Hideout Fin

“You don't seem to get it, do you?" Clay laughed, dryly. Wyatt’s face didn’t move, he didn’t dare show how he really felt. He wasn’t sure if he’d lash out or cry, so he thought of nothing. No one. "Those boys should get expelled for what they did to you.” Wyatt was puzzled at that. He never thought about school punishments. He had thought about hurting them himself, but when getting a professor to help crossed his mind, he shoved it away immediately. “And even if they won't be, a good person wouldn't just leave anyone here like this, regardless of which house they're in. So stop calling me a hero just because I'm a Gryffindor, that's just...rude. Isn't that what we just call everyone who does something great? Because I can name a few Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins who would do the same thing as me without a thought."

"Anyone can be a hero, it's nothing new." The girl murmured.

“Sorry.” He repeated. “I know you’re just trying to help. I’m... not... used to this. Thanks.”

The girl smiled and crawled over again.

She placed one hand on his shoulder and commanded. "Can you at least look at me?" Wyatt looked her in the eye. "I know you don't think very much of me because I'm a Gryffindor, but I'm...I don't murder people." What? I’m not dead! Why is she speaking nonsense? The Lion quickly continued, "My uncle once said that people who hurt you on the outside kill what's on the inside—though he said that while he was drinking. Being tough and taking stuff is cool and all, but you don't need to do it alone. I-I—" Wyatt cringed slightly at the word ‘drinking.’ Even used in a playful context it never got not scary. He felt like he was going to cry, no matter how hard he held back, but then he heard voices near the entrance of the lavatory. Saved by the shady kids.

The Gryffindor frowned as she heard voices coming near the abandoned toilets. Wyatt hoped she couldn’t see his eyes get glossy. He blinked a few times while her head was facing the door to clear up the tears. His black eye, the left one, hurt when he blinked.

She turned her head back to Wyatt. "I don't care whether you want me to or not but I'm going to help...to the best of my ability." She lifted up her arms, showing her thin arms. "As you couldn't tell before, I'm pretty strong, if I don't say so myself. Fit as a world-class boxer." She giggled, and Wyatt offered a small smile.

"I'm Clay. What's your name?"
Huh. Clay.
“Wyatt.” He smiled a genuine smile.

"Wyatt...," she breathed. Clay was getting exhausted by all of this sappiness. Sure, she'd been upset and concerned minutes ago, but who wanted to feel like that all of the time? Besides, she had done enough, in her opinion. She had given him words of encouragement, comforted him with a hug, and helped clean him up a bit. Sure, he had smiled at her joke but he still looked...broken. Clay felt like he wouldn't use that word exactly, but that's what he looked like to her. She felt proud of herself, though. It was the least she could do in the situation.

She stood up, brushing her hands off on her ruined jeans. Pitiful, she thought, with a grimace. She looked him over until her eyes landed on his bruised eye. She suddenly remembered a time when she was able to heal her cousin's own black eye. It had been something minor and she hadn't known the rules then, but Clay felt like it couldn't hurt now. She would risk getting in trouble for healing someone.

Clay hesitated before bending over, hovering her hand over his face. He didn't look like the type to stop her, at least right now. She placed her warm hand on the worse eye, careful not to out too much pressure, and closed her eyes in concentration. She grimaced, trying to muster as much magic as she could, not even sure it would work. After a few seconds she pulled away but was disappointed to find that his eye looked relatively, only a little less swollen and purple.

"Sorry, I tried," she felt bad for failing but this was what the nurse was for. "You should really go see the nurse, unless you want people to ask about the bruises and blood." She pursed her lips at the sight of him, more in anger now then pity.

"I know a quick way to get there, without anyone seeing. And afterwards we could play a game or something, if you want." Clay offered her hand to him, grinning.

