Double, Double, Toil and Trouble PV Rafael

@Jo Morgan

Rafa was pretty fucking tired of studying.

Seriously. He didn’t feel up to anything. There was no motivation in his body. And, really, could you blame him? He had stayed up the past three nights – all night, he might add – studying for Lian’s upcoming test. And really, he wasn’t sure how much more he could take. His eyes were drooping, and a yawn had escaped him in just about every class. On top of that, Tim’s incessant chatter, which was usually entertaining, was beginning to become a chore, as he was having a hard time focusing on the words floating through the air. Which brought him back to his case and point. He really should have been sleeping right now.

Though, the only thing keeping him from passing out on his common room bed, was the owl he had gotten earlier in the morning. It was from Jo, his absolutely enraging lab partner. His first instinct was to, of course, say no – but then she would make something up about how ‘lazy’ or ‘disloyal to his work’ he was. Which was a total lie – he had been making an E average, which was thanks to all his hard work and studying. He really couldn’t have that sort of talk about him, and if he knew anything about Jo, then he knew she’d have no problem passing some tea to her friends, or the Acid Fizz Club or whatever the hell she called it. He wasn’t about to stand for that

Which is what brought him into the library. He must look pretty terrible, what with his skin being a bit paler than its usual tan, and the bags under his eyes. His ribs were aching a lot from his fight with Saoirse in the library last week, but he bit his lip and squashed the pain down, knowing it would be gone in a matter of time. His hair was falling in front of his face a bit – he hadn’t felt motivated enough to fix it this morning. He was almost positive Jo was going to say something, but he was too tired to care. He rounded into the library, its must and roomy vibes hitting him gently, like a hug, almost. His eyes deftly caught Jo’s, and he nodded to her. For some reason, just the sight of her aggravated him. He couldn’t really explain it – it just did.

He began making his way down to her table, when the world began to go awry. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened – his reflexes made up for his lack of knowledge poorly, and he began to flail about right there. Like a fucking bird. His books went flying, and soon enough, so did he, right onto the library floor. “Mierda,” he growled in pain, his fist pounding the floor before he could stop himself. He heard laughter behind him and looked up to see a group of Slytherins laughing at his misfortune. One of their feet were outstretched, toe pointing in the air, right where Rafa had been walking. It dawned on him that he had been purposely tripped – his aggravation levels only soared to new heights now. Though, the motivation to hurt someone had sorely left him. He allowed his face to redden in anger for a moment, before picking himself up – his ribs screamed in protest – and saying some very scathing words to them.

He didn’t wait for their reaction, either. He just simply picked up his things and went over to Jo’s study table. No doubt she had seen the whole thing. Now, that was embarrassing. He set his belongings on the table, deftly taking a seat. “What goes, partner?” he asked, though his question was anything but friendly. He was biting his lip out of aggravation, his hair falling in his face. Damn, he wished he had his Quidditch headband. Maybe he’d get it from the locker room later. “Failing much?” he allowed himself to grin a bit, before taking his paper and pen out. He started tapping the paper unconsciously with his pen, little dots spotting the page. The shorter time he spent here the better – he really needed to crash.

Well, look at what the cat dragged in! Jo chuckled as her disheveled partner staggered through the door, remembering Saoirse's gloating account of their fight. To be honest, the boy looked like he had just crawled out of a garbage bin. Jo was secretly a bit impressed that Rafa was even alive and answering owls at this point - he bore an uncanny resemblance to an Inferius dragging its decomposing flesh out of a lake.

Well, she wasn't about to let a corpse drag her grade down as well. Rafa noticed her, but instead of scowling, he simply nodded. Wow. He certainly wasn't feeling so spry today.

An upturned foot, a swish of a cape, and Rafa went sprawling on the ground like an ugly baby phoenix. Yes! Wait, what the hell? A clump of green and silver whispered and giggled amongst themselves.

"Over here, birdbrain."

Jo couldn't hide her amusement as the boy scrambled to his feet, collected his textbooks and shards of broken dignity from the floor, swore in Spanish, and unwisely tried to pick a verbal fight. It looked like the Slytherins weren't up for throwing punches, however, and neither was Rafa.

Ohhh don't let a slytherin get ya down... Jo recalled a stupid first-year song that she often heard in the common room. She almost felt pity for him - Slytherins did like to hit you while you were down.

What goes, partner?

Nope. Nope. Never mind. Every ounce of pity in her body receded with the boy's sarcastic remark. She ran a finger through her hair and tapped impatiently at the parchment with her quill as the boy stared at her through his long tousled bangs.

