Friends open for 2

@Wyatt Starkey

Clay had her hands folded neatly on top of the table for what seemed like ten thousand years now. At first she had tried to read but then that got boring because she had too many thoughts racing through her head. Then she tried to entertain herself by throwing a paper ball as high as she could into the air, meaning for it hit the ceiling, but then it suddenly zoomed away only to be sucked into the hand of the librarian, who glared at her. Clay muttered an apology sheepishly but she didn't feel bad at all.

So then, having nothing else to do, Clay's boredom brewed until it lead to annoyance. Why is he taking so long? Does he not know how to tell time? If he didn't want to actually come he should've just told me that. She was a bit upset but she still wanted to see Wyatt. She liked talking to him, even though sometimes she felt like he was trying to push her away. But he would know soon enough that Clay McGlinchy could overcome any barrier, physical or emotional.

When he finally came in most of the annoyance left and she couldn't help but grin; he was technically a friend after all. He would see how her arms were folded in mock annoyance only for her to make room for the boy.

"I know, I know, I'm late," he said as he made his way over to her table. He looked silly, seeming to be actually flustered, if only a little. It surprised her but also made her want to laugh. She didn't think that he'd like that, though.

Clay began going through her notes, which she probably should've done earlier. "Oh, really, I didn't realize." She smirked then studied Wyatt. He was dressed in a normal outfit, just a sweater and pair of jeans. Clay herself was wearing a red hoodie and