Wyatt noticed Clay hesitate, hovering her hand over his face. She placed her warm hand on the black eye and closed her eyes in concentration. Wyatt flinched and gasped lightly at the contact, he didn't know what she was doing, but he was in no position to push her off. Clay wasn’t putting on a lot of pressure but the wound was still pretty fresh, and it still hurt. Then it hit him, she was healing his eye. Wyatt watched as the girl grimaced, wondering if she’d done this before. After a few seconds, she pulled away. Wyatt couldn’t see himself, but judging by her expression, not much had changed, though a good portion of the pain was gone. Before he could thank her, she spoke.

"Sorry, I tried. You should really go see the nurse, unless you want people to ask about the bruises and blood." She pursed her lips angrily. "I know a quick way to get there, without anyone seeing. And afterwards we could play a game or something, if you want." She offered her hand to the boy on the floor and he took it. He was just as worried to explain his injury to the nurse than he thought he would be to explain the black eye to his dormmates, but adults are usually better than kids, so the nurse it was.

“Sure, let’s go.” He said, having really no other option.

Her smile brightened when he took her hand. She felt good now, feeling like she had done something right finally. Clay usually thought highly of herself but Wyatt was making her think twice; was she just trying hard to live up to being a Gryffindor, or was this who she really was? She never had many chances to be this chivalrous back home, where the children would be considered passive and docile compared to the ones here, but Clay had always thought it was just right to defend someone. But maybe she was just acting, too proud for her own good.

Eh, I don't care, she thought, but she wasn't entirely sure.

Clay peeked out the doorway before exiting, making sure no miscreants were lurking around. The hallway was seemingly empty so she slid out the door, holding it open for Wyatt. Well, she did at first but then she let him hold it open herself. She sighed softly; would she always have to stop being nice around him? Wyatt wasn't accusing her anymore but Clay still checked herself whenever she did something now and she knew it would get tiresome eventually.

They walked quietly at first but then Clay, who hated silence more than anything else in the world, started questioning the Slytherin.

"What do you do when you're not studying or getting bullied?" She was genuinely curious. Clay wondered what kinds of things did wizard kids do. So far she'd heard about wizard chess and pranks from items from Weasley's, but with magic she felt like the ideas were infinite.

"By the way, have you heard of someone named Keylon Harrel? He's my older cousin and he's a Slytherin, too. People say we're twins but I don't see it at all." Clay kept her voice down so they wouldn't attract attention as they took the secret way to the Nurse's office. The way was really just where there was way less traffic, plus or minus a few hidden corridors.

Breaking the silence, Clay began to speak. "What do you do when you're not studying or getting bullied?” Gently put. Wyatt rolled his eyes. He noticed how the Gryffindor kept her voice down, not wanting to draw attention to her shortcut, so Wyatt did the same.

“Well if you’re waiting for me to say I ride hippogriffs with my quidditch buddies on the weekends, you’ll be disappointed.” He said, with his usual bite. “I was raised a muggle. I uh… play guitar and piano… and bass.” He didn’t like talking about music or the instruments he played. His father made him uncomfortable about his soft side, and he didn’t like showing people he had one. Clay had been really nice to him, though. He figured the least he could do was talk about his interests with her.

"By the way, have you heard of someone named Keylon Harrel? He's my older cousin and he's a Slytherin, too. People say we're twins but I don't see it at all.”

“I wouldn’t know. Never met a Keylon Harrel.” Wyatt continued, “if someone said I looked like any of my cousins I’d probably have a mental breakdown that would rival every cruciatus-induced loony case at St. Mungo's.” His cousins were nightmares. Three-year-old triplets, and nightmares, every one of them. He cringed just thinking about the little demons.

Clay wrinkled her nose, smelling his attitude. Why did he always have to speak to her like that? It was maddening because all she was trying to do was lighten the mood, but then he'd just bite back like she'd something truly wrong. But instead of saying something back she just pursed her lips. I wouldn't be surprised if they were riding hippogriffs anyway, she thought with a sniff.

Wyatt explained that he was raised a muggle and played several instruments. She frowned; what did muggles have to do with anything? She knew several wizards, even Purebloods, who played things like the violin, piano, like him, and even the drums. As far as she knew being raised a muggle only effected how people viewed you socially, and not what your abled for.

