Closed Meticulous, Punctilious, Persnickety PV Sarah

It wasn’t unusual for the Slytherin to be found in the Charms classroom after class. In fact, her spare time was spread mostly between there and the library, often spending hours learning and perfecting any spell she could find to practise. It was something she’d always done, striving for perfection she never quite felt she’d reached. Her mother had once told her it would be both her saving grace and her Achilles heel. She supposed she finally understood what her mother had meant. She spent hours practising, often forgoing food and sleep in order to equip a new spell to her arsenal, or charm to her pocket. When it came to charms, there was never too much for her to learn.

Sarah was a Slytherin through and through, though her aptitude for learning and innate desire to perfect anything she set her mind on, heavily favoured the values befitting a Ravenclaw. It was something she’d found herself in a heated argument about just last week. An obnoxious first year Slytherin had attempted to pick a fight with her - the foolish child she was - claiming she’d be better suited in another house. Her biting retort and steely glare had been enough to quieten the girl who’d practically ran away with her tail between her legs. Any guilt she might have felt about using her intimidating appearance to scold the younger girl had been quickly wiped away when just a day later she’d her insulting a Hufflepuff in the corridor. Sarah certainly didn’t regret her sharp words.

Still, the notion stayed with her, the idea that she held many Ravenclaw traits. She considered the thought as she watched the crowd of students pile out of the classroom doors, no doubt in search of something to eat. She herself had no desire to join the horde, rather preferring the thought of staying and practising her magic.

She’d expected the classroom to be left empty, doubting any other student would pass up the opportunity of food to better their spellcasting. This was why, when the door had closed behind who she’d assumed to be the last student, she jumped at the muttering of a spell a few feet from her. Her eyes immediately locked on to the somewhat familiar Gryffindor - Zyk she seemed to remember his name being - and allowed herself a few moments to observe him. She had wondered whether she’d see the boy again, mind cast back to the day in the library a few weeks prior. She smirked as she recalled his assumption of she and Paisley being together. If only he’d seen us dancing at the ball. She bit back a laugh, unsure whether he’d even noticed her presence yet. He seemed engrossed in what he was doing, so perhaps not.

She went to approach him, pausing momentarily to consider whether he’d actually appreciate an interruption. She realised she didn’t care all that much; the first time they’d met he had after all been the one to interrupt her conversation. She moved towards him, making her way to a nearby desk and gracefully positioning herself atop it.

"Zyk, if my memory serves me correctly. I don’t believe I ever properly introduced myself." She let her head tilt slightly as her patent sideways smirk settled across her features, "I’m Sarah." She crossed one leg over the other, eyes flicking to the wand he so expertly twirled around his fingers. "Interesting choice of spell," she appraised. "It’s on my ‘to learn’ list. Any pointers?" In the moments she’d previously spoken to the boy, she’d deemed him self-assured, and so assumed the concealed compliment her words held may appeal and not ‘bore’ him in the way their last interaction had ended. [/font]

There wasn't a moment that he suspected that anyone would approach him, his reputation had grown in these last few months to be an adequate dueler as well as one that tended to sling his wand whenever he got the chance. Besides his spellwork, rumors had spread the previous year of his exploits in the dating department and it left a reputation upon his shoulders that made him think twice whenever he found himself befriending new people. Fortunately, these actions by others and himself led him to become more quick-witted with his words, even faster with his wand.

For these reasons, he was unprepared to be addressed. As his eyes were closed as he repeated the incantation in his head, his wand steadily spinning within the fingers of his hand, the sound of a familiar girl's voice entertained his ears. The rotation of his wand stopped then, the hilt smacking into the palm of his hand and it was raised in the direction of the girl's voice before his lids even revealed those hidden eyes. Slowly, he'd raise his lids and golden irises peered over towards the girl he had once seen in the library not too long before. It was the fact that she remembered his name that got him to slowly lower his wand down to his side as he appraised the girl for a moment.

