Misleading Love Letters Closed

I'm stuffed, diner just ended and I do believe I ate a bit to much bangers and mash, but I'm here in the small hall clutching jacks letter in my hands, I'm going to apolagize for going sycho on him when we first met and if he wants to hate me then that's fine, but I at least want to get the last word in. I know he's a muggle-born or half-blood its kinda obvious. He uses muggle slang and I've noticed a cell-phone he keeps in his pocket despite the lack of internet or signal and, despite what he thinks that could put him in danger. My dad would tell me stories about muggle-born kids getting hurt or dying at Hogwarts. For some reason I want to help him, trust him even and I just cant place why it's like he's somehow someone I knew a long time ago. Another part of me felt like maybe he wasn't to trust though and I know it's because of his house, after everything Slytherins did to my family who could blame me? Slytherins are the reason my family is broken and torn but I want to put that aside and be strong. I need to close the gap between Gryfindor and Slytherin starting with the stubbornest of them all, Jack.

I step into the small hall and glance around, their aren't many people in here almost everyone is up in the common rooms to hand out with house peers or get ready for bed. I don't see Jack so I go and sit by the fire and pull my sketch book out of my satchel and draw, I'll wait here for him until he gets here I just hope he actually comes. Sitting there alone I think of all the many ways this could go wrong, best case Jack doesn't show up worse case he waltzes in here and tries to hurt me, and of course there's always the in between place where he could storm away before I get a word in or I could have another anxiety attack. More than likely this will go okay Jack doesn't seem like the kind of person to attack or hurt others. Thinking of this possibility does scare me a little though, I touch the scar on my right cheek remembering when I got it. I was running away from some kids trying to beat me up and I climbed a tree and halfway up I fell I cut my face on a loose branch, when I hit the ground I sprained my right ankle and the kids caught me. Later at the hospital I lied and told mom that I was being dumb and climbed a tree and when I fell I dislocated my shoulder and sprained my ankle and that the bruises were from hitting branches on my way down. I still don't think she believed me. Now in this new school I wonder if Jack or anyone else will try and hurt me. This makes me sit a little more tensely.

@Jack Burnett @Alex Tyler

[font=Segoe Print]Now, Rafael had already been pretty damn cranky.

For one, he hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. Between the snores of his dormmate Stephan, and the thoughts reverberating around his head like snare drums, the idea had been more farther away than his home country. Then, he had gotten in a fight in the library. Damn Irish girls, always pissing him off. Then, tip-top of the cake, he had had a bloody pop quiz in Transfigurations. Transfigurations, for Chrissakes. And he hadn’t gotten himself in major trouble – that was also a downside.

He couldn’t even focus on his homework, his anger levels were so high. He didn’t even know what to do with the fire burning in the pit of his stomach. It had gotten a bit tamer, now that things had died down a bit, but it was far from gone – his thoughts were too fuzzy to channel into something productive. He hadn’t even gotten to see Gem today – the other boy had been off, doing God knows what. His stability, taking the fucking day off. He couldn’t even handle it.

And then, when he thought he had reached his limit for shit ‘Bird can take for the day, he had received the letter.

He hadn’t even known how to take it, at first – as an insult, a joke, or just as a flattering compliment to himself. Because, it was quite a well-known fact that he liked boys more than he liked girls. And, if this were the only case, he probably would have shook the letter off, and gone about his way as if he had never seen it. But then there was the fact that he actually had a boyfriend – at Hogwarts, in fact, and openly. It had outraged him a bit, seeing such a blatant disrespect to their relationship. He had felt the heat come to his face, the pounding of his heart growing louder and louder. He felt like he was going to explode, or hurt something, or both.

That’s what brought him to the small hall. Normally, he wouldn’t just go picking fights, but this was a definite exception. No one disrespected him so blatantly and got away with it, whether it was a joke or not. His anger was just as fresh as it had been earlier that day, his gaze deadly, his fists clenched, his teeth gritted tight enough to not be healthy. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with all this raw rage he felt, but he knew that whatever the outcome, it probably wasn’t going to be pretty.

Upon entering the small hall, he realized that it was mostly deserted, save for a single girl. He wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was smart enough to realize that she had to be the girl who sent him such a disrespectful owl. Walking up to the scene, the letter crushed in his fists, he released his fighting words.

