my "friend," you're a work of art pv ReOpened

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Aodhan was not a fearful person. Not for the most part. After all, he was a gryffindor for crying out loud—part of a house crafted specifically for the lionhearted. He didn't normally think it was a big deal, but for the sake of proving a point, he'd care for it. So no, Aodhan was not usually fearful... However, his dear "friend" Oliver was proving to be a rather volatile tutee. First was the quill snapping from earlier, which certainly wasn't a common thing to do for multiple reasons. It caused the boy to momentarily fear for his life, but he kept things lighthearted and engaging, as his entertainment was more pressing than his right to living. Now, though? Well, now the slytherin was erasing some measly error with force, enough to tear the paper. All this for one mistake was... worrying. A bit funny considering just who was involved, but mainly worrying. Aodhan opened his mouth for a moment, just for it to clamp shut as his companion made some flippant statement about Charms class, one that was completely and utterly untrue. Charms was fun! Anyone who disagreed was probably blind and lame... a profile which coincidentally lined up with Liv perfectly. Interesting. But again, his life was potentially on the line, so the youth kept silent for once. Instead, he watched, catching the way Oliver's leg bounced incessantly as words struggled to find the other boy. "I must have misread the book is all." He couldn't help it—he snorted. Even if that was an excuse—and it very obviously was—the admittance served to prove his earlier point. Yup, he was starting to completely see through Oliver. Perhaps down to an art form, because he was a genius and all that. "That's alright, Livie," he reassured, patting the other's shoulder in faux understanding, "We all make mistakes! You just happened to make more mistakes than usual. Still, nothing we can't fix at Aodhan's Amazing Tutoring Hour." Okay, that wasn't the most confidence-inducing statement he could have made, but if his toothy smile was anything to go by, it definitely served to tickle him. Unfortunately, that was when his temporary pupil went on to berate his drawing. As if burned, he immediately released his hold on Oliver, his face contorting into a mess of offense and bewilderment as he gestured to himself. "Wha—Why are you insulting me like this?!" he questioned a bit too loudly, causing a few heads to turn, "Besides, you already admitted to being blind, didn't you? I'm not surprised you couldn't tell what it is." Despite saying this, the youth still squinted his eyes at the opened sketchbook, brows furrowed as he analyzed the outline of his work. Sure, it was... kind of bad, since he was still new to this entire drawing thing. So sure, maybe there was some truth to Liv's comment, no matter how scathing. But what did that have to do with the tutoring session? Nothing, that's what. Honestly, it reminded him a bit of himself, this attempt at— Oh. Redirection. "Hey, Liv, you sure you're not just being petty cause you suck at Charms?" he inquired, plain and brazen. An absolute failure of using his realization for some good, but sadly, he was never exactly known for being "kind."