Offering her name, Sarah, he nodded slowly as his head tilted to the side. Zykeals mind raced momentarily to their previous encounter to see if there should be any reason that he needed to be on guard, it took a moment, but, he decided to release the tension that had stiffened his shoulders when she intruded upon his concentration. "Hello," he paused for a moment, "Sarah," he said. A moment later she decided to comment on the spell and incantation that he was reciting previously and he couldn't help but let a small smile curl the right side of his features. Straightening his head once more, still looking towards the girl, he offered a shrug to her question, "Might' be," he countered, "Depends."

Oddly enough, this was how Zykeal tended to treat people he wasn't too familiar with, an air of playfulness that seemed to bring out the arse' in him to some who couldn't handle his dry humor. Once again, the boy started the rotation of that ivory-colored wand through the fingers of his dominant hand as he stared into the girls' eyes for the moment. One of the things that meant the most to him, besides his love of spellwork, was wand lore. This came from an obsession with his own wand and the wood that it was made of, his aspirations to become a wandmaker were known by few, but, any with eyes could notice the calluses that formed in the young boy's hands from the use of his carving knife.

"What kind of wand do you have?"

There were few instances where this would matter to people at the school, most people didn't take care of their wand as he did; hell, they barely carried it at all most of the time. Spending his time reading the different types of wands and how they choose their wizards was great knowledge to him, it helped him determine the kind of person they were whether they knew it or not. This was why the boy wanted to know the girls wand first, almost a test, to see if they could get along before even exchanging any more words and wasting either of the students' times. Holding out the hand that rotated his own wand, he finally broke his gaze of the girl and looked down at it as he slowed the rotation to a stop.

"I wield an Aspen wood wand, Phoenix Feather, 25.6 centimeters," he confirmed.

@Sarah Lightwood

Sarah was surprisingly unperturbed to have a wand pointed at her. Be it a cause of growing up in her household where wands were often waved in usually false threats, or perhaps just her stubborn ego which left her comfortable enough to handle herself should a spell be flung at her. Regardless of reason, Sarah was not worried as Zyk held his wand towards her, watching him with a mildly amused glint in her bright eyes. She was never one to listen to gossip, having bore the brunt of it more times than she could count, but she’d heard the stories of the Gryffindor’s ability with his wand and was pleasantly surprised that his reputation proceeded him.

When his eyes finally met hers, Sarah saw his initial unease, no doubt he’d not been expecting company. She allowed herself a second to regret interrupting him, realising he’d likely wanted to focus on his spells alone, but it quickly passed. Her curiosity always got the better of her, never one to leave something alone, even when she knew she probably should. Her mind briefly cast back to the time she’d unintentionally provoked another student last year and had ended up with a black eye. She’d been justified in her provocations, of course, not someone to allow bigots to go unchecked. As he lowered his wand, barely attempting to hide his assessing glance, he seemed to relax, then tension seeping from his body. Sarah felt hers do the same.

She tried to keep a straight face, even as she watched Zykeal smirk. The teasing lilt of his words was more than welcomed, though. There were too many boring people at this school, but she’d gotten the impression that this Gryffindor wasn’t one of them. She hummed in acknowledgement, biting down on her lower lip as her eyes flicked up and down, assessing him. “Depends,” She repeated, finally allowing her face to mirror Zyk’s as her lips pulled up into a small grin.

As he went back to spinning his wand between nimble fingers, Sarah considered a teasing quip about giving him and his wand a moment alone. The only thing that stopped her was that she wasn’t entirely certain he wouldn’t actually agree and ask her to leave. His gaze was intense, amber eyes locked onto green. It was odd for someone to so openly maintain eye contact with her, either fear or uncertainty enough to deter most. Though Zyk seemed unfazed and so she didn’t allow his eyes to unnerve her either, staring right back at him.