“Who the bloody hell do you think you are, sending letters like this? You think I have time for bloody jokes?”[/font]

"huh jokes? what... wait who in Christs name are you... wait hold up your that one Gryffindor kid I have a class with"
I recognized the kid as Rafael D'spacito, He is popular and has a bunch of friends and I'm pretty sure he's a pure-blood. He looks mad, no beyond mad, he looks livid. Oh god what do I have to deal with now first getting lost in the halls then an overly hyper Ravenclaw and now one of my fellow Gryffindors looks like they wanna fight me, That's okay though I've wanted to fight someone and see if I can use some of dads incantations. I stand up and face the kid leaveing my sketch book on the bace of the fire place.
" Who do I think I am I'm here to meet with someone, Its more like who do you think you are, storming in here loud as a pack of ogar's"
I look up at his face, being only 4 foot 7 I'm way shorter than him but I still stand as tall as I can and staring him directly in the eye with a look that could probably make a boggart scared hoping slightly that that would prevoke him enough to pull a punch and if not I will make the first move, I look him down he has a strong body structure but he's big meaning it will be harder for him to catch me all I have to do is get behind him and aim for the back of the knee and neck, all that comes into play before that is hoping he doesn't catch me, if he does I'm royally screwed.

@Rafael D'Spacito & @Alex Tyler

As soon as Jack laid eyes on Rafael entering the Small Hall, he knew he had made a very drastic mistake. The Slytherin had watched the Gryffindor boy’s back disappear through the large, wooden doors at the end of the Great Hall, where the redhead sat at a table, eating some supper while working on a bit of homework. Of course, the main reason he had for being there was to spectate, but there was nowhere to hide or linger in the Small Hall, so he’d decided to wait until his two intended targets were both in the same place. With luck, they would have been preoccupied enough with each other not to notice him come in after them.

The line of Rafael’s body as he walked, however, was Jack’s first hint as to the gravity of his error. The set of his jaw and the clenched fists at the boy’s sides only served to support this notion. Quickly stuffing the rest of his mashed potatoes into his mouth, Jack downed his pumpkin juice, stuffed his papers between the pages of his book, closed said book, and tucked the whole thing under his arm.
Then, as quickly and indiscreetly as he could manage, the redhead removed himself from the table and hurried down the length of the room in order to pursue the Gryffindor’s path into the next.

By the time he had managed to push open one of the large doors ajar, the other first-year boy’s angry bellow was reverberating back at him from the opposite stone walls. He almost wanted to simply close the door again, but then Alex’s similarly angry response carried through the stone hall soon after.

Well, that wasn’t good.

Somehow finding himself more panicked than entertained for reasons he wasn’t in a state to analyze right then, Jack stepped fully into the small hall, closing the door as quietly as he could behind him. His gaze never left the others, unsure if they would notice him there or carry on, but he couldn’t think of what more to do than watch and wait.

@Jack Burnett & @Rafael D'Spacito
I'm getting very annoyed now dinner has practally ended and Jack still hasent showed up and I'm stuck with this kid who seems to thing I've sent him a letter and I'm getting pissed now which means I'm gonna start sounding scottish, my suspitions are confermed when I start to speak
" so your tellin me that I sent ya a letter and that I'ts some kinda joke?"
I trow my arms in the air in exasperation, maybe I can get this kid to try to punch me I just hope he doesn't try and use magic, I really want to try and use one of dads incantations.
"let me get this straight...you think I would sent a letter to a bampot like you that I share maybe one class with that before now I aint ever talked to?
well geuss what I only talk or sent letters to people I know or trust or want to try to connect with"

I need to stop but I don't want to for some reason. I grab dads poket journal out of my pocket and flip to the protection incantation maybe if he swings at me I can dodge and try to use this? On the inside I was begging this kid to try and hit me.

Right now I'm very annoyed, Jack should be here... which he is not, I'm tired and not to mention I haven't eaten since this morning and I know fighting isn't the best thing to do but I don't really care.

@Jack Burnett @Alex Tyler

[font=Segoe Print] The girl thought she was funny, she did. She looked up at him, a hard-to-read look on her face. "Huh, jokes?” she said, a hint of confusion to her voice. “What...? Wait, who in Christ’s name are you?”

Rafa bit his lip angrily. This fucking around was not doing anything to help his mood. “Oh, don’t you even play around! You know exactly who I am! What do you think you’re playing at? Think you’re funny, or something?” He looked purely deadly, his fists trembling, his body tense, a fierce look on his face that had scared grown men away from him. He had proudly cultivated it on the streets of Argentina – it had been a means of survival. Therefore, it had to have been pretty damn convincing.

A look of recognition crossed the other girl’s face. “Wait. Hold up. You’re that one Gryffindor kid I have a class with,” she told him. She stood up, too, only reaching his collarbone in height. It was kind of a sad attempt, but the look on her face made up for every ounce of height she lacked. It looked like she had cultivated her look, too – he knew better than to ask. He was too angry to question it, anyway. But, he had to admit, he had to respect her courage.

