Take the hands of what you've known" --(tag:blake)

[alaricaamethyst]

Colorful leaves danced around old tree trunks, their reflections swaying blissfully in the murky waters of The Black Lake. It was a particularly normal day in October, a weekend to be exact, and not as cold as the days prior. The sun beamed down on her electric red locks, peeking out from the empty spaces between the more widely spaced branches.

This day was a rather lazy one, meant for sketching out ideas for future design-based exploits. Just as her design utensil hit the parchment to finish off the last sleeve of her sketch the page was flipped, displaying nothing more than a blank canvas. Blank canvases as you know, hold with them all the possibilities in the world. When you hold with you a blank canvas, anything could happen.

It was just her luck that on this day, something completely unexpected would come of it. She seemed to blend with her surroundings, clad in a flower patterned dress which brought out all of the wonderfully bright colors of autumn. Around her neck hung two silver chained necklaces, one more familiar than the later. Half of a black heart which once claimed the “best” in the term “best friends” now served as a signature pieces for Miss Amethyst. It had lost most of its’ colorization from years of wear, the only letter now visible being ¾ of a “B”. Upon first glance, people might think it a dedication to a boyfriend, or something of the sort. The second charm dangling from her neck was a simple silver heart, hanging partially over the upper portion of her dress.

She was hoping to stay out until sunset, a simple miracle which she often anticipated as a small child. Glancing up towards the beautiful yellow glow of the sun’s rays for a moment or so, she then averted her gaze to the task at hand. Sharpened charcoal hit her workspace with a determined sort of fury. Two eyes were incredibly evident, and next a heart shaped nose. Far too animated to be parts of a human body, the eyes themselves held a certain flair of seemingly unachievable happiness. Her model it seemed had not a care in the world.

Her lips vibrated against each other, humming softly to herself before barely uttered whispers of song. “Oh, I could sail the world..search through the darkest waters but I’d never find..these golden eyes.” Softly came the melody, eyes glued to a slowly forming masterpiece.

outfit!:Right here!?
song: This one!?

[BLAKE KENNETH AVERY]

This was probably one of Blake's favorite times of the year. Not to be too morbid, but there was something about the dying leaves crunching under his feet as he walked through the forest and the chill of the soon-to-be-Winter air that he found exhilarating. Summer and sweltering heat made everything, including the eldest Avery, too lethargic for his liking. Sharp blasts of pre-winter air were what he needed to wake up and enjoy the momentous year that he was sure his seventh would turn out to be. The tedious 'introduction' days of the beginning of the year were finally over, even in those classes where the teachers didn't seem to want to come back to school and begin work either, the tournament had been set up, and most importantly the little 'purification plan', as Blake liked to call it, was getting underway. This year would be a great one, for more than the expected reason of it being the last year Blake would have to put up with the mudbloods and blood traitors he unfortunately encountered every day at Hogwarts.

The beginning of the year had been... annoying, to say the least. The constant stares from other students, the whispering in the halls as he passed, the letters from his mother each day entailing the story of the newest reporter to show up at the family door the previous morning... Blake just wanted everything to end. His family's name had been splashed all over the papers in the Summer, even making the front page of the Daily Prophet a few times. Their lives had been ripped apart, investigated, and thrown to the wolves of press for gossip and news. Even Blake's little sisters- Even Rainbow, who was only fourteen, had been mentioned in the papers as 'the children of a monster'. Frankly, the near-eighteen year old didn't see what all of the hype was about. His father had done what was long overdue: knocked the muggles down a few pegs. They were absolutely useless and oblivious, but they kept tainting good pureblood lines with their genes and slowly reducing the wizarding world to ruin. Blake's father had done the wizarding world a favour, it should have been a call to all self-respecting wizards to say no to the muggle plague, but instead it made the Avery name more infamous than it had been in Voldemort's time, and sent Apollo to Azkaban for the rest of his life.