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There was only so much he could tolerate, and before the boy knew it, he was rolling his eyes after listening to Oliver's ridiculous reprimand. He wasn't putting words into anyone's mouth! The other had claimed to misread their textbook, meaning incorrect answers on the homework, and was now saying he "couldn't tell" what the drawing was? All in all, it was fair to assume this guy was blind, and it was not Aodhan's fault he couldn't see it. Pun fully intended (not really). Before long, Liv was redirecting again, mentioning the irrelevant fact that he wasn't placed in Ravenclaw. Of course Aodhan wouldn't be put into Ravenclaw! Who could possibly look at him and think he'd find joy in sitting around and reading books? Sure, the occasional comic or manga stole his eye. And sure, perhaps there were a few—or many—times where he'd gotten sucked into the rabbit hole that was Wikipedia. But overall, he was far too cool to be put into a house filled with people like... people like Oliver, actually. Huh. Suddenly, the youth leaned in closer, staring at his companion like doing so would reveal the mysteries of the universe. Really, why was this reincarnation of the Grinch sorted into Slytherin? Were the two houses more similar than he originally believed, or was there a separate, more vital detail he was missing? Before he could open his mouth, however, he noticed the other's odd mannerisms. The deep breathing, the refusal to look him in the eye. Different forms of self-soothing, right? It caused him to curiously tilt his head, wondering if something important was going to hit the open air. Unfortunately, there was no such thing. It was just more of Oliver repeating himself, which was a really, really, really bad way of convincing anyone that you were—or weren't—anything. He knew from firsthand experience, sadly, that a better method was to present some kind of logical argument, or rephrase things at the very least. Plus, saying "I'm not petty" is exactly what someone who was petty would say, all in a fruitless attempt to save face. Should he comment on this? Provide some much-needed wisdom, considering he was basically a mentor for the—hang on. Did this guy's voice just crack? Immediately, Aodhan blinked. Then he sniffled, just to transition into shutting his eyes and repeatedly clearing his throat. Don't laugh. He couldn't laugh. That wasn't nice, and Liv was very clearly trying to be civil with those impromptu breathing exercises. It was funny though. God, it was hilarious. He ended up coughing, trying to smother any giggles to the best of his ability, acting as if illness suddenly overcame him. Don't laugh. Don't laugh. No, don't even smile. Think of—think of sad puppies. Puppies that, when they barked, had voice cracks—NO. The boy only stopped when yet another insult was made towards his drawing, his not-so-hidden laughter vanishing like water under the summer sun. His eyes shot open, while his face adopted a look of mild indignation. How untrue; art wasn't even "hard" for him. He was just new! Anyone would struggle if they were new to a hobby, which... was indirectly admitting that it was difficult, but whatever. The main point still stood: he wasn't that bad, and his art wasn't a "that." So by the time Oliver finished, Aodhan could only sigh. "You really suck at... this, y'know?" he said, vaguely gesturing around the other, "Probably because you spend so much time doing homework and not relaxing, so you don't know how to interact with other people." A bit hypocritical, since he was the last person to comment on how to interact with anyone. But Aodhan was Aodhan, and that level of self-awareness was beyond him, so he kept chatting as he normally did. "I forgive you, though! Because I like you!" A blatant lie. He just liked being irritating more than anything. "Anyway, Goliath, since I'm assuming you mean what's wrong aside from the tear you made..." With that, he stole another glance at the parchment, jumping from memory point to memory point as he tried recalling exactly what incantation related to what, and the consequential effects. To be honest, the errors were truly not horrible; few in number and easy to review. "You got the questions for the Levitation Charm wrong, too. Write 'Leviosa' for the second part of the incantation, not 'Levioso.' Pretty sure that's an upper year spell or whatever..." Because believe it or not, he actually paid attention to classes that weren't History of Magic, and maybe, just maybe, he also read ahead when it came to Charms, a byproduct of his love for the course and fresh exposure to magic. "Oh, and review the questions for the Dancing Feet spell. I still see a mistake for it down at the bottom. For that, think of it, like..." He faltered for a second, wondering how to best explain his mental process. Having to organize his mess of thoughts into a singular, understandable line of logic was never easy, though it left him feeling satisfied. "The incantation is Ta-ran-ta-lleg-ra, right? Focus on the 'lleg-ra' part. It's like you're saying leg mid-cast. The spell makes you dance, and you dance using your legs, so use that to trigger your memory." There! He was pretty proud of himself, offering guidance like a real, certified genius. Only after speaking did he grin at Oliver, a suspiciously smug aura covering Aodhan from head to toe.

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He did his best to not say anything in response to the quip, because it was incredible just how easy the other boy was making this. They both knew Aodhan was doing everything in his power, using every possible brain cell to generate every outlandish idea possible, to be infuriating. Whether it be intentional or not, he was working to get under the blonde's skin, to live there in a way akin to a parasite. But rather than work to subvert his efforts, Oliver kept choosing to add fuel to the fire. In fact, it was more than that. It felt like witnessing someone dig their own grave. Was he missing something? Was his companion truly that hopeless, or was he secretly playing along the entire time? Letting people believe he was a giant grump to eventually get the last laugh? ... No, that didn't make sense. In that case, surely the facade would have cracked long ago. Yeah, he was becoming fairly certain that Liv just wasn't the brightest. Poor thing. Anyhow, at least this time around, his kind-of-not-really acquaintance wasn't maiming quills and destroying parchment while fixing the homework problems. This was especially good for the parchment, because while Aodhan didn't know what quills were made of, he could easily envision all the trees sacrificed for Liv's unjustified anger. With that in mind, he moved to offer some kind of applause. He was a good tutor, after all, and good tutors offered moral support for their students. Namely ones prone to angry outbursts when confronted with people cooler than them, as positive reinforcement would guide them to no longer waste the lives of innocent trees. However, that was when something fascinating happened. "Tell me your secrets, do you cheat? Is it some spell?" Wow. This might have been the best day of Aodhan's life. Caught off guard, the youth could only stare, his jaw left slack and brows disappearing into the fringe of his hair. And he maintained this expression for all of three seconds before it morphed, shifting into the most unnaturally large smile across his face to date. His pink gums were on full display while the edges of his eyes crinkled. "Livie..." he began while resting his weight on the table, placing his chin in his palm. His tone was light, airy and filled with mirth. "Are you suggesting I'm just so unbelievably smart, that you think I'm cheating? Is that what you're doing?" A small part of Aodhan knew this was likely not true, but he'd be damned to squander such a beautiful opportunity. What an absolutely horrible admittance from Oliver. So horrible, in fact, that he ended up wiping away a stray tear, feeling positively moved by the social blunder. "Amazing. That might have been the nicest thing you've ever said to me. I guess you're not so bad after all, huh?" Another lie. Liv was terrible. Unfortunately, he didn't give the other boy much chance to clarify, for his mouth kept moving without end. "Okay! Since you dug kindness out of your ugly, black heart, I'll let you know my 'secret.' Listen closely, alright?" By this point, the lion had gotten closer to his mentee of the hour, lowering his voice to that of a gentle whisper. Even the grin had been wiped from his features, replaced with furrowed brows and a light frown. The same expression he often saw his mother adopt when he'd done something inappropriate. "All you have to do..." he said, going as far as to cover the side of his mouth from potential onlookers, "... is get good, loser." And just like that, Aodhan threw his head back with a laugh, loud and boisterous as if coming directly from his soul.