"Who do I think I am?” she snarled. “I'm here to meet with someone. It’s more like who do you think you are, storming in here loud as a pack of ogres!"

Rafa laughed bitterly at that last remark – he was not going to take her shit. Who did she think she was, messing with him like this? It wasn’t amusing, not in the least. “Oh –” he withheld a few of his more scathing words for a second, biting his lip with increasing anger. “Look. You can woman the fuck up and admit what you did. And you know what? I’ll even walk away. Forget that I saw you’re fucking love confession and everything. Because I’m feeling generous today.” He dug into his back pocket, pulling out the letter he had received and shoving it in her face. “But I’ll have you know, I don’t take this shit. I have a fucking boyfriend! You trying to take hits at me or something? Pick another fucking Gryffindor.” He was purely seething, the anger rolling off him in waves. He almost regretted his proposal at forgiveness – there were so many more things he wanted to say, but he refrained himself, keeping the worst of flames to himself.

Alex looked pretty annoyed at this point, her own shoulders shaking in anger. “So, you’re tellin’ me that I sent ya a letter and that it’s some kinda joke?" she said – he was starting to pick up a Scottish-sounding accent. He had an accent of his own, as she had probably recognized from the beginning. He was a native Argentine, so his voice had an almost American drawl. Though, at the moment, it was sounding more Hispanic, in the way he was spit-firing his words.
She continued her rant, throwing her hands in the air in an exasperated manner. "Let me get this straight. You think I would sent a letter to a bampot like you that I share maybe one class with, that before now I ain’t ever talked to?” she fired. “Well, guess what? I only talk or sent letters to people I know, or trust, or want to try to connect with!"

At this point, she had drawn a little notebook out of her back pocket, flipping through it in search of something. It kind of confused Rafa, the way she held it in front of her all defensive-like. Now, she wouldn’t know this, but many years ago, he had made a blood pact with his elementary school football team. Together, they vowed they would never lay a hand on a female in the intention of hurting her – not unless they had made the first move. It was the right thing to do. Right now, the only damage he wished to inflict on her was with his words, in the hope that she would learn from her mistakes and not fuck around with peoples’ feelings.

Out of pure reflex, Rafa swiped the notebook out of her hand, turning to face the other way so she couldn’t take it back. Then, he flipped through the pages, looking at the words. “Shit…. Are these incantations?” he said, a mix of horror and livid anger crossing his face. “What kind of sick person are you? For fucking Chrissakes…” He threw the book to the other side of the room. “You think I’m going to hurt you or something? Who do you think I am, smacking around girls? Jesus fucking Christ!”

It was about this time that he looked over, noticing a boy standing near the doorway. He had seen him around before – Jack something, he vaguely recollected. Part of him felt a jolt of anger. Why is he even here? Watching the drama? He shook his head – part of him was relieved, though. Someone was here, so maybe they could reign in the situation. Because, as much as he didn’t want to, he was starting to believe the crazy girl. He had noticed, she didn’t seem to be the kind of person to write mushy love letters. Maybe he knew something important. “What are you doing here mate?” he asked sharply, though his anger had dissipated a bit, the remark not as scathing as it could have been. “Enjoying the show, are you?”[/font]

OOC: Alex, I took the liberty of writing out some of your character's emotions into my post, based on the words and reactions you gave. If this isn't okay, I can take it down or fix it. Also, no hard feelings irl, this makes for a hella good story XD .[/quote]

@Rafael D'Spacito & @Alex Tyler

As the argument gradually began to escalate between the two Gryffindors, the part of Jack that he liked to pretend didn't exist - his conscience - began to tag at him most insistently. He was about to take a step forward, unsure if he feared more for Rafael's sake or Alex's, but then he heard something that made him stop again.

"...I have a fucking boyfriend!"

He had a what?

Of course, during his weeks of research, the Slytherin had noticed several people of both sexes hanging around Rafael. And yes, he thought he'd heard something or seen something once or twice that alluded to the idea that Rafael might have had an interest in boys. However, Jack had been certain that it was all a joke.

Guys could get pretty chummy with each other and he'd known more than a few who liked to play games such as 'gay chicken'. He just wasn't familiar with what 'being gay' looked like enough to draw conclusions of his own. Besides, weren't they just 11? How did this kid think he already knew who he liked romantically? There were full grown adults who didn't know what romance was!

Regardless, none of that really mattered too much now. After taking a moment to recompose himself from the shock of the revelation, Jack realized something was thrown across the room - and then he was being spoken to directly. By the angry Gryffindor boy. Joy. How to deal with this...?

