A Universal Weakness Finished PV Persephone

@Flash Holmwood

During the conclusion to one of Persephone’s latest-- dare she say, most-- clever conversations, it was decided among the council that the competitor was best avoided, as he trampled over fortress walls as if they were measly building blocks from childhood, all through the method of his word choice and presentation; the interaction was simply intoxicating with falsity. Irresistibility was often used to describe a sense of attraction, which the girl wouldn’t deny, but it wasn’t in the sense believed by most preteens, it never really was. Instead, Persy found his diction and manipulative habits, almost inhuman in nature, irresistibly fatal, like mice being lured to traps by the promise of cheese. Not only that, but their conversations were a necessary reminder that her skill didn’t lie solely in abrasion, but also in intellect undeniable by all. After immense time left to ponder, consider, and drown in remorse for her mistakes, there was yet another hearing, and Flash Holmwood warranted another conversation, if for nothing more than intel or reconnaissance.

However, upon learning his routine and methodically deciding on the most promising moment to retrieve her information, it was apparent that Persy was not the only one in pursuit of the brunet. Almost clinging to his back like the edge of a cliff, yet another nameless student harassed him in desire of something, probably a sort of closure they’d been deprived of recently by Flash and his calculating character. It was a subtle reminder that not everyone was a master of disguise, some regularly experienced pure and raw emotion. The endurance that took on their behalf may have been appreciated by someone else, but that was a wider display of weakness to her. This boy, whoever he was when not expressing in pointless insults, was incapable.

A better time to strike the match yet again may not arise in the near future, March being so apparently busy for people like him, making connections and enjoying free time away from increasingly difficult classes. Beside that even, the built-up stress entangling in her mind needed to be amputated, or at least orderly for a short moment. Since the dreaded month began, Persephone had desperately hunted for a way to unleash the neurotic energy, rid herself of the cowardice that wanted to swallow her whole. Fear was, and always would be, optional. Sometimes though, that choice was blurry, like double vision crossing and moving and melting together into an empty image.

Their eyes met for a moment, recognition flickering in the air between them, new shades of blue and green surfacing as if a rebirth occurred. These circumstances, assisting the other in a social ordeal, were now their ‘thing’, the blonde supposed, if everything required a misleading label. Pushing aside the slight inconvenience it was to not be able to talk to him and then promptly move on, Persy narrowed her sight on the benefits: a way to settle the unspoken debt from before, and a glorious release from the energy impressed within. Taking the bait and not being ensnared by the trap was a rare happening for any creature of instinct.

Long moments of Flash enduring the heat had passed once Persephone decided to finally take regrettable action, weighing her options oh-so carefully as to not present as someone she was not, or a facade there was no pride in possessing. The small hall wasn’t terribly populated, the crowd not dense as she crossed the room with an odd sense of purpose. Behind the nameless, obviously frustrated boy, the blonde leaned into his ear, but her eyes were lingering on Flash. This isn’t for you. This is for me.

“Hi there. I see you’re giving my friend a bit of trouble here? How terribly impolite.” Emphasis pushed against the words, reiterating their vital message. Persephone moved around to look the boy in his eyes, still flaring with rage that wouldn’t disintegrate without a more urgent threat. “Leave. You’ve got about…hmm…” Her voice trailed away, thoughtfully staring as if real consideration was beyond the visible expression. “Three seconds? Yeah, that sounds fair.”

The blonde knew she wasn’t a naturally intimidating person in regards to appearance, it was no mystery why he didn’t move from his spot, so apparently delirious to her range of action. “Well, I did try to use reason.” With those words, she sent her elbow straight into his abdomen, a movement so fluid it could be believed it had been practiced immensely beforehand. In truth, Persy just knew that the elbow was the strongest weapon on the feminine body. Of course, the attack may not have even pained the boy, there was no way to know for certainty; it did, however, send the message across. Usually there would be more reason for a physical attack, but the urgency of their conversation surpassed this bizarre morality, even aside from Persy being so incredibly on edge.

Her eyes darted back to Flash, the primary reason for this sudden endeavor. Whatever the boy did next was unimportant to Persy, who had what she came for: an excuse to settle that debt and possibly have/avoid a conversation. Being so close now, what once sounded efficient in theory began to resemble a death-wish more closely.