Furious though he was about the entire Summer's proceedings, at school Blake was very calm. He shrugged off the bold questions about his father's predicament, pretended to be absorbed in his final year's studies, and tried to keep focus off of himself as much as possible. He couldn't afford to have much attention on him with what was going on this year... so, though he would have loved to enter his name into the Hogwarts Tournament and relished the look on Albus Potter and Scorpius Weasley's faces when his name was called instead of theirs (he was positive they had been sure one of them owuld be chosen, and unfortunately they'd been correct), he'd opted to watch instead of participate. He was probably keeping the lowest profile this year than he had any other year, which felt a bit odd, but it was necessary so he could deal with a little change of character.

He'd been out in the Forbidden Forest, not caring the least that it was forbidden, practicing hexes and various spells for no educational purpose. Sheltered by the thick cover of trees, no passing students or teachers would be able to see the light from his wand at each incantation or hear the snap of limbs breaking from their trunks at the force of a curse. He'd been spending quite a few afternoons out here since the beginning of the year, having finally found a cause worthy of his extra effort, but always returned to the school before anyone became suspicious of his absence. Olivia would probably be furious with him if he raised any suspicion at all of his actions. So, shortly before the sun set, Blake left various tree limbs lying on the ground around his practice area, and set off towards the school.

For some reason he decided to take the scenic route to the school. Honestly, the likely cause would be to see if he could find a worthless mudblood or a Weasley or Potter to create some trouble for. It had been too long since he'd had some fun, and he knew from experience that Lily Potter, a favorite victim of his, often hung out by the water's edge. It was the hair that caught his attention first; a bright, vivid red, much like the Potter girl's, but the girl sitting near the lake was definitely not Lily.

Usually Blake would keep walking, paying no heed to any student he had no need to speak to or urge to torment, but his pace faltered and slowed to a stop when he noticed the girl. She was definitely not in his grade or house because he'd remember that hair, and he only knew two people with that color, Lily and Chasity. Most of the time he didn't associate with people who didn't fit into either category, but today he'd make an exception. The girl was, after all, pretty. Just maybe she could be worth Blake's time...

He was sure to step carefully as he walked towards her, trying not to make much noise if she already hadn't noticed him. He was a sucker for the whole 'element of surprise' thing. There was the faint sound or a carried melody in the air, just barely loud enough for Blake to hear it and not loud enough for him to make out the words as he drew nearer. He paused just behind and to the left of her, looking over her shoulder at a sort of sketchbook she held and the drawing forming on the page. She was an artist of some sort? For a split second Blake debated how to greet her. Go with the polite path? Make an excuse to interrupt her silence? Ah, hell, why not go for the overused cheesy talk? It wasn't like he was actually serious. "What's a pretty girl like you doing out here alone?"

(Outfit: Click)

[alaricaamethyst]

Alarica’s charcoal utensil began to explore the page, sketching a few long lines at the sides and center of the parchment. The lines were much too oddly placed to be any ordinary hair-line, and by the looks of it, an animal was beginning to form. A dog to be exact, with a slowly forming furry face.

Thinking she was completely alone, she got rid of all tendencies to hold herself back. She was a very charismatic person, happy by anyone’s standards, but she would have been less than willing to sing aloud. There were two reasons for this; firstly, it was kind of rude, and secondly, she didn’t want to be known as that weirdo talking to herself by the lake.

All was still but the song of the leaves rustling across the ground and a light melody that belonged to an artist at work. She hadn’t been expecting another, especially when she didn’t pick up any incoming footsteps.

With a slight gasp and a hand which reached suddenly for the space between her chest and neck, she noticed the newcomer. How odd, she thought, that he had snuck up so suddenly. Perhaps he had done it on purpose, she added to her statement, although that conclusion was brought on with little self assurance.