"Enjoying it?" he repeated, steadying the tremor in his voice with practiced ease. That didn't stop the slight shaking of his limbs, of course, but he held his hands behind his back to hide that. "I'm...not even sure I completely understand the premise. From what I can tell, you're yelling at this girl because she gave you a love confession? That doesn't seem very gentlemanly of you."

@Jack Burnett @Rafael D'Spacito

When the boy snatched my book out of my hand I lost it, How dare he, dad gave me that,
"Fucking Jerk!"
He turned around suddenly noticing a boy in the back of the room, its Jack, but right now I don't give a damn no one ever disrespects my dad, I mentally make a note to hate this kid till the day I die. I love dad I hold the letter he shoved at me in my hands and look at it, first he disrespects me by shoving a damn piece of paper into my face then he has the audacity to snatch something from my hands which belonged to dad and throw it across the room, disrespecting dad and his memory, This pisses me off to no end. he seems distracted now turned in Jacks direction, I silently make a mental note to thank him for the distraction later, I know exactly why he's here so his presence doesn't bother me.

Deciding to make the first move I move forward so I can punch him as hard as I can in the gut.The force of him against my fist hurts a little but thats okay, Iv'e felt worse pain than this and I'm only just getting started
"don't ever in a million years disrespect my dads journal"

@Jack Burnett @Alex Tyler @Aurelia Notrésvace

[font=Segoe Print]"Enjoying it?"

The Slytherin boy – Jack – was a bit difficult to read at the moment, his face plastered with an easy sort of look, and his hands behind his back. In any normal circumstance he would have taken this as a calm gesture, but it was a bit hard to believe with everything that was going on. "I'm... not even sure I completely understand the premise,” he told Rafa smootly. “From what I can tell, you're yelling at this girl because she gave you a love confession? That doesn't seem very gentlemanly of you."

Damn. How long had this guy actually been watching? He searched the other boy’s face with a hard glare, trying to get some kind of vibe off of him – that he was humored, or worried, or angry, or something. Really, he was a but pissed at his words – who did he think he was? “You know what, mate,” he said with a rather fighting voice. “You want to go the manners route? How gentlemanly is it to sit on your ass and watch us fight? Where’s the dignity? At least I’m being a man, solving my problems.”

He inwardly regretted his words – they were the spur-of-the-moment-type things that he would only say with a hot head. Nonetheless, he bit his lip for a moment, a dark look crossing his face. This really was no way to make friends. But, then again, he wasn’t here to make friends, right? He was here to find whoever the fuck was trying to mess with him.

In the midst of his pondering, he had completely disregarded the other person in the room. He was shaken out of his thoughts by a ruddy powerful blow to his midsection – he hadn’t seen it coming in the slightest. A big ‘hmph’ of air left his lungs, and for a moment, he forgot to breathe – the air had been completely knocked out of him. Out of pure reflex, he spun on his heel, noticing a fuming Alex, her fists in tight balls. “Don't ever in a million years disrespect my dad’s journal," she growled, the anger rolling off her in waves.

It was her dad’s journal? A wave of guilt washed over him, putting out some of the angry flames licking at the corners of his vision. No wonder she had punched him – family made you do bold things. In any other situation, he would have thrown a fist right back at her, absolutely livid at the fact that she would try to fight him. But right now, there was no bone in his body that wanted revenge.

He realized that he had sort of frozen in his position, facing her with a strange look on his face – his brow was all furrowed, a mix of anger, confusion, and guilt riddling his features. He really had no words for a moment, racking his brain for the right thing to say without disregarding the situation still at hand. “You know what?” he told her. “I didn’t know it was your dad’s bloody journal. So, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” His voice was still laced with anger – he wasn’t going to just let the letter go, but his apology held worth. In fact, he almost never apologized to anyone. It was something he rarely gave, for egotistical and personal reasons. But he knew better than to disrespect someone’s family – he would have reacted the same way if his sister had been disrespected. So, he could completely respect her actions.

He decided to let the punch slide, allowing her to have her satisfaction for the moment. But she had better not mistake his apology for submission. “But that still doesn’t explain this letter,” he told her sharply. His anger had mostly dissipated, and for a simple reason – he was beginning to believe her. The more time he spent in the same room with her, the more unlikely it became that she had written such a soapy letter. She had no stars in her eyes, that was for sure. And it was really hard to fake confusion – especially the kind that she was showing now. He held up the letter, her signature in neat handwriting. “Someone wrote this letter,” he told her in a very stark tone. “If it wasn’t you, then who? Who would go out of their bloody way to forge your signature and piss me off?”[/font]