Failing much?

We will be soon, thanks to you! the young witch snapped as a rush of blood shot to her head.

Jo cleared her throat and read the first question aloud. What is the ety..etymology of the word Transfiguration? What does the word mean to you? Provide one example of transfiguration.

She grimaced at her stutter and blinked a bit of dirt from her eye, hoping she didn't reek too strongly of plants. Whatever - there were far more embarrassing things, like not falling flat on your face in front of everyone in the library. God, she couldn't wait to tell Saoirse.

@Jo Morgan

Jo didn’t seem too amused with Rafa’s little comment – which was expected. “We will be soon, thanks to you!” she snapped at him. Rafa took note of how red her face became with that little comment – he had to snicker.

“Don’t hurt yourself, now,” he bit back, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Would hate for my grade to drop because of a ruddy partner.” He wouldn’t admit it, of course, but he’d already done this lesson – and had gotten a high E on it. He’d thought Jo had completed it, too, but apparently not. Damn, so why was he here? He sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. He didn’t think he’d mention it – small acts of kindness, and all. It wasn’t like he hated Jo – they just weren’t friends. More of a tough love relationship, if anything. He would never wish her any real harm.

“What is the ety..etymology of the word Transfiguration? What does the word mean to you? Provide one example of transfiguration,” Jo read off the paper.

Rafa closed his eyes, trying to recall what he had put on his homework. “Transfigurations… it originated between 1325 and 1375. It means to change one thing to another. I think I used…” he chewed his lip for a moment, trying to remember exactly what he put down as his example. “Vera Verto. Y’know, the one that changes a bird to a water goblet.” A yawn escaped his lips, and he covered his mouth.

He wrinkled his nose, the smell of plants horribly evident in the room. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, swatting the air in front of him. “Who died and fell in mud, pray tell?” he asked Jo, the humor gone. Wow, it really was starting to stink. He looked at Jo, a very non-amused look on his face.

“Transfigurations… it originated between 1325 and 1375. It means to change one thing to another. I think I used…”

Jo raised her eyebrows at the phrase. He used?

“Vera Verto. Y’know, the one that changes a bird to a water goblet.”

“Well, guess I shouldn’t be using that one, then.”
Jo flipped through a worn yellowed manuscript, picking off a bit of old binding glue that had fallen into her lap and flicking it to the ground.

I’ll try Duro. She said simply with a shrug.

“Jesus Christ, who died and fell in mud, pray tell?”

Jo’s quill ceased its scribbling at the insult, and she looked up, her large, fiery eyes boring into the cocky Gryffindor’s head.

Is that an accusation or a confession? She stared as the dark circles under the boy’s eyes, trying her best to mirror his smirk.
You look like an Inferius yourself. And haven’t you ever smelled lavender before? On second thought, you’re rather barbaric - I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t. Either way, I’ll teach you something today. To the civilized mind, it’s actually quite a pleasant smell.

It was at this time that Jo noticed a small, glittering emerald-hued beetle slowly lumbering across her parchment. Her movement was precise, but slow. The young witch placed her quill on the beetle’s back and pushed it through with a squish, watching intently as it seemed to dance for her. Its minuscule legs whipped through the air in a frenzied ballet before falling to its sides and resting.

Jo swiftly raised the quill (and the impaled bug as well) to eye level and plucked off the creature’s iridescent wings and twitching antennae. In the blink of an eye she had shimmied a small foil sleeve out of a muslin drawstring pouch and now carefully slipped the virescent pieces into it. An observant student might notice that her fingers were stained a similar shade with grass - the girl wiped them on her robe as she returned the pouch to her pocket.

She thought she heard the boy say something —but she wasn’t sure. She was too fixated on cleaning the tip of her quill.

She returned her gaze to him now as she tapped her quill against the desk and shifted a few books to the right so that they wouldn’t fall off the edge.

@Jo Morgan

Jo, once again, was not amused with his snarky remarks. She had jolted at his little insult, her demeanor practically licking with flames. He had to grin – he really did enjoy getting on her nerves. It was so satisfying, getting a rise out of her. “Is that an accusation or a confession?” she bit back at him, quite pointedly observing his wear. There was this look on her face – she looked so amused at the fact that he was about to pass out. Rafa sent her an unimpressed look, but secretly, he was a bit amused himself. “You look like an Inferius yourself,” she added. “And haven’t you ever smelled lavender before?”

At that last comment, she seemed to take a double take. “On second thought,” she said rather disgustedly, “You’re rather barbaric - I wouldn’t be surprised if you hadn’t. Either way, I’ll teach you something today. To the civilized mind, it’s actually quite a pleasant smell.”