As Persephone approached, Flash was taken by her calm acceptance. He had barely seen the girl since his first interaction with her, one he remembered with no little bit of fondness. He had sworn to himself that he would crack the code on her tightly clutched motivations, but had run into his own slew of personal problems since then. It would have been a month given a few more days, he felt the ache of the passage of time. He thought of their confrontation very differently now, playing it back in his head for the theatre-goer in his mind to scrutinze. Back then he would have gladly had nothing to do with the girl, had she not appeared before him with the perfect opportunity to earn some leverage.

What good was that leverage anyway, when invariably she would only want to find a way to take him back down a peg at her earliest convenience? That way of doing things seemed logical, like it should have worked perfectly, and sometimes he could see it-- the moment when someone gave up and submitted to his will. Very rarely did people agree that his will was the one of reason, the one that had more research and planning. People wanted free will, at least after they noticed it was gone. He was forming new theories now, ones with a less aggressive approach.

He was taken aback however when instead of ganging up on Flash while he was down, she turned to his unsavory companion and began to insist that he leave, in the benevolently violent way that she tended to insist. Flash assumed she would dog him until he realized he was outnumbered, but was proven wrong once again when she made the threat real, almost immediately.

He had to stifle a laugh. He covered his mouth with his hand and looked away, an expression that could be mistaken for horror, but instead protected his guilty smile. There were many people he thought deserved a good gut punch, but he knew violence rarely solved any personal conflict. Well, at least if he was doing it. He was fine with someone else doing it for him.

The boy scampered off, cursing under his breath and holding his stomach. The shock alone likely took the wind out of him. Not being a Slytherin, he had no idea yet that the petite, pale blonde was a coiled, venomous snake waiting for any excuse to bare her fangs. The commotion drew the attention of many of the students who had gathered around to study or talk in the hall, but since it was over so quickly, none of them seemed to have seen the event unfold completely, perhaps only bits and pieces. That, or they kept their mouths shut, not wanting to be next.

Now that they were alone, Flash let his fingers drop and let his smile loose on her. She had decided to do exactly as he asked-- help him in his time of need. The satisfaction he got from having something he engineered pay off was no little amount, in fact, it almost made him giddy.

”My hero.” Flash’s joy couldn’t be contained, smiling up to the wrinkles by his eyes. ”Thank you. Honestly. You’ve saved me a lot of grief. I feel like my whole day has opened up now that he’s off. No doubt cursing the world that afflicts him with such unwarranted oppression.”

Flash chuckled again, trying to cut it as short as possible. It was mostly a joke for him, not to mention it was a joke at the boy's expense. He shouldn’t have taken glee in him being elbowed in the gut, but, well, he had. Perhaps it was better for the child to learn not to poke sleeping tigers.

”Excuse me, I shouldn’t make light of his…” Flash could hardly think of a polite way to put it, ”... inherent insipidness.”

He wanted to laugh again, the whole thing had put him in a good mood.

@Persephone Barret

@Flash Holmwood

His smile brought not only a new aura into their relationship, but an uneasy swirl in Persephone’s stomach. Although her actions were primarily motivated by a debt that required repaying, the thought couldn’t be shaken that it had been received in an entirely different perspective; perhaps one of friendship or --somehow worse-- control. The idea may float delicately into his head that her attack was a brainwashed one, programmed into a hollow mind in such a deceptive way that it felt as their own free will. Manipulation hardly had any effect on Persy, a practical master of the art itself, in extreme denial for the longest time that the skill lay in her trunk. This immunity, however, wasn’t an immunity at all, rather a reiteration that those around her were thoroughly incapable of reaching her level. It wasn’t even really a measure of wit; plenty of her fellow first years had some kind of intelligence that placed them on the leader board, but not the experience required to warp this intellect into a useful tool at their disposal.

That quality was reserved for Slytherins, masters of ambition and cunning ways. And, not even all Slytherins could amount to such standards: quite apparently, that was limited to Persephone and Flash Holmwood.

It was possible that the blonde was depriving certain serpents of deserved credit (Burnett and his undeniable lover), but what was that credit worth when it couldn’t be proven in a test of ultimate strength? Not in physical matter, but in an elaborate verbal battle, of which there were few? One could argue this same principal with the brunet who stood before her, having had only one previous interaction before the one at hand. However, the difference lies in the content of said interaction; while others did introduce worthy competition, Flash had exhibited true potential to be a death sentence to her walls of height beyond vision. He had, of course, already pulled information from her that was acutely unwilling to leave its fortress of protection.