Her heartbeat began to slow its’ pace once she decided that her jumpiness was unmerited, and this boy wasn’t a threat, but rather an interested suitor. This was odd for her as she was a fairly pretty girl, but the kind of person that everyone assumed got attention from other interested parties. Others were too frightened to use such an upfront come on. Not only did she have an overprotective older brother, but people often felt that she was untouchable. Her personality was bubbly, and she had tendencies to act like “one of the guys” on more than a few occasions.

“You’re awful confident,” she said with a quaint smile, dimples forming at the corners of her cheeks. “But, if you’d really like to know, I’m uhm.. drawing. Stupid doodles really.” With that she closed the pad of parchment, potentially smearing the charcoal on the page (since it hadn’t been protected with any kind of sealant).

“So,” she added with a rather mischievously little smirk, “tell me, do you normally sneak up on girls in your free time?” As she spoke the pad was placed on top of her leather messenger bag, wanting to avert all attention from what she saw as silly drawings.

Her gaze met his with a curious glint in her eyes. He looked extremely familiar, but she couldn’t place his face as quickly as you’d think.

[BLAKE KENNETH AVERY]

There was nothing like the satisfaction of seeing someone jump because of his presence. This sort of jumping was a bit less fear induced than he usually preferred to see, but he wasn't aiming for the 'get the hell out of my way before I beat you into the ground' approach today. Nah... usually he would. He liked seeing the fear in younger student's eyes, knowing that he was more powerful than they would likely ever be with mere presence alone, but he didn't want to scare this girl away. Where was the fun in that? Let him spend a bit of time around her, figure out whether she was worth his time and effort, and then figure out whether to make her run in terror or not. Yeah, Blake was pretty confident that if he didn't like what he found about her he could get her running at a word. After all, she was younger than him, looked to be about a foot smaller, and she was out here all alone without a group of friends to support her. It was always easier to intimidate others when they were alone, whether in the school or out in the wilderness far away from anyone else like this girl was.

But why let a pretty little thing like her realize what kind of a guy he was without purpose? After all, maybe there was no reason to scare her away. Pretty and young as she was, what could he gain by chasing her away? "Maybe I have reason," he responded, looking down at her as she closed the sketchbook. "Doodles? Stickmen are doodles. What I saw in your book was definitely leaning more toward art." No harm in a bit of flattery. Blake himself was more blessed in the muscle department than any other sort of talent. The guy didn't have the patience for music, or the focus for art, or... well, anything else, really. He had never had the desire to get himself involved in anything when he was young that might have uncovered a talent. He was a decent beater, he supposed, having played a few quidditch games with friends when he was young, but he'd never had the patience to play on a school quidditch team where he would be forced to interact with mudbloods and blood traitors. Then again, it would be pretty satisfying to be able to whack bludgers to the backs of mudbloods heads and claim it as a simple game accident... but the negatives of the game, like being forced to play alongside Potter and Malfoy (a prime example of a good bloodline gone wrong) would have outweighed the positives.

"Nah, I spend most of my free time watching them through their dorm windows," he smirked, joking of course. He liked his girls, but the seventh year wasn't a pervert. If a girl was worth his time, he'd take the direct approach rather than sneak around like some nerd who knew he could never get what he wanted. "I only sneak up on the really cute ones."

All right, enough with the cheesy lines. Heeding the voice of reason in his head, Blake sat down on the ground near the girl, far enough away to avoid being creepy, and got a better look at her. She was definitely younger than him... sixth, maybe fifth year? The hair color was definitely interesting. She could be a metamorphagus, but that was only a possibility. Chasity, a girl his age and in his own house, had a similar hair color but was definitely not a metamorphagus. She just thought the color suited her. Apparently dying your hair weird colors was a common style, even in the wizarding world. Or maybe it was just magically dyed? Either way, in Blake's opinion the color suited this unnamed girl much more, but he was no stylist to know what did or didn't look good to the rest of the world. He just knew his own personal preferences. "I'm Blake," he held out his hand in case she wanted to shake it, debating whether give his surname at the moment. Maybe it wouldn't be best, considering all of the drama from the past Summer.Ah, screw it. "Blake Avery."