His question almost caused their eye contact to break, mild confusion flooding the Slytherin. It was an odd question, one she wasn’t sure anyone had ever actually asked her before. Most students didn’t care for their wand, or rather didn’t care for their wand type. She’d noticed it in first year, mostly among those who had been raised in the absence of magic, that most just saw their wand as a means of casting spells. Sarah wasn’t well-versed in wand lore, she knew very little of how and why wands chose their owners and the sort, but she knew it was important to have a compatible wand - she could feel it whenever she cast with her own, an extension of her own self. But he seemed curious, clearly more interested in wands than the young Ravenclaw she’d seen using his wand to scratch his back the other day.

She shifted slightly on the table, allowing herself to pluck her own wand out from the inside pocket of her robe where she always to comfort in feeling the wood resting. She held it out, noting the difference in length immediately despite the similar wood. Her wand was on the longer side, a supposed reflection of her energy and charisma. “Aspen wood, snallygaster heartstring, measuring in a whopping 33.0cm,” She listed, her voice akin to someone who presented a sport in which opponents weights were given. She allowed herself a small chuckle as she flipped her wand round once with notably less grace than when Zyk did it. “Ollivander told me I’d ‘grow into it’, whatever that meant,” She smiled, remembering the day she’d visited the old wizard. Despite its length, it was weighted perfectly, even for her smaller body. She’d always been fond of it.

“We both have Aspen wood,” She noted, looking back up at the Gryffindor. “Does that mean we’re destined to be great friends or terrible enemies depending on how this interaction plays out? In which case, I better pull out the charm,” She questioned teasingly, though she truly was curious as to what it meant for two wizards to share a wand of the same wood. Perhaps nothing. Or perhaps it said a lot.

Some said that his direct eye contact unnerved those with little confidence in themselves, flickering hues always seemed to do the opposite to him, made him on edge. This girl though seemed to meet his challenge. With their eyes locked upon each other, he could at least make an initial observation that his time would most likely not be wasted; hopefully. The way she didn't flutter when he had brandished his wand upon her as well, defiantly stoic, forced him to put more respect on her name than he normally gave others. Now, the depths of their interaction would come down to the simple question he would soon ask of the girl.

Yes, how simple his mind was at times, when it came down to the answer to his question of the make of her wand, everything mattered to the boy. Those startling eyes of his shifted only from her own to when she shifted her hand to withdraw her wand from the inside of her robes. There was a flicker of shine in his eyes when they spotted the make of the wood that was slowly being pulled out. Even before she finished pulling out the wand fully, his eyes would dart back to the girl's own hues and only observe her actions furthermore through his peripheral vision. Zykeals mouth slightly twitched almost into a smile once more when she listed the making of her partner.

Seeing no issue with a longer wand, as he fully believed the old myths that the wand chose the wizard, he'd just offer a slight agreement of a nod on her comments towards he old wandmaker, "It's a beautiful partner," he added on, his eyes drifting between her wand and the girl's eyes once more. Having let his wand settle from its consistent rotation, he kept it rested at his waist, both of his own hands clasping the hilt. Now though, he'd let one of the hands be released from it and bring it to the edge of the desk he was against, rapping his fingers against the wooden edge for a moment as he gave a thought. She spoke, which broke the silence, this was appreciated as he almost had no idea how to advance for a moment.

"Charm?" he asked, finally letting his strained neck have a moment of released tension when he shifted his gaze around the room they were currently in, "Suppose tis' would be the best place to display such things," he said in retort. The crease of the smile left upon his features was genuine for once, not forced by boring social norms and it felt good to actually take a moment not to put up a false pretense of acceptance of ignorant classmates that he normally had to deal with. Looking down towards the floor for a moment, he added more, "Friends, enemies, lovers, haters... relationships are complicated.." he halted, thought, then continued, "In my eyes, it means you're an exceptional wizard," he nodded in conclusion.