Of course, that wasn’t to say that others didn’t present a method of execution. Just a very different one. Worse, even. But letting that taunt her mind and scratch on the chalkboards would only result in immense frustration, as there was no solution to said issues at the moment. They were a pandemic without known cure or vaccine, any and all susceptible to their toxic impression, involuntary suicide.

“I sincerely hope you didn’t misinterpret my use of the word ‘friend’-- a meaningless expression.” She did her best to maintain a certain vibe of disinterest, a thorough lie, as it was the ignorant desire for a follow-up that magnetized his existence. “Don’t thank me. It’s a debt repaid.”

Coldness was, by default, Persy’s inherited nature. Liveliness was nothing more than a trap sprung upon organisms with a beating heart. To remain untouched, freezing and crushed under the weight of the universe holding itself together, was to also remain alive. It was irony, a terrible essence of humor, that to truly live among her peers she had to stay dead inside, trapped in rigor mortis forevermore.

“You can ‘make light’ of whatever you want. Doesn’t sound to me though that you’ve been working on sounding like a normal person.”

Her eyes fell upon their surroundings, the population dull but not empty. Upon first meeting Flash, they’d been in an isolated area, both protected from the possibility of wandering ears, a common phenomenon in Hogwarts that often pretended to be extinct. Even though covers (mostly Persephone’s) had been blown, it had exploded only in the presence of each other. Although this imagined a sense of trust into their relationship, it was rather comforting that words were sealed in one another’s head, protected vigorously by the walls that surrounded the two Slytherins. Exploring eyes would fall upon them, then dart away realizing there was nothing of interest between the two, secrets moving through the air or auras of ‘interest’. Neither would occur of course, Persy had learned well not to expose herself to Flash and interest lay on the very bottom of her priority list.

But then, why did she still feel so unsettled by the spectators?

Flash listened carefully as Persephone listed out her excuses as to why she did as she had of her own volition. It was a scrambling attempt to keep Flash from reading anything into her performance, placed carefully behind a stony, unaffected demeanor, but actions spoke louder than words. She seemed particularly invested in appearing only contractually interested in his plight, but there was something odd about the timing of her rescue. The small hall was not a popular place to lounge, one normally brought friends there to talk, or brought their books and homework to study. Persephone had neither, which made Flash question what she had been doing there to begin with, her eyes having been trained on him like a bird of prey.

It might have been the airy mood the interaction had put him in, but her following comment made him laugh out loud again. He covered his mouth, he had to stop laughing so much before it was mistaken for outright mockery. Given the situation and her frozen, unhappy expression, the insinuation that he hadn’t been working on his speech struck some discordant chord of familiarity and jest. He wondered if Persephone didn’t have a rich sense of humor beneath her glacial exterior.

”You’ve caught me. I haven’t been very diligent.” Flash waved his arm, as if pardoning himself for his transgression. ”I’ve been otherwise occupied. It’s been a dreadfully eventful month.”

Flash’s smile faltered a bit when he saw her looking around the room at the other occupants. It struck the match of recollection in his mind, of what he ought to have been focussing on all along. Who Persephone was, and why she acted like she did. A month ago it had been a fun puzzle for him to solve, one that he thought he might crack to see what reward lay hidden inside for him. With the passage of time however, his mode of operation had developed into something different. He had realized that his distant, hands-off approach was universally despised. There were other methods of discovery he had been trying out, namely one of sincere interest.

He no longer wished to tie a string to every rat that plodded into his traps. Most people, he had discovered, were not worth his time. Trying to micromanage a massive swath of the student population had never brought him desirable results, but he had found dramatic success in individual empathy. Before, he had only used his knowledge of the human brain to further his agenda, but now he saw the value of knowing someone completely. Earning their trust the old fashioned way.

”How about you… you look tense. Is something wrong?”

@Persephone Barret

@Flash Holmwood

A sense of formality, or even the basics of an extensive vocabulary, were typically impressive for their age, but even with the passage of time it brought about an odd sense in Persephone. Something bizarre and untouched, like a memory desperate to be suppressed yet lurking right beneath the surface. It was a sanctimonious botheration, Persy herself usually spoke in a manner containing more maturity than that of her counterparts (with several remarkable exceptions that made her visibly gag). But hearing it come from Flash, though his accent didn’t line up, was a memory in itself, entangled in his diction and his learned habits, presumably from the family she knew so little of. Perhaps that was something to be inquired about, disregarding the concept of a connection that could possibly such an emotional revelation. Could she trust Flash to fight those? Could she trust herself?

