -5
"Always time to learn I suppose. Everyone should learn an instrument. Although I might be biased," Jared allows, before tilting his head and considering. "Still like the guitar the most out of all of them. Ignore Ashlyn, when she tries to tell you differently."
Jared considers that and Layla for a long moment. He could 'accidentally' sick Leandra or Morgana on the kids, but perhaps later. Layla has a good point. "Very well. We'll do as you'd like for now and figure out something later," he agrees. He has time to ask for which kids they were later for them to keep a general eye on for any future possibilities that might open.
***
"Thank you," Jared says as he accepts the roll, breaking off a piece and tossing it in his mouth before cutting the roll open to butter it and add a slice of cheese. "We can probably help you with that. I mean, I did pass first year homework once upon a time so should know it still, if necessary," Jared says with an easy shrug after he has swallowed and reaches over to help himself to some scrambled eggs.
"Breakfast," Jared responds, glancing at Layla's plate absently. Fruit salad. Nice, but not necessarily all that filling. "Please tell me you had something more before I came? Fruits are nice, but breakfast is important. Also duelling club. Which is not a club. And not really much duelling either, for all that Pip keeps challenging Rister. But we call it that because Merry I suppose. First rule of fight club is that you don't talk about the fight club. No idea what the context of that was, but it's a catchy phrase. Anyway, duelling club. It's not a set duration and you can do your homework there if you want, but we can teach you a few extra spells. Also how's your hand. Did you add the extra layers of the salve I take you before going to sleep and this morning?"
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Post by Layla Ellison on Apr 25, 2022 15:41:23 GMT -5
Layla doesn’t think she’s ever had to try so hard not to roll her eyes and she shares a room with five other eleven year olds who have spent the last week arguing about their favourite fictional characters from a book series. And they’re all wrong anyway, because Layla had devoured that series when it was first published and neither the prince or the dashing rogue are the best characters. They’re good, but not the best. How very magnanimous of Jared to agree that she might know best about how to deal with her own bullies, she huffs with quiet exasperation. She’s the one who’s been dodging them all year and still managing to complete all her homework, pass every exam, and keep her academic ranking consistently within the top three.
***
Layla frowns, pinning Jared with a frankly unimpressed and mildly offended glower at the insinuation that she can’t manage her own homework. First year isn’t hard. She recognises a lot of the coursework from reading her siblings’ textbooks years ago. It makes more sense now than it had back then and she can actually cast the spells but that’s the only real difference. Only an idiot would find levitation charms and basic transfiguration difficult.
“I always have fruit for breakfast,” Layla says defensively. “It’s light.” And why does Jared even care, she wonders exasperatedly. Aunt Heather and Miss Sophia had hardly noticed if she ate breakfast at all and Layla’s pretty sure that’s in the job description for a guardian, although she’s admittedly not sure about Miss Sophia. She doesn’t really know what a governess is paid to do but Miss Sophia had spent most of her time telling her off so she imagines it’s not particularly much to do with actually liking children.
A duelling club that doesn’t actually involve duelling? Or maybe fighting; Layla doesn’t really follow that reference but she does have to admit it is indeed a rather catchy phrase. The promise of extra spells is tempting though. Layla likes learning new things, as she figures most Ravenclaws probably do. It’s one of the characteristics of their House after all. “It’s less sore today,” Layla answers softly, “thank you. The salve really helped.”
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