For some reason, the tension of their interaction seemed to pull at strings within the boy. These were the type of situation that you never knew if someone was about to become your mortal enemy, as she had said, it was a difficult decision to seemingly push himself forward to be able to make a new friend or another in the list of endless enemies that he had. It seemed even at this most recent ball, he had almost doubled his list, which he didn't mind as he knew he could handle those blithering idiots, but, it would add another person to look out for. Lifting his wand, he'd tap it against the side of his temple for a moment as he continued to stare at Sarah.

Seemingly random, he stood and started to walk away from the girl for a moment. Letting his wand fall to his side as he took a few paces away from the girl and down the middle of the classroom. After about 10 of these paces, he turned around and looked towards Sarah for a moment, "Hit me with your best charm," he said clearly, "call it, professional curiosity," he amusingly twisted his tone of speech to align with the slight tilt to his head; playful. It was almost a direct challenge to the girl to see what she could hit him with. Maybe she wouldn't want to play this little game he had set up in his head, but, he thought she might be keen to take a free shot at him. After a second, he called out to her once more, "No slugs though, that shite' is annoyin'," he truly didn't want to bother puking up slugs in front of this girl, after all, she was kind of cute.

@Sarah Lightwood

Sarah found her eyes following the motion of his hands, head slightly tilted. People watching had always been one of her favourite hobbies, ever curious with how others moved and spoke and acted. Of course, usually she wasn’t being so closely watched back. Still, she allowed herself another moment to watch nimble fingers thrum against the desk’s wood - he clearly struggled keeping his hands still - before bringing her attention back up to Zyk’s eyes. If she’d felt any embarrassment because of her staring, she didn’t let it show, equally meeting his gaze.

She chuckled lightly at his joke, rolling her eyes at the bad pun, amused. She was uncertain as to whether she liked the fact that he’d been able to make her laugh or not. Her guard had slipped without her realising and she debated whether or not she should put it back up, regain the control her mask had always provided. Her ability to laugh on cue was one she’d mastered years ago, though she rarely let those who she didn’t consider friends pull real laughter from her. She hesitated, still undecided about where he fell on the ‘friendship’ scale. She was still intrigued, and she didn’t want to slap him yet which was always a positive. She realised his words were scarily accurate, relationships were complicated.

“There’s a fine line between love and hate,” Sarah agreed, all too acquainted with the notion. She hated her father and everything he stood for, practically despised the man he’d become after their family had been torn apart, but she knew a part of her would also always love him. She was about to go on a tangent about loving her shoes she’d worn to the ball but hating the fact that she still had the blisters they’d given her when he spoke again. Exceptional. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard that word used in relation to herself. Resolutely ignoring the colour which rose to her cheeks, she opted for teasing rather than gratitude - choosing safer ground. “An exceptional wizard because I wield aspen. I feel as though you’re projecting,” she smiled coyly, pushing a strand of green hair back behind her ear as she observed him.

His sudden movement was jarring, seemingly coming from nowhere. Was he leaving? Perhaps he was bored again. She frowned, eyes trained on his retreating form as he continued walking away. She’d have called out, scolding him for being rude, had he not suddenly stopped and turned in an equally jarring manner which left Sarah with a sense of whiplash. Her gaze caught his, questioningly.

"Hit me with your best charm.” Widened eyes assessed the boy. It was a strange request, one she could safely say had never been asked of her before. She might have been shocked had it come from any other student here at Hogwarts, to want a random spell thrown at you by a random Slytherin. But it didn’t seem all that out of place coming from the Gryffindor’s lips. Whether it was his reputation for being proficient in spell casting, or his strange aversion to common social cues which Sarah had picked up on within the first few minutes they’d met, something about the request seemed normal. As thought it was the natural progression of their conversation.