“To the civilized mind~” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, his hand moving to the rhythm of his syllables. He had this playful look about him – if she looked close enough, she would be able to see how much he was enjoying this. “I will have you know,” he told her matter-of-factly, “ that I have, in fact, smelled lavender.” It was a rather sickeningly scent – his sister sprayed it all over the damn place at their house in Barking. He could hardly stand the putrid smell. Besides. The scent he was smelling did not have even the remote traces of flower. At least, where he was sitting. He would never admit it, but he had a rather strange nose on him. “That’s not lavender,” he conceded, eyebrow raised. “That’s cow shit. Potted a few too many plants, you have.” He shook his head in a superior way, cocking his head to the side as if he were looking down on her. Of course, an act.

Though, he noted that Jo’s attention didn’t seem to be on him any longer – instead, it was focused on this little beetle climbing all over her papers. It had been all content climbing all over her parchment, but of course, Jo had to screw things up. She jammed her pen right through the little beetle’s back, ending its life. It’s reflexes shot, the little bug started to wriggle. Rafa found himself positively sick. A spark of indignation rose shortly in his stomach. It wasn’t fair. “What the hell, man?” he heard himself saying. His pen was held firmly in his hand. He felt like he was about to snap it in two. “What’s the point of that, now?”

He didn’t think she could hear him, however, as she seemed very focused on sweeping the bug’s remains into a little pouch. This ticked Rafa off quite a bit – she wasn’t listening to him. She wasn’t even listening. Feeling his patience levels flicker, he coughed very pointedly, in hopes of gaining her attention. “’Ey! You going to answer my question?” he asked with indignance. No, ignoring him would simply not do. It was a whole different ball game than insults or sarcasm. He could feel his own flames flickering at the sides of his vision. When his flames came out, it got messy. Though, he willed them away a bit – there was always the chance that she simply didn’t hear him.

“’Ey! You going to answer my question?”

Jo looked up at the boy, who looked as if he was about to puke. His knuckles were white from gripping his pen.

“Sorry, what? I didn’t hear it.” She followed his gaze to her quill and realized she had some explaining to do.

“Oh…that was a scarab beetle! They’re kind of rare, so I couldn’t let this one get away. I’ll grind the pieces later to practice making Wit-Sharpening Potions. You can have some if you want - I dare say you’ll be needing it.” She flashed him a grin, trying to lighten the situation. He was a bit angrier than she had expected. “It’s just a joke - calm down! I’m not really saying you’re stupid. Besides, the torso has a lot of protein, and since I was going to visit the Venomous Tentacula later to give it a Chizpurfle, I figured it could do with an extra snack.” She tried her best for a different smile - one more innocent. “Besides, these beetles are actually an invasive species. By letting it live, I’d be hurting the local Scottish plants that it eats.”

Jo tucked away the rest of the black, metallic bug into another pouch. “See? Never happened.” She shook the bag loudly (Something made a clinking noise - most likely a Chizpurfle carapace). This was a normal occurrence for the young witch - she was fond of collecting things in case she or anyone else needed them later. She was always the friend with the tissues, the band-aids, the vials of salamander blood, and the safety pins. The only problem was just how disorganized the girl was - she certainly had everything, but no idea where.

The Gryffindor stretched, having finally finished cleaning her quill. She dipped it in ink and checked the time - only fifteen minutes left until her next class. Damn. They’d have to hurry in order to get something done.

@Jo Morgan

It seemed safe to say that her silence was a mistake. She looked up, seeming rather surprised by his outburst. “Oh…that was a scarab beetle!” she exclaimed, after noticing her pen. “They’re kind of rare, so I couldn’t let this one get away. I’ll grind the pieces later to practice making Wit-Sharpening Potions. You can have some if you want - I dare say you’ll be needing it.” She seemed to be trying to make him feel better or something, because she had this funny sort of look on her face. But it didn’t seem too funny, just killing bugs. Call it a hero complex. Call it whatever.

Jesus, Christ, Rafa. You bloody greenbean. The irony of the situation hit him like a train. It was a bloody bug! Rafa shook his head, his sudden anger gone. It wasn’t his business, if she went around stepping on bugs. Why did he care so much? It occurred to him that perhaps he had lost his temper too much – he felt partially bad. For a moment, he considered apologizing. But his ego didn’t really seem up to that.

