Caught In The Act PV George Henry Finished

@George Henry

Ivy would ignore the boy's protests about Bach's Muggle heritage - mostly because she knew he right and didn't know what to say. She chose to focus on his muddle of other two composers' name instead. "It's Paganini and Tchaikovsky, by the way," she informed him as she sat down by the piano. She had to refrain from rolling her eyes - it really wasn't that hard. Or was the boy doing it on purpose, just to spite her?

He didn't interrupt her performance until the end, when he slammed his hand down onto the lower notes of the piano. Ivy nearly fell off the seat and glared at him angrily. What the hell? "What did you do that for?" Before she could launch an angry tirade at him, though, he consoled her with praising words. A pleased smile tugged upwards at the corners of Ivy's mouth, and all thoughts of his rude interruption vanished. "I learnt to play the piano when I was two." She arched an eyebrow at his next request. "I just did, didn't I?"

Another thought occurred to her and her grey eyes lit up. "If you promise not to tell anyone about the whole music thing, I'll teach you how to play." And just in case it wasn't appealing to him, she threw in something else. "I can help you with magical things! You're a Muggleborn, so you're relatively new to this world, right? I'll teach you about the wizarding world and stuff." Ivy was just bluffing now, but she really didn't want the news reaching her parents' ears, especially her mother, who had wanted Ivy to attend Beauxbatons and threatened that if she messed up at Hogwarts, she would take her out and send her to France to live with her grandmère.

@Ivy Bellamy

"No, like, show me how!" George pleaded. He suddenly found himself admiring the girl he had despised just a moment ago. Maybe it was only her family that was so bad, even if she was part of her family, and seemed to have their attitudes in her back pocket and ready to use at a moment's notice. It didn't matter where you got your opinions from. They were yours when you started spouting them. Of course, that line of thinking didn't matter anymore - he was contemplating her offer, now.

"I know plenty about magical things! But... more never hurts," he admitted. He could argue all day that a pureblood was just the same as a muggleborn, but there were undeniable differences in the way they were raised. The most notable difference being, of course, magic. He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder, indicating the record player that they had abandoned. Maybe I can teach you something about the muggles, too. Not all bad, you know..."

He reached out and cracked his knuckles as best he could, popping a few joints and then struggling to crack the last. He gave up with a muttered 'ow' before moving on. "I will tell nobody ever EVER if you teach me how to play like that!"

His mother played piano, but he had never thought to ask her for a lesson. She was so busy all of the time, it felt cruel to ask more of her, especially when she spent all day teaching. Kids must get pretty annoying after so long. If he was a teacher, he would hate kids. It would be difficult to be a good student for someone as constantly annoying as Ivy, but he would put on his best face to make sure he could learn. "Okay, it's a deal. Let's shake on it."

Like a consummate professional, George extended his hand for a firm shake. That was how deals got sealed, after all.

@George Henry

"You mean you want me to teach you?" Ivy raised her eyebrows. She wasn't a teacher. And even if she was, she was sure that she'd be a terrible one. She was blunt and insensitive, something she was well aware of. It was best to leave these things up to other people. No, perhaps she'd be better at teaching him about the magical world.

But it appeared that both ideas appealed to him, judging by the way he reacted. He even offered to teach her about the Muggle world. Ivy grimaced slightly. She knew that not all Muggles were bad. Her older sister had taken her out to see many Muggle musicals and plays, after all, and she had loved them. No monster could create something so beautiful, despite what her parents told her.

"Mm," she replied, not really accepting nor denying his offer.

Ivy winced as he tried to crack his knuckles... and failed on the last. An amused smile spread across her features at this sight and clapped sarcastically as she listened to his next words. "Nice one, tough guy. Ok, fine, I'll teach you to play the piano."

Their skills would never be on the same level, but he didn't have to know that. Ivy wasn't being mean, it was the truth. Even if he did get to playing Liszt and Rachmaninoff one day, Ivy would be playing something harder, something more advanced. It was just how it would work.

She hesitated slightly, eyeing the hand he had just extended to her cautiously. "I don't even know your name. I can't just call you 'thick-headed idiot' in the lessons, can I?"