(Outfit: Click)

[alaricaamethyst]

He certainly knew how to flatter a girl when she needed it, and if it wasn't for the fact that she had a little voice telling her something was wrong, she may have bought deeper into it. She smiled all the same, and her lips continued to perk up as he went on. What was this guy anyway, some kind of modern day Romeo? "As sweet as that is, they're really not that good," she said with a small laugh, pulling her messenger bag closer to herself. She had always saw her drawings on the level of 'somewhat decent', but never art in the making. She'd always be able to see the places that needed improvements, no matter what anyone had to say about it. Besides, by the looks of this guy, he didn't seem like the potential relationship type. She couldn't sit there and take him too seriously.

Alarica didn't even know whether she should take his jokes as jokes, her eyes busy following the outline of his muscular frame. Guys like him weren't suppose to talk to artsy Hufflepuff girls girls like her, as she soon learned. Artsy types were seen as too needy, not marriage potential (but certainly one night stand potential), and although it pained her deeply..she knew Hufflepuff wasn't the most sought after house. In fact, part of her cringed at the fact that she had told the Sorting Hat to 'just pick a damn house already'. It was probably her harsh language that had landed her here.

"Well, I'm fairly certain that any girl wouldn't particularly mind getting a..glance or two from you, even if it was a bit creepy," she said, her cheeks glowing a light pink. "I know I don't mind it."

Her hand began to outstretch just as his did, that is, until he managed to say his full name. She slowly slid it away before it even touched his, her smile dropping in a matter of seconds. "O-Oh. Alarica Amethyst, but I'm pretty sure you won't need to know that..ever again. It was really nice meeting you though, for however many minutes that was." As she spoke she gathered her things, getting up from the grass with a roll of her eyes. She knew what kind of reputation he had, and chasing after a Slytherin boy that not only had a bad attitude, but was also heavy in the category of flirting..wasn't really her thing. She almost fell bad as she began to walk away from him, and even had to glance over her shoulder a few times before hand.

[BLAKE KENNETH AVERY]

It was really all he could do to hide a smirk. This was way too easy, barely worth the time. Well, okay, that was a lie. Things like this were always worth the time and the thrill of it. What other fun was there to be had at Hogwarts? The school was necessary for the education it provided which then launched good careers and gave you good connections, but other than the academic purposes there was nothing to do. Quidditch was a fool's activity, flying around on brooms, chasing after balls and throwing them through hoops... it bordered on barbaric sometimes. The tournament was an amusing activity, but only for the danger involved and the hope that some pitiful mudblood or blood traitor participants might get injured, or killed, in the process. Other than those things, life at Hogwarts was an endless lineup of monotonous lectures, endless boring evenings, and mindless banter of simple-minded school children. Girls were the only entertaining break he got from that pattern. No matter how easy they were, it was always amusing and always worth the time needed to have a bit of fun with their fragile emotions.

The mood changed almost instantaneously. One second everything was fine, smiley, going along just as planned. The next she was rushing away like he was some disease ridden mudblood, clearly unhappy with him without being given any real reason to be. For a moment, he was stunned. Speechless. In shock. What the hell had just happened? Blown off. He was being blown off. It wasn't unusual for him to blow people off. On the rare times through the years when girls actually had enough courage to speak to him, Blake would usually brush them off and continue on his way, snubbing them and their flirty little comments, but Blake was not blown off. Ever. He wouldn't allow it. That just wasn't how the guy's brain was wired. If he pushed away a girl, it was all fine and dandy. That was in his right to do so. But if a girl tried to push him away, she was a challenge to be conquered, and she damn well would be conquered. No one said a 'no' to Blake Avery before a question had even been asked. Things had gone wrong rather suddenly, and Blake had no one to blame but himself. His name. Why did he have to share his last name? It could ruin everything. Or else... it could make things more interesting. No, he wouldn't give up. Especially once he caught word of her last name. Chasity, one of the girls he'd been comparing Alarica's hair color to before, was an Amethyst. Pureblood. Judging from the last name, the two red heads were related, and so that meant that this girl must be a pureblood, too. There was absolutely nothing to chase him away from her now.