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It turned out he was correct in assuming Oliver believed in his stupidity, which simultaneously proved that he, ironically, was not stupid at all. Still, he really didn't expect the other boy to reach this conclusion, what with being so moody and blind all the time. That surely damaged someone's mental facilities, if the Slytherin's social blundering was anything to go by. Overall, it left the scoreboard favoring Aodhan's side. And due to being a kind and graceful winner, he didn't even respond to the other's flippant questioning. He was sure providing an honest answer would impact Liv's mental health anyhow, further damaging the aforementioned mental facilities and honestly just leaving a whole mess of things. No good when it came to maintaining a conversation. No good at all. Instead, he continued with his little joke, anticipation bubbling within his chest until the moment came. In fact, he could hardly believe Oliver trusted him enough to give this a chance. What a huge mistake. Again. So of course he erupted into a mess of giggles and wheezes, the absolute incredulity of the situation tickling his funny bone in the best way. He laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and only stopped after spotting the glare sent in his direction. There was no doubt about it; if his companion carried some kind of supernatural powers—well, aside from the magic they already used—Aodhan would have exploded into the flames on the spot. Actually, maybe that could be something to test later. A dangerous, hands-on experiment of learning just how frustrated someone could get before making things combust with mental magic. His wandering thoughts were redirected, though, after Oliver spoke, the tone noticeably sharper than normal. It forced him to clamp his mouth shut out of curiosity, tilting his head as the other kept going in this strange reaction. "That really wasn't necessary." "I ask you one thing, and you cant do it." Everything was topped off by the flush on Oliver's cheeks, surely creeping up from the pit of the other's stomach to consume his face. But Aodhan couldn't exactly tell what the cause was—anger, or embarrassment? Both? Something else entirely? He wasn't sure. Either way, it was odd to see the person he intended to annoy go beyond... being annoyed, and unintentionally at that. Consequently, he leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms while staring at his tutee. This didn't make much sense. Interesting, yes, but was the situation that bad? Was it so terrible to have been played with just by the slightest amount? He supposed that based on the reaction he was getting, it was that big a deal. At least it was for Sir Grump himself, who had a stick so far up his ass, that anyone could likely see it if his mouth was opened far enough. No one was even obligated to be nice to this guy; how would Oliver fair against someone that genuinely had it out for him? Questions, questions, and more questions that unfortunately couldn't be answered, not when they were likely to have Aodhan sent away and forced into an unbearable state of boredom. Eugh. Yeah, that wasn't an option. "Alright, alright, calm down. You don't have to do all that," he eventually said, forcing himself to not roll his eyes in the process. He ended up plastering a disarming smile on his face instead, done a bit too easily. "Sorry, I'll actually be serious now. Promise." How long that would last, was another matter entirely. Regardless, he tried sticking to his word, tapping the table as he put his brain to work. However, it was never that simple. There was no trick, after all. No shortcut. Just his own brains and propensity for magic, but Oliver would never accept that on its own. Eventually, the youth sighed. "Look, you gotta like... make asso... what's the word... a-sso-ciations? You gotta make associations in your head," he began carefully, trying to make things up as he went along, "Pay attention in class. Read ahead. Relate things, y'know, cause everything is connected. Like the tarantallegra thing I said earlier. That tip was helpful, right?" Aside from the corrections he made on Oliver's paper, this was likely the most genuine he'd been during their entire conversation, with his brows scrunched in concentration. For a moment, he felt like a real instructor, emulating the tone he often heard grade school teachers use during lectures. "... Aside from that, though, I'm being completely honest. I just... study, man. It kinda comes natural to me." For once, there was no flaunting his skills, no additional wise crack. For once, he was trying to level with the other boy, speaking as plainly as he possibly could to get the point across.

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