“It’s just a joke - calm down!” she added. Wow, he must have looked pissed or something. “I’m not really saying you’re stupid. Besides, the torso has a lot of protein, and since I was going to visit the Venomous Tentacula later to give it a Chizpurfle, I figured it could do with an extra snack.” She offered him an innocent smile – well, more innocent, anyway. “Besides,” she said, “these beetles are actually an invasive species. By letting it live, I’d be hurting the local Scottish plants that it eats.”

“Wow, you’re so thoughtful,” Rafa mumbled, shaking his head. He wasn’t so angry anymore. His tiredness was leaking back into his demeanor, and he sighed, rubbing his eyes. He could just feel the time ticking by – it was a bit disheartening, knowing that none of their work was getting done. He glanced over, seeing Jo shake a little bag. “See? Never happened,” she told him, shaking the little bag firmly. It made a loud noise, which slightly humored Rafa – he allowed himself to let his mind wander, imagining what could possibly be in her bag. His eyes landed on his paper, the ink all messy and smeared. He must have rubbed his hand over the paper when he was writing – he was mostly ambidextrous, but generally wrote with his left hand.

He shook his head, regaining his focus. “Erm, what’s the next question?” he asked, running a hand through his hair. His eyes scanned the questions quickly.

“Oh yeah - how does Transfiguration relate to the scientific field of physics and why?”

"Wow, you’re so thoughtful."

He seemed more tired than angry now, and Jo bit her lip as the beetle went into the bag. Perhaps she'd chosen the wrong time to collect the wings- but she just felt like she'd be needing it later, and she'd regret not having it. Either way, Rafa seemed too tired to kick her ass, so she was fine. It's not like they hated each other or anything anyway, they just... hated each other. Did that make sense? That didn't make any sense, but it was entirely true nevertheless.

“Erm, what’s the next question? Oh yeah - how does Transfiguration relate to the scientific field of physics and why?”

She stretched and let out a dramatic sigh, twirling the quill between her fingers.

"That's a really difficult question. I'm actually not sure. I don't know too much about physics. But isn't physics about atoms - the particles that make up objects? Transfiguration is about creating, destroying, or changing those particles, so I guess they're kind of similar in a way, although I guess it would be closer to chemistry. But then again, physics teaches you about the laws of nature (by which I mean mundane, non-magical nature) , and it's better if you know those laws before you "break" them through magic."

Jo spied a redhead in a yellow robe wandering through the aisles towards her, dangling a cauldron. She pointed towards the potions section with her quill- the girl blushed furiously and ran off.

"In what ways can Transfiguration go wrong?" She read the third question.

"Ughhh... I guess the transfiguration could be half-complete? You could mispronounce the spell or wave your wand wrong. Geez...Any ideas?"

She didn't want to bother him too much - he seemed awfully drained.

OOC: I can't find the errand - would you be able to send it to me? I'd totally love to do it, though!

@Jo Morgan

Jo, upon hearing his question, let out a massive sigh, delving into this long, deep explanation that rather tired Rafa. He allowed himself to close his eyes and shut her words out, instead thinking of more important things. Like chicken wings… His stomach rumbled suddenly. Oh, yeah, I skipped lunch, didn’t I? Typical of him. He put his head in his hands, inwardly cursing the universe. Hogwarts didn’t have alarm clocks – his dorm mate had forgotten to wake him up. Life was funny that way.

He rubbed his eyes, repositioning his chin on his hand. In a split-second moment, he noticed a look of recognition on Jo’s face. He turned in the direction she was pointing at her quill, but seemed to miss the person in question. Though, he didn’t think too much of it, as his brain was getting foggier as the moments passed on.

"In what ways can Transfiguration go wrong?" he suddenly heard – oh, Jo was asking another question. He did his best to focus on her words, but was having a rather hard time. "Ughhh... I guess the transfiguration could be half-complete?” she said, sort of unsure. “You could mispronounce the spell or wave your wand wrong. Geez...Any ideas?"

“Ummmm…” He scrunched his face up in a tired sort of way, searching the depths of his brain for an answer. “If you are transfiguring something alive, you could end up killing it. They’re so complex and all, and Transfigurations is so hard to do right.” What else… he bit his lip in thought. ”In some cases, if you miscalculate your spell, your object could end up half-transfigured, or be stuck in some permanent state. Oh, and don’t forget the explosions.” He shuddered, reminiscing one of his classes. It was of the sort that you could never forget.

He looked down at his paper, a yawn escaping his lips. “Erm… What letter is not included in the magical alphabet? And why?” he asked, his pen drawing doodles on the side of his paper. God, he was being a bore. More ammo for Jo, he supposed. Though, he couldn’t bring himself to care too much at the moment, instead drifting back into his thoughts.