"C'mon, do you always believe school gossip, Alarica?" he called after her, dropping a bit of the 'charm' that might normally make him call her something more respectable like 'miss. amethyst'. "I mean, it's your opinion, I guess, but students get lots of things wrong. I would have thought you were more the type of girl to make your own opinion." He shook his head, as though he were disappointed, but didn't move to stand up or go after her. He stayed sitting exactly as he had been, with one leg stretched straight out on the ground and the other knee bent up with his elbow resting on it as he watched her move away. "Besides, what's the harm in talking to me for a little while? It's not as though I'm going to attack you. Scout's honor."

(Outfit: Click)

[alaricaamethyst]

Alarica didn't know whether she should dare feel guilty for leaving him back near the big oak tree, or if he very well deserved it. Surely no one had lied about his perception of nonpurebloods and blood-traitors. I mean, it was one of those things that was widely known, and not by fault of any rumors. None the less she let her kinder side get the best of her, a thoughtful look washing over her face as she glanced back at him. "Then tell me, Avery," she began, turning on her heels to move a little further in his direction. "Do you or do you not physically and verbally abuse muggleborns and blood-traitors, as you call them, on a daily basis?"

She continued walking in his direction until she was standing directly in front of him, staring down into his eyes. "I'm not a condescending person, but I won't take kindly to you if you do decide to lie about it."

Alarica wasn't normally a judgmental person, allowing people to create their own opinions ( just as long as they didn't try to force that opinion onto her). In fact, if he were honest with her she might actually stay by his side, just as long as he could prove there was a good person somewhere inside of everyone's perceptions of him. I mean there was obviously something there due to his frequent compliments, it just might take a little while to find that person deep within his tough-guy layers.

As far as she knew, he was a bit of a man-whore as well, but she wouldn't bring that up in conversation just yet. It wasn't as if she actually saw a future with this guy whom she had just met, and she could always control how deeply involved she'd let herself get with him. In her eyes, it wouldn't be very far either.

[BLAKE KENNETH AVERY]

This was slippery ground he had to tread on. A few wrong words could finish this challenge, and not in his favor. Lying would be easy. It would roll off of his tongue, as all of his lies did when he was confronted by someone he didn't want to insult about his habits. But if she found out he was lying, this game would be over, and he didn't want that. He couldn't tell the truth, either. 'Yeah, I think my father was entirely right by nearly murdering a muggle family' probably wouldn't sit too well with this girl. So a thinly veiled truth might be the best option. No lies, just... not the full extent of the truth. If she wanted to pry, so be it. If she did he could bring out the lies.

"All of the rumors probably have a lot to do with my name, Amethyst," he shrugged, finding that calling her by her last name as she had with him didn't really have the same ring. Amethyst was too... pretty. Too exotic to have the desire effect. "Yeah, I have issues with some students who don't come from wizarding families. But I also have issues with plenty of students who do come from wizarding families. If someone gives me a reason, I'll dislike them, no matter what blood status family they hail from. But on a daily basis? That's going a bit too far. I have my spats with all sorts of students, but I don't get into a fight each day." Nothing had been lies yet. A lot of rumors did begin because of his last name, Avery being a rather well known name of Death Eaters from generations in the past. And he did have issues with 'some' students from mudblood families. If some were extended to mean all. But he did have issues with people from students from non wizarding families if they started an issue with him or were blood traitors or just fools in general. Skipping around the truth. That was all he was doing. He hadn't lied yet.