"That's really neat, but when do you get to play those things here? Don't you do anything else, like maybe read or play games?" Clay did, at least. With all of the rules and regulations the young girl wasn't even sure if she could play games with magic, besides Quidditch and Wizard Chess. But she wasn't really a chess person, and she hadn't signed up for Quidditch. She was considering trying out next year or the year after, but definitely not her very first year of being in the wizarding society.

She was disappointed to hear that he didn't know her cousin. Clay wanted to know if he were doing alright since he refused to speak to her when anyone else was around. He barely nodded her way when they were the only ones walking down a corridor, like she was something to ignore. What was with Slytherins, and people in general at this school?

"Why would you have a mental breakdown? What's wrong with your cousins? Are they ug—hard to look at or something?" Clay had wanted to say 'ugly' but thought better of it. But judging by his cringe she figured maybe she wasn't that way off.

"That's really neat, but when do you get to play those things here? Don't you do anything else, like maybe read or play games?”

“… No. I don’t read.” Wyatt said, plainly. “And, by the way, there is a ballroom that students can play in.” He regretted saying that immediately and hoped Clay wouldn’t ask to see him play. He went there often to practice. He usually went on days it was vacant, and though he thought he was pretty good, he never played for a single person with the exception of his music teacher.

"Why would you have a mental breakdown? What's wrong with your cousins? Are they ug—hard to look at or something?”

Wyatt chuckled lightly at her caution. They were pretty attractive, all of them, but as Wyatt stated in his mind previously, they were all nightmares.

“They’re only one-eighth vela, so that doesn’t have much to do with it, but no. They’re not ‘hard to look at’. They’re just not the type… anyone would want to be associated with.” Wyatt decided he was still being awfully vague and tried again. “They’re like… little demons. They scream like Mandrakes. All… the… time.” Something clicked in his head “Maybe they are Mandrakes...” he said, almost to himself.

Don't read? Clay didn't read too much herself, but she did notice that she had started to do so more than before she came to Hogwarts. She liked reading about space adventures and horror stories but now she more than enough books about magic—real magic, mind you—to keep her occupied for centuries, if that. She found it hard to believe that some students, Muggle-Borns and Wizard-Borns alike, couldn't find the time of the day to read more than what was required for class. How hard was it to be enticed by spells, potions, and the history of magic?

Wyatt mentioned the ballroom, which Clay had forgotten all about. Sometimes she heard music and plays going on in there but she had never really been interested enough to see what was going on. But now she had a good reason to go, even if it were for someone she hardly knew.

"But..." She wanted to ask what he did besides play his instruments, because students weren't always allowed to go there. And if he didn't read then what did he do when he was by himself? But Clay felt like she would be pressing him to much to ask.

He then went onto to explain what he meant about his cousins. They sound really horrible. How bad can someone—or three people—be to compare them to demons and mandrakes? Clay had learned about the latter in Herbology and almost wished she hadn't. Even though their screams had been muffled by the earmuffs she could just tell how terrible they were, and they'd only bothered with the babies!

"But what is a Veela?" she asked. He said they're not bad looking but she had no clue on Earth what a Veela was. Actually, now that she thought of she felt like she had heard the term around some girls. They were really beautiful sixth years who were gushing about another new girl with fire red hair and crystal blue eyes, like some enchanted fox. That made Clay think of her friend Alexa, although the girl had green eyes instead, and Alexa hadn't ever mentioned that term, much less anything about magic.

She grimaced as she thought of her own cousin, who didn't seem quite as horrible as Wyatt's, to say the least. "Well, my cousin has been treating me badly since nearly forever, and I don't really know why. He used to just mess with me and try to get me in trouble but ever since I've come to Hogwarts he's been just ignoring me, like I'm someone not worth noticing. Even when we're the only ones in the corridor he hardly nods my way." She huffed, blowing a curl from her face. "I'm sorry, but most Slytherins I know are just downright rude, and I don't really know why."