Persuasion was futile; the answer would forever be no. Doing such a thing left outcomes in the hands of fate, a ritual the blonde wished to discard whenever possible, and there was hardly a better time than now.

Flash laughed, presumably at her comment on his minuscule efforts to improve himself. Her eyes darted around again, spying for people that gifted the couple their attention, certain colors flickering in their eyes. As if they were assuming things, thinking things that made little to no sense. A sigh escaped her lips, tiredness exhaling with that held breath. The very paranoia that filtered through the grate of fearlessness reminded her of their setting.

“Dreadfully eventful,” The girl hummed quietly, as if gathering stray thoughts, “...yes, I do agree. Seems that way for many.” Perhaps other’s wouldn’t assign the adverb ‘dreadfully’, but there were few others that did Persephone’s month pure justice. ‘Miserably?’

Her comment was vague, barely hinting that her own month had been one of such misery, rather that the time itself was awkward for many. It was unlikely this slipped past the senses of Flash, a detective of motive if one ever arose from ashes. Luckily for Persy, many of his deductions remained nonverbal. At the same time, however, this presented more of an issue for the snake; if his assumptions remained unknown, how was she to combat them? Tear them away and discourage him from ever daring to investigate someone such as herself again? Having the brunet poke around in her thoughts, rearrange them in his desired order, was a safety hazard. A few more days of his attention could result in who-knows-what, even her deepest of secrets becoming common knowledge to the majority.

"How about you… you look tense. Is something wrong?"

His comment immediately struck her, a lightning bolt to the chest flaring throughout her body, so electrifying she was certain she’d flinched. His ulterior motives shined through, at least where the blonde thought they lie, but her willful mind cowered. ‘Is something wrong?’ The question was loaded with answers, a shorter response could result from ‘What’s going right?’ Not only had her rules been broken, but more of her would shatter in approaching months, shatter into pieces that couldn’t be picked back up without scars, deeps cuts along her hands from grasping at broken shards.

“Why would you ask something like that? Didn’t we cover that I see through your acts? Don’t be so pretentious as to think you could trick me twice. You have nothing more to offer me.” Half of her wished to flee, then become submissive to her own orders of avoiding this cunning serpent. Even though her logical mind was aware of such facts, a forsaken instinct remained. The battle continued however, and throwing up the white flag would be of no assistance to her vaporizing reputation.

Flash’s mood changed when he saw Persephone’s reaction to his question. It was almost as though he had struck a defenseless animal, the way she flinched suddenly. His floaty smile fell like a feather to earth, replaced with his usual blank stare. She seemed paranoid about being scrutinized by the students gathered in the small hall, even though they had all decided to stay in their lanes. Even after having been the one to incite violence, she seemed much more afraid of being seen talking to Flash. Was it his bad reputation... no, how could it be, it was better than hers at least. Would it have been the same reaction if she had been talking to anyone else?

Afraid to appear interested? Afraid to appear close? There was only so much he could draw upon given how little they had interacted to that point. It almost seemed like she was constantly fighting a battle with herself, like her fight or flight response had been triggered, but her brain had decided to try to do both at once, leaving her in limbo. The way she constantly defended her relationship to him, as if the thought of any closeness was an insult to her character.

What closeness was there? Was it imagined, or assumed? Or, as he hit on before, had he reminded her of someone already close to her, one she wanted to escape from. Before he could try to unravel the small moving parts inside, he would have to find the latch that opened up the outer shell. He doubted it would be as simple as saying the right thing, or being in the right place. Like a watchmaker, he had to find the right tools, analyse the parts, and move each piece with exacting delicacy and precision.

”If you can see through my act so clearly, how have you not noticed that it fell away?” Flash’s voice showed no emotion, he spoke as if a narrator describing the scene plainly, without any flowery description. ”I really am grateful to you. When someone does something nice for me, regardless of the intention, I feel compelled to show them my appreciation. You may have only wanted to repay me, but you’ve ended up doing much more.”

A few of the students started to leave, either out of the uncomfortable atmosphere that had replaced the cozy one, or the fact that it was getting late. Regardless of the reason, it was a good sign. Before they knew it, they might be alone in the room. Perhaps then Persephone would be more willing to speak her mind candidly.

”I understand if you don’t want to accept my gratitude. Throw it in the fire if you like, I’ll express it anyway.” Flash crossed his arms, normally a sign of closing oneself off, but in this instance he only wanted to show restraint-- the inability to defend himself if she felt like smacking him. ”The reason I asked how you are is because I wanted to know. We all need to talk about ourselves sometimes, or is that a forbidden topic?”