“Professional curiosity,” She huffed in mild disbelief, "Crazy, more like." Sarah felt her lips curl, a silent acceptance to whatever sort of challenge this was. It wasn’t as though she often found herself in this position - actively being asked to throw a spell at a peer - and she wasn’t about to deny the opportunity. She allowed herself a moment’s thought, eyes which had kept firm contact with gold finally flicking away to look Zyk up and down. She wasn’t malicious by nature, and it wasn’t as though she wanted to maim the boy, so that removed a rather large collection of charms in her repertoire. And as much as she wanted to go against his wishes and hurl a slug-vomitting charm at him just to see his reaction, she eventually decided against that as well. She tapped her wand against her thigh twice in contemplation, before pushing off of the table and turning to face him directly. He no doubt expected something mundane - a disarming charm or binding spell perhaps. Maybe even a freezing charm, though Sarah couldn’t see much fun in that.

Would he block the spell, or simply let it hit him? It seemed ridiculous to think he wouldn’t at least try to defend himself. She looked back over his face, eyes briefly landing on his lips. Always so purposefully placed, she found herself thinking, realising how deliberate each of his expressions seemed to be. It was a similar strategy to her own - a precise tilt of the head or curve of the lip - enough of a reaction to seem genuine, without letting your guard slip. He seemed amused though had done little more than offer slight smiles in the time she’d been with him.

When the spell came to her, she knew it was perfect, for her own amusement if nothing else. No, perhaps it wasn’t her best charm, nothing overly impressive, and perhaps that would disappoint the Gryffindor, but she couldn’t help thinking that the result would be worth it. After all, she enjoyed making people laugh - surely this is no different, she smirked inwardly. She raised her brow, the only warning she offered before she cast the spell. “Rictusempra,” She called out, feeling the telltale thrum of magic flow through her as she pointed her wand in Zyk’s direction, green eyes bright - bordering wild.

Zykeal didn't know if it was forced or not, her laugh, it was one of those times when people tried to hide their true intentions and went into a quick thought of if this was the side of the choosing hat that put the girl in the house that she was within. There was a level of detail in her limited emotional reactions that caused him to hesitantly wonder if he was placed in the wrong house all along, she was, admirable, with the way she presented herself. When she responded with her assessment on his comment upon relationships, he felt a little twitch within him that radiated in a jovial nature. Zyk squashed this instantly, he couldn't keep falling into the same trap and amused himself by thinking that it was their twin wand bases that made their personalities so akin.

To this degree, he'd wait to hear her response to his next statement, she of course once again amused him; was she just playing along or actually being genuine? This and only this caused him to be a little more reserved furthermore. The second-year Gryffindor was still young and although students of this age shouldn't be on-guard as he was, unfortunately, circumstances had negated the possibility of trust forming within the boy at the time being. It was unfortunate then that she decided to do one of those things that simply shifted his feelings instantly; she shifted her hair behind her ear. What a weird thing for him to be attracted to. Once again though, he suppressed the feeling like he felt he should and nodded without a trace of difference upon his features.

The boy sprung then, needing a distraction and finding any way that he could to set the tone for a new idea that would put her off guard, sometimes, he felt like he needed to be in control of things. This was not a Gryffindor trait, he questioned again, but, resolved himself into thinking that this magical world placed him in the correct place for a reason. For this reason, he sauntered off without saying anything and did his best to confuse the girl, he needed an 'out', but, also needed a way to try and form trust between the two. One way he thought, as he walked away from her, was that he was a dueler and an absolute appreciation of charmwork. This would garner the idea that he would ask for a spell from her towards him.

"Crazy, more like." she offered, he didn't deny it.

It was when he watched her then that he saw the lips curl and the concentration comes together in the Slytherin girl. She was amused that she took such a dilemma within the actual request that he had made. The boy found this endearing, the quick moment of contemplation, the indecision of what was right and wrong. Towards his nature, he was reckless and absolutely serious when he made the request of the girl at the time. There was no hesitation within his mind, he had made his thoughts clear with his words as he had always done and never admonished those decisions. It was thus amusing to watch her struggle with his request, to not sling a slug-vomiting charm at him, knowing that full well she might be provoked enough to do so.