It was kind of weird, looking up at a girl who looked to be much shorter than himself, but being towered over because he was sitting down. But he wasn't about to stand up, he was rather comfortable on the ground, and it wasn't as though the girl was any sort of a threat to him. So he calmly continued with his explanation, weaving the 'truthful lies' like a well thought out web. "Two thirds of the encounters people like to talk about between myself and other students haven't even happened, anyway. My name gets out there was someone that supposedly gets into trouble with other people, and it creates a domino effect. People want their fame, or their excuses for tripping down the stairs and getting a black eye, so they bring my name into their stories." He shrugged again. This too, was not a lie. A third year, last year, had told his friends that Blake Avery had cornered him outside of the library and beat him up because he was dating a muggleborn witch at the time. The funny thing was, Blake had never seen the kid in his life. And he didn't beat up people who dated muggleborns... well, if they were three years younger than him and didn't rub the disgusting 'attraction' in his face, that was.

"Look, Alarica," he sighed after a short pause. "This is a school filed with teenagers. You know how stories get twisted around until no one can tell what's up and what's down. Why don't you be the judge of my character for yourself, rather than relying on rumors and stories? If you don't like what you find, I'll leave you alone. No issues. If you do... well, then I guess there'd be no reason for me to leave, right?"

(Outfit: Click)

[alaricaamethyst]

Alarica listened intently to him, her mind exploring the possibilities. There was a good chance that he was telling the truth, but she'd probably have to check that over with someone that actually knew him. The press had a funny way of spreading vicious slander about particular pureblood families as well, so she couldn't really blame him for bad press either. So, what was it that she had to hold against him? I mean, judging people by what others had to say about them wasn’t something she did on a normal basis.

So she decided that she’d be siding with who everyone thought was the bad guy, even if it would be risky territory. It wasn’t like she was promising to date him, or even be friends with him for that matter, but he deserved a chance at the very least. Her right hand gripped the shoulder strap of her bag, foot tapping against the cold Earth.

“Fine, I’ll give you another chance..,” she began, flicking a few strands of red hair over her ear, “but if I find out that I’m being lied to, that’ll be the end of it.” She couldn’t just ditch the attractive older boy that had just been flooding her with compliments. He had made her feel special for a few minutes, and for once she had left the role of “a guy’s best friend” to “a possible girlfriend”. And this wasn’t just an ordinary boy, this was an older boy. That made all the difference to a fifteen year old girl.

She gave a small, humble smile, and moved back to her spot beside the tree. Her bag strap was swung over her shoulder, placed directly at her side. “So, you’re a Slytherin, right? I’m Hufflepuff, but you should probably know my older brother.” As she spoke she slid her notebook back out of her bag, placing it on top of a mess of leaves and digging for her charcoal drawing tool.

“You seem like the kind of guy he’d be friends with. Steve Amethyst, if you’ve heard of him.” In fact, Steve was just about the opposite of the kind of guy Blake would be seen around. Blake Avery was known as a blood-purists, where as Steve was quite the opposite, and made no restrictions on the kind of people he’d be seen with.

Alarica finally found a piece of charcoal, noted by the fact that her hands were now covered in a black powder. She pulled it out and- Just great, it had broken into pieces at the bottom of her bag. There went drawing for the evening. “It’s so weird that I haven’t seen you around before.” That is, assuming he was actually the nice guy her brother would like to be friends with. Unfortunately, that would be pretty far from the truth. Now, Alarica was more referring to the fact that he was both in shape and incredibly handsome. Surely she shouldn’t have missed him.