@Persephone Barret

@Flash Holmwood

Something unidentifiable fell behind Flash’s eyes, like a blanket over a fire, the explosion nothing more than a subdued blaze lingering behind his voice. It was a death, sudden and unpredictable, yet the cause was there, just concealed from a peering gaze. Perhaps the brunet had no practical rationale, but the way he talked could convince the ocean to halt in its waves, the mountains to gather their things and carry on. He could speak away a hurricane, and it wasn’t through tone, motivation, or even the vocabulary she so strongly loathed, but through pure, undoctored persuasion. There was nothing but logic behind those iced eyes, compassion a luxury unaffordable, simply a villain masked as a motivator.

Really, they weren’t terribly different in that characteristic.

“Fell away? From my end of this, which you must respect, it looks more like you’ve improved your hiding of it.” Persephone’s lips hardly moved as she responded, such a stone face being carried like a vital organ. “Grateful? You could’ve pushed him away, could you not have?”

His claim made no sense; Persephone only did what Flash hadn’t wished to, banish a tormentor that was relentless in nature. It wasn’t as if the Slytherin boy was too kind for such demands, that conspiracy had been tossed away the moment his manipulation was successful. Looking at him now, admiring his physique and calloused hands, they were not tied, the cunning snake was beyond capable of intimidating someone else. No matter any justification that could be offered on his behalf, that victim had taunted Flash only because it was permitted.

Although the explanation wouldn’t be willingly accepted, it was possible that Flash’s methods relied on the art of subtlety, not unlike another familiar face. Everyone blurred together, individuality was a dream and only that, a reality in another dimension that could never be our own. Even Persy, who strived each day to preserve her originality, had been compared and contrasted to her peers on occasion.

“Has it…” Persephone watched closely as the crowd in the Small Hall thinned, groups leaving or finally passing by to return to their Common Rooms, or perhaps loiter somewhere else they were undesired. “Has it occurred to you, Flash, that I know almost nothing about you, yet you continuously inquire about me?”

The past this boy claimed to have was nugatory, but the emphasis was placed on the idea of equality, eye for an eye one may say. Allowing him to take advantage of her again would be foolish, so such precautions that bred the wrong kind of trust between them were necessary even in dark ages. Aside from this, they should be familiar with one another, nothing left unseen, as the fighter was to know thine enemy.

Danger sent promptly to the back where concepts went to die, abandoned but not forgotten, Persephone shifted her weight more comfortably, like a signal. This wasn’t the white flag, but it was something.

Persephone was unconvinced. Flash had attempted a jab at debating her powers of perception, but it seemed she was well convinced of her own mental superiority. It wasn’t at all illogical to think he had spent that last month honing his craft, making a kind of flawless false earnestness. For a short while, that had been his goal. Even now, he wasn’t completely sure himself when exactly the line could be drawn between ‘real’ and ‘acted’, as he was less concerned about the distinction than most anyway.

Still, the edges of his mouth sprang up when she suggested he could have attacked the boy himself. While he felt the bonds of the responsibility of his reputation, even his brother Darius too had said something similar. Darius and Valerius were always at odds, even though at their core they seemed to strive for identical goals, and follow identical ideals. There was a family motto, scratched boldly across their own family stable: Quidvis recte factum quamvis humile praeclarum. Whatever is rightly done, however humble, is noble. It would be quoted by his sister from time to time when the boys would complain about the lengths they would have to go to, to make sure things were done ‘rightly’.

As far as Flash could tell, hitting people wasn’t right. It would be interesting to know what pathways Persephone’s life had taken to get her to the opposite conclusion. He had snagged on something before, in that she clearly thought her victims deserved punishment, but it was difficult to come up with ideas without any grounding. While he could verify aspects of her personality, they would be standing on flimsy legs until he understood why she had them. But for that, she had to open up to him, which was a bit of a daunting task.

”Whether someone deserves to be hit, I think it’s a decision that requires a great deal of consideration. To make sure it is the right thing to do. For petty squabbles, it seems a bit extreme. I could be facing even greater retaliation in the future because of it.” With every second Flash’s mind turned over another rock to see what theory lay underneath. He wanted to ask millions of questions, but he didn’t want to rush and ruin the carefully constructed momentum of the conversation.