She only said sorry because she didn't feel that way towards him. But she wished that everyone could just be kind to one another and stop discriminating. How hard was it to exchange a kind word instead of one full of hate?

Clay saw that they were nearing the Nurse's Office, which would be right around the corner. She glanced over at Wyatt and gave him a lopsided grin. "Maybe I could visit you in the ballroom, if you tell me when. I'm quite bored these days, honestly...do you ever...dance in there?" She couldn't help but giggle, which she tried to stifle. She could not imagine Wyatt dancing.

Wyatt laughed a little when she asked what a veela was, but he didn’t think she was an idiot. She's probably muggle-born. He’d only learned what a veela was last year, but his aunt always talked about how she was a quarter veela. Wyatt always rolled his eyes at that. Sure she was pretty, but one quarter isn’t a lot. “They’re basically just beautiful semi-humans. They can make anyone fall in love with them at the swing of their hips. Quite terrifying actually...”

"Well, my cousin has been treating me badly since nearly forever, and I don't really know why. He used to just mess with me and try to get me in trouble but ever since I've come to Hogwarts he's been just ignoring me, like I'm someone not worth noticing. Even when we're the only ones in the corridor he hardly nods my way." She huffed. Wyatt frowned at this, he never liked people who take their family for granted. Sure, he thought his cousins were annoying, but he loved them, and when they weren’t screaming, he found them quite endearing. "I'm sorry, but most Slytherins I know are just downright rude, and I don't really know why.”

“Thanks.” He said, although he knew she didn’t mean him.

"Maybe I could visit you in the ballroom, if you tell me when. I'm quite bored these days, honestly...do you ever...dance in there?” Wyatt noticed Clay’s giggle and kept a straight face. “All the time.” He said seriously. He didn’t have to look at Clay to see her shock, but then he cracked a small smile. “Did you believe me?” He said, as they turned into the hospital wing.

She cocked an eyebrow when he laughed at her question, but she was used to it. Clay had asked about a jillion questions concerning the inner workings of the wizarding world and most of the reactions came with a frown or titter. Guess I need to study more...but either way, it's not funny.

"Are they like Sirens? But actually beautiful, and not pretending to be with their sing-songy voices?" Clay had always thought that story was funny, about crazy island monsters luring sailors so they could eat them just by their voices alone. She also liked how women were never affected by the Sirens, like they shouldn't be. Girls would never fall for dumb things like that.

While Wyatt didn't seem to like her cousin's attitude either—which she was relieved about, because she was starting to think that perhaps Slytherins saw something vile in her that no one else did, and that she rightfully deserved her poor treatment—the boy didn't seem fazed at all by her joke. Actually, he admitted that he danced in the ballroom, of all things.

Clay could hardly keep her jaw from dropping to the floor. "Excusez-moi?" She was shocked at first but then Clay broke into a grin. Wyatt, dancing? Would he ever cease to surprise? And it was only the first hour or two of them meeting!

'All the time.' he'd said, with the straightest of faces. Clay just had to stop him in his tracks. Even though he looked like he really needed to go to the Nurse, and also because the halls weren't going to stay empty forever, she really wanted to find out if he were for real.

But then about two seconds later he cracked a smile. Her shoulders sagged, and then she raised her arm to punch him playfully but then remembered his condition. Luckily they were walking right into the Hospital Wing.

Clay stood in the doorway, avoiding his eyes for a moment. She felt her face heat up a little; Wyatt seemed like a cool guy, even though he left her feeling unsure of herself a lot. But she wanted to be his friend, she was sure about that. Besides, she had to keep her deal, making sure those idiots from her supposedly proud house left him alone.

She smiled at him, placing a hand on his shoulder like she did before. "Well, I hope you feel better, really. Actually, I know you will, now that I'm your friend." Pretty bold of you, Clay!

"Anyway," she said, as she stepped backwards into the hall. "Whenever we meet again, maybe I can show you a few dance moves? Not sure if they're fit for a ballroom but better than nothing. You can teach me the piano or something in exchange."