The fact was, he was openly prepared to take whatever she wanted to throw at him. Once again, reckless. What she didn't know were the hardships that he had gone through at the recent ball and dueling tournament that shifted his entire friendships down to a minimum. Zykeal was betrayed then, to the utmost degree, so he thought. It wasn't just this that caused his request from the girl, she had a presence of her own and it took him by storm with their limited interactions. Indeed, what he said and she responded to was correct; they were either going to hate each other or love each other in their own ways.

As he stood there, still as he could manage with that obvious issue with consistently needing to fiddle with his fingers, he'd just stare into the girl's eyes and memorize the distinctive color of them. It was then that he noticed that her intent was true and he couldn't help but smile as she uttered the spell between those lips of hers. Lids closed over those golden eyes of his and he waited to be hit with whatever she decided. Although she might have spoken audibly, he refused to hear it, wanting to take whatever malice that she had within her with full force and wondering what the extent of her spell would entail.

It surprised him then that it was such a simple spell; truly. The tickling charm had hit him in full force and he buckled slightly into laughter that he fought completely. In honesty, he both loved and hated the fact that she made him laugh as he hadn't done so in a while. It was something that he hadn't expected and he let himself keel over for a moment as his twitching hand shifted grasped ahold of his own aspen-wood wand once more. With those lids raising and golden eyes looking upon the green-haired girl, he couldn't describe his own facial expression as he maneuvered his wand and quickly short worded the spell upon himself, "Finite'," he cast, the flick of the wand with a considerable level of concentration to subdue this dreadful spell that she had cast upon him

Once he could regain control of himself, he'd straighten once more, lids closing over his hues and taking a few deep breaths as to re-center himself among his current company. It took just a few seconds, for him, a year. The boy hated not being in control of his own body and didn't like the manipulation that magic had upon others in that sense. That prejudice had nothing to do with the capable spellcaster that stood before him though. With his lids rising to reveal those golden irises once more, he let them bore into Sarahs' own and offered a genuine smile to the girl. One he felt he hadn't done in ages.

"Are you dating that first-year?"

What a bold question he blurted out. There were two different reasons that he had asked the question but he wouldn't relinquish either of the thoughts within his mind towards the girl at the moment. Zykeal would just let the question be aired out in the middle of the charms classroom and wait for a response from the green-haired girl. Of course, the boy, stoic as ever, showed little to no emotion.

@Sarah Lightwood

A wave of emotions overwhelmed her the moment the spell had been cast. She was surprised that he’d allowed himself to be hit without even attempting to block the spell. She was humoured by the result her magic had created. She felt respect that he’d allowed himself to be vulnerable, eyes closed and at her mercy.

But perhaps most strongly of all was the unbridled joy which she felt swell within her chest. She loved to cast, the thrill which came with it, one she’d be lost without. But her opportunities to fully allow her to enjoy it were limited to that of a classroom or those more mundane tasks which magic was so helpful for. She’d wanted to try out for the Slytherin duelling team, drawn towards anything which would allow her to grow and flourish as a spellcatser. But her lack of faith in others, the trust which she found near impossible to build, had been enough to put her off. She’d seen how some wizards walked away from a friendly duel and didn’t want to risk a nasty vendetta causing fall prey to such a thing. It was nice to simply be able to throw a spell at someone else, without malice but curiosity.

She focused back on the crumpled form before her, a laugh not forced by magic slipping past her curled lips. She could see the struggle to suppress the effects of her magic - one which would be lost as he continued to chuckle. Sarah adamantly ignored how much she enjoyed the sound, his accent apparently pulling through to laughter just as much as it did his words. She silently promised herself that she’d hear it again, by her own merit rather than through a spell.

Eventually he looked up, gaze catching Sarah’s, as he flicked his wand. His eyes held a mirth which was likely a result of her spell, though she wondered – hoped – that some of it was real. Questions started swimming round her mind. What had he been expecting? Had she irritated him? Why did he keep looking at her like that? Ceasing the spell, he took a moment to level his breathing. She tried to gauge his reaction, searching for annoyance or anger or anything else which could be considered reasonably placed on his face. She knew she’d not be too impressed had someone cast it on her, even if their intentions had been innocent like hers had been. Her laughter which had been replaced by poorly hidden giggling, was replaced by a genuine smile which was all teeth and bright eyes. It wouldn’t do to have him thinking she was laughing at him, rather than with him.