Then, she continued with extremely pertinent information. The thing that Flash seemed to always forget: the element involving knowing him. He could almost slap his forehead for having missed such a crucial detail, both with it being reiterated to him many times and also still making no sense to him. He had his reasons for wanting to understand people: it made him feel more comfortable, more in control of his own life. When he knew what to expect, he could influence people to guide them along the path that was best for everyone. As he gained practice in this, he realized almost everyone had a strict prerequisite in place: that they would refuse to share information about themselves unless they also knew more about him.

It was an odd request. Flash didn’t know what they could possibly want to know, it was like describing a cardboard cutout. Who he was really wasn’t important. He was a catalyst, affecting others without being affected himself. He had fixated on the term when he learned it, feeling an instant connection with it. He preferred to move parts around and say this or that to goad things along and orchestrate positive change without having to involve himself at all. He wondered if Persephone would have liked an explanation about that, if he could think of how to explain it without sounding like a maniac.

”You’re right, I tend not to talk about myself unless asked. I always assume no one is interested to know.” Flash was honest, but still picked his words carefully. She did, in fact, know something about him that no one else at school knew, even Willow, but he wasn’t about to bring it up again.”I’ll tell you what you would like to know, though I fear you’ll only be disappointed by the answers. I am not very interesting.”

@Persephone Barret

@Flash Holmwood

In a twisted way, the two Slytherins finally agreed on something: the decision to incorporate physical violence took immense consideration. Consequences had to be weighed, attacks had to be planned and well contemplated, but this protocol, at least in the case of Persephone, took very little time. Just now, those things had been completed in a matter of seconds before Flash’s abuser had taken an elbow to his stomach, a clearly spontaneous attack. In the girl’s more complex plans, like the long-running one that remained in progress and likely would for months to come, those steps were multiplied. Subtlety was not her art form, and it therefore required more time. Too much time. Beyond that, the brunet was right about another thing; for the blonde, the most important thing was self-awareness and justification of your actions, which is what sets the violent problem-solvers apart from the sociopaths.

As he continued to express his impressive thoughts, disappointment came and a frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. His insinuation that Persy’s defensive action had been extreme raised an inquiring eyebrow, the boy possibly unaware of the different messages delivered with each purposeless word. Every passing moment, it seemed, a new idea would possess him and overcome the last message, this process repeating again and again into a never-ending contradiction of himself. Like warps in time, the mystery of the Devil’s Triangle all rested within Flash. Ego once again falling and rising like the hype of a roller coaster, Persy was displeased with herself to find that a measly housemate was this much of a riddle through her envy eyes.

“Now you’re just being absurd. You’re thankful one moment, but telling me I could’ve brought retaliation on you the next? You can’t just switch between the two until you figure out which version I prefer.” Persephone's frustration was crystal clear through her voice, the girl not bothering to seem content. The male snake’s desire to tear apart the workings of her mind greeted the test subject with aggravation, but nothing more. A wish such as that was reduced to wasted breath until it was acted upon, and his would remain so until information was revealed on his end.

Once again, as if aiming to vex in ways inexplicable to him, Flash’s logic edged along the blade of irrationality. Disregarding the argument his words and effortlessly loathed habits presented, it seemed to Persephone that the boy’s vision was rather limited to the surface for now. Her interest wasn’t solely in the answers the boy had yet to give, but more the implication that accompanied him disclosing that information to her; an eye for an eye. If things were done in such an organized manner, as everything should be, unfair deals and debts would almost be nonexistent in a payment-motivated world.

With all good things came the equality associated with a darker repercussion; an establishment of equality meant one of trust, one that Persy would be forced to convince herself was business-related and necessary. But exposing herself to the Slytherin who stood before her, suddenly of no real use, seemed more erroneous than methodical. These same thoughts repeated in the blonde’s mind like a looped symphony, familiar to an extent that the melody stays long after it has been turned off.

A final remark left him, inviting his soon-to-be interrogator to ask him any question of choice with a subtle warning of disinterest. What was it she wanted to know, though? Even Persephone herself was unsure what the snake had to offer with so little warning.

“Tell you what,” Persy began, small gaps of thought between each word, “We’re just going to be even about this, alright? Neither one of us is going to know more about each other than the other.” Their eyes met for a fleeting moment in which her gaze was a dagger. “Which means no mind games.”

A certain inquiry that would inevitably work its way into this little game of chess they played filled her once preoccupied mind, but was suppressed almost as quickly as it had risen. The table needed to be set before the game could commence.