@Ivy Bellamy

George kept his arm out stiff. He was getting his deal. She might not have been a teacher, but teaching wasn't all that hard, really. George's mother taught kids his age every day, and she barely broke a sweat. In fact, she seemed to get some kind of enjoyment out of it. His father insisted she must have something wrong in her head to enjoy being surrounded by those kids every day, but he said that he loved her for it, too. If Ivy could teach, George would not love her, but he'd dislike her less. That was as good a start as any.

"George Henry, pleasure to meet you!" the boy insisted, although it had been quite unpleasant. The memory of an experience is viewed through the lens of memory - it ended well, so it felt like it had gone well. It wasn't completely over yet, but it was close enough to call, in his judgement. "And who do I have the pleasure of learning from?"

He was curious about all of it - piano, the pureblood world, and Ivy herself. It had felt good to let out some steam and yell at somebody, given that he hadn't had any fights with his brother on account of being at Hogwarts. "You can call me thick-headed idiot, too, but only if I really deserve it, okay?"

The boy laughed, tension leaving his body except for a minor ache from holding out his arm to the girl for the duration of their 'negotiations'. He flexed his fingers and squeezed momentarily into a fist, just trying to work out some of the pent-up energy in him. It hurt to sit still, even if it was just an arm.

He had to reiterate his introduction to make the real shake turn out right. Crisp and businesslike, combined with an introduction. He even added a bit more flair, bestowing himself with additional titles, eyes following Ivy's face to gauge her approval. "George Henry, future pianist, ex-Muggle, unluckily Hufflepuff."

@George Henry

After the boy's introduction, Ivy pasted a smile on her face. It looked like she would have to play teacher now. Ugh, alright, whatever it took to keep his mouth shut... "Ivy Bellamy. I wish I could say I'm pleased to meet you."

Too blunt? Ha, probably. But who cared? There was plenty of time to play nice later on. (It looked like she would have to, unless she was going to be one of those extra-mean, sour-faced teachers who carried around one of those stupid walking sticks...)

"Ok then, you said it, not me," Ivy said, with a grin. She would have to summon all of her patience in order to refrain from calling him 'thick-headed idiot', but if he was being overly frustrating, she was glad to have that as an option - although, there were so many more creative nicknames out there that would irritate him even more. Ivy could think of a few off the top of her head, but decided to save them for the lessons.

Ivy shook his hand as he re-introduced himself, although with a little more theatrical flair. She only just stopped herself from rolling her eyes and instead smiled at him, following suit. "Ivy Bellamy, future teacher, pureblood, unfortunately Gryffindor." She made a face at him before letting go of his hand. "I guess we have a deal. I'll, uh, owl you about the lessons."

She was feeling rather inclined to never owl him at all, but with his infuriating nature, he'd probably pester her about it with every chance he got if she did that. Ivy started to back away, eager to leave. "I gotta go now. See you!" She spun on her heel and ran down the stairs. God, what a mortifying way to spend the afternoon.

Ivy leaves unless stopped.

@Ivy Bellamy

"Okay! I'll see you around, Ivy! It was nice meeting you!" George called out after the girl, genuinely pleased to have met her. Well, that was a roller coaster. His heart was still beating at an uncomfortable rate - the heat of the argument was quickly quenched by the coolness of her piano playing. By the end, he thought they had developed something of a rapport - hating their own houses and poking fun at each other. Little did he know that those jabs were intended to hurt on her part. He took them in stride.

He wouldn't dare stop her from leaving, lest she spin on her heel and karate chop his head clean off. She wasn't someone that he wanted to annoy again - she was fearsome, and she knew how to get mean fast. Keeping up was possible, but not without breaking a sweat.

Again, he had pulled together a good bit of blackmail without even realizing it. The fastest path to unbreakable bond with George was to make some kind of agreement - a pinky promise, some pact of friendship. Being sworn to secrecy was just as good and could often be done quicker, and it had the power to build a friendship even with people who had good cause to hate you. Ivy was one such person. He just hoped they would stay friends long enough to learn the piano.

For now, George returned his attention to the record player - fiddling with it until he got it to start again. Then, all alone in the rehearsal room, he danced his blues away with his mom's '80s moves.

And that's the end!