[BLAKE KENNETH AVERY]

"Understood, ma'am," Blake grinned, teasing at her authoritative tone. It was kind of cute, how a little girl like her seemed to think she could intimidate him with little threats about leaving him alone. Why should something like that bother him? Then again, if things were going as planned Alarica was likely assuming that he was more emotionally involved than he actually was, so her threat was valid, though still amusing. If she discovered something about him that she had an issue with, he could forget about his little challenge in five minutes. From what he knew of teenage girl's, they became much more attached much more quickly than boys like Blake. Who knew, maybe she'd be hung up for days on the fact that the supposed sweet guy she was talking to turned out to be a dick. He wouldn't lose a single minute of sleep over it.

Hufflepuff... ah, that was a slight drawback. Blake, as a rule, was not fond of Hufflepuff's. It seemed to him that the house was filled with the leftovers, the students that fit in no other house were all lumped together and abandoned, but given a name just like the rest of the houses to feel better about themselves. To Blake being put in the Hufflepuff house was like being told 'you don't really fit in anywhere else, so go hang out with the other misfits and try to feel special'. He'd met far too many Hufflepuff students who were very happy-go-lucky, so much so that it made him sick. They were only just ahead of Gryffindors, the idiotic 'brave' fools who thought they were so great just because they were in the same house as the 'great' Harry Potter. But even if this girl was a Hufflepuff, she hadn't displayed some of the annoying qualities of the house yet. Besides, she was pretty, and so that kind of struck out the possible negatives. Blake insisted he was not a pig, he was just a male.

He seemed like the sort of guy to be friends with Steve Amethyst? Blake must have been a more convincing liar than he'd thought. Steve Amethyst was the odd one out in Slytherin. The one white sheep among an army of blacks, as it were. How he'd ever gotten himself placed in the prestigious Slytherin house Blake had no idea. The guy was just... wrong for the house. Much more deserving of a place in Gryffindor, or Hufflepuff as his sister was. And no, in Blake's eyes that was no compliment. Slytherin was the house for the proper students. The ones from pureblooded families, of families who knew the proper way of the world as it should be. Slytherin was not for blood traitors who somehow managed to sneak their way through the cellar wall that led to its common room, but somehow, every so often, one little disgrace tricked the sorting hat and got into the house based on claims of foolish 'ambition' or 'greed' or something pathetic like that. Blake did not associate with Steve. Nor had he ever given the younger student a reason to dislike him, the pair had never actually spoken, actually, but Blake had no desire to ever meet Steve and speak with him, so that would never change. But to say 'I hate your brother' to Alarica would be an idiot's move, so the seventh year simply nodded. "Yeah, my entire family's made up of Slytherins," he explained. Even his father, grandfather, and great grandfather had once been Slytherins at Hogwarts. His mother had been a beauxbatons student, so that broke the trend, but every mentionable Avery who had ever attended Hogwarts had been in Slytherin. "I know your brother. Well, kind of. I mean, I don't ever think I've spoken to him, but I've seen him around the commons room."

He watched Alarica riffle around in her bag, and noticed her face fall slightly as she held something in her hands. It was the utensil she'd been using before on her drawings, broken into pieces and so probably unusable. Generally, Blake wouldn't give a bit of care about the drawing tool of some low-life Hufflepuff, but today his intentions were obviously different than they were any other day, so he pulled his ash wood wand and pointed it at the charcoal. "Reparo," he commanded as he lazily flicked his wand at the charcoal. His wand movements were some the transfiguration teacher would likely fail him on, but they got the job done. The pieces neatly flew into the air and reconnected before the charcoal piece as a whole fell into the girl's hands again. Only then did he focus on replying to her latest comment.

"I tend to stick with my own crowd, most of the time," he shrugged. "And I guess with the age difference, we wouldn't have any classes together, either. I mean, we would if I came back to Hogwarts for another year to get another class under my belt, but I don't think I'll do that." He wanted to be out of this school and away from the filth it held. There was no way he'c ome back for an unnecessary year when he had everything he needed to get a suitable job on his resume already. "I'm surprised that I haven't noticed you in the halls, though. I usually remember girls- er, hair like yours." The slip of tongue was entirely intentional on his part.

(Outfit: Click)