An odd nervousness spread within her as he finally looked back at her, fingers absently picking at the hem of her skirt as her smile faltered. For a second, she half expected him to turn around and leave, perhaps dissatisfied with her spell of choice or irritated that she’d used it. But then he smiled, and she felt the uncertainty slip away. She opened her mouth to ask one of the many questions she felt flitting through her brain, but he beat her to it.

"Are you dating that first-year?"

The boldness of his question threw her slightly off kilter, the words unexpected - even from this boy who apparently didn’t know the meaning of the word. A part of her felt exposed, perhaps due to a lifetime of living with a man like her father whose opinions of that sort of relationship were even lower than his opinions on those with ‘lesser blood’. She knew such thoughts were more rarely shared among those her age - a more open-minded and accepting generation - but bigots could be found in all age groups as she’d become aware of early on. Not that Zykeal seemed the sort. His face didn’t show much emotion, but his eyes didn’t seem cruel or disgusted at the idea. She let the worry settle, considering his words.

Perhaps the natural answer to such a question would be to ask which specific first year the boy was referring too. After all, he’d not said a name, nor a house, which might suggest who exactly he meant. Though Sarah immediately knew. It wasn’t as if she had many people in her life who she was close enough with to even call a friend, let alone be considered a partner. Paisley appeared to be one of the few exceptions to the rule, the pair having broken down each other’s walls the night of the ball in a strange, uncharacteristic display of trust and emotion.

Even then, had Sarah had a multitude of potential ‘first years’ to be dating, Paisley was the obvious conclusion. After all, the first time Sarah had met the bright-eyed Gryffindor, he’d voiced a similar opinion of them: ’secret lovers’ he had assumed. She wondered what it meant, that Zyk had mentioned their potential relationship not once, but twice now. She managed not to dwell on it for more than a few seconds, instead letting her face form a small grin.

“Always with the assumptions,” Sarah said, her lilted voice softening the teasing smirk on her face, far less serious than his words seemed to have been. He’d asked a question, though it was presumptuous as best. She’d managed to regain her composure, though the initial shock had no doubt been evident on her face. “Can’t two girls sneak around in a library or go to a masquerade together?” Admittedly, when voiced it that way, perhaps them dating was the obvious conclusion. It seemed mildly absurd to her; she cherished Paisley, but as a friend and no more. She paused for a moment, letting her words linger as though she was considering the idea herself.

“I mean, look at us, alone in a classroom together. We should be careful, a self-righteous Gryffindor might see and make an assumption about our relationship,” She raised a brow, chewing on the inside of her lip to stop it from quirking upwards. She stood in the middle of the classroom staring at him and silently wished she was back in her purposefully casual position on the desk. Safer ground.

She let the quiet linger for a few more seconds before her light laughter broke it. “No. Paisley and I are just friends,” she said, finally offering him an answer. She watched his eyes closely, searching for something she wasn’t sure of, perhaps anything. His eyes seemed to be his only feature which at least offered some insight into what he seemed to be thinking. “Though I’m sure she’d be thrilled to be dating an exceptional wizard such as myself,” She threw his earlier words back at him. She took the moment to dramatically twirl on the spot, green hair wild behind her.

“I’m quite the catch,” the words felt strange, but she smiled around them anyway. It was a peculiar muggle saying she’d overheard a few times from some of her housemates and she could only hope that she was using it correctly. Perhaps muggles enjoy being likened to fish. She’d managed to learn more about muggle culture in the last few months, though was still far from well-versed in their curious yet quaint phrases.

Through the duration of the effect of the spell upon him, he had indeed noticed the light laughter of the girl who had cast the spell. Although he didn't hold this against her, there was a slight irk in the back of his mind as resented such actions towards him. Zykeal wasn't low enough to hold this against the girl though, he probably would have done the same, if he was, to be honest with himself.

With complete curiosity imbued within him was the reason he asked the question that had tipped the top of his mind the moment he had settled, fully in control of himself once more. There was a twitch upon the side of his mouth as he nearly smiled at his own whimsical words. Indeed, he was curious about her status in the relationship department, but, there wasn't much reasoning as to why he was so curious at the moment.

It felt as ages passed before he would get an answer, he knew that Sarah had a question or two of her own to which she was about to ask before he beat her to the punch with the randomness of his own words. During these few moments of hesitation, he'd use to opportunity to close the distance between the two once more as the twisting of his ivory-colored wand resumed within his fingers.

Settling himself to lean upon the edge of one of the desks that filled the classroom, he watched as her mental battle had concluded with a sly condemnation of his question. Zykeal paused the rotation of the wand in his hand and let his arms cross together in front of him as he watched the girl. It wasn't until she continued playfully in conversation about herself and the first-year that he decided to interject a comment, "Tis' just a question, call it curiosity?" he mused, the twist of his lips fulfilling its obligation of a smile.

Then she decided to tease him? How curious. Indeed someone could have peeked in to see the two together there and once again he'd hear the non-stop gossip that the common room of his house entertained. Unfortunately, it wouldn't have been the first time his name would have been at the forefront of this type of talk within these halls. Regardless, he didn't let this bother him. Zykeal would just offer a shrug and a playful few words in retort, "I have little doubt that the girls in my house would spin fantastical stories of us," he smirked, lids closing over golden hues once more to hide his distaste in his own house as of late.

Even though he was selected as a Gryffindor, mostly, he felt out of the realm of their annoying natures. Honestly, he was hoping he had made it into Slytherin house, but, fate had decided differently for the young Irish one. As his lids were closed for a moment, he noted the silence that lingered and let them rise once more to reveal the bright irises that pierced into the girl's own beautiful orbs.

Did she just awkwardly laugh? It caught him off-guard slightly as he assessed her next few words that came tumbling from her, just friends, she finally confirmed. There they came, those eyes dancing towards him once more and instead of keeping her gaze this time, he decided to let his eyes shift off across the room. Usually calculated in thought and demeanor, his body betrayed him, and a soft smile formed upon his features as he tried to look in another direction.

With her following words, he'd finally look back upon Sarah offered a slight nod to accompany the smile that lingered. When he was about to respond to her, she took a twirl, the colors of her appearance filling his eyes and keeping the smile upon his features. Quieting his words for a moment before she finally declared herself the prize of a muggles activity, "If you could be caught," he mused aloud, his words barely reaching above a whisper, but, enough for her to hear.

Although this was only their second interaction with each other, he seemed to be genuinely interested in her. Who knows which way the future would spin their paths, but, he decided there that he would play along for a while. Zykeal was still a very guarded boy though, he had traversed the dangerous paths of relationships within the school before and non-yet had proved to be a healthy mental situation.

"Well, Sarah, you're quite captivating," he smiled, knowing how dangerous that she would be in the future, "you might need to keep up the spellcasting to fend off the boys," and he smiled, "and the girls," he concluded. Those glowing golden hues flashing towards the door for a moment as he thought he had noticed something flicker at the entrance, knowing that their time must be coming to an end soon and another class would be in for their next session soon.

Twisting his look back towards the girl, he maintained the smile that didn't seem to want to fade and asked another question before they might be intruded upon, "Maybe, we could hang out outside of the classrooms sometime?" he questioned, "I'm not sure of your hobbies, but, I do tend to spend a lot of time carving wood as of late and..." he paused for a moment, "I'd like to get to know you more," he was usually more confident, but, she had a disarming way about her. Zykeal settled to let her answer the question he had proposed

@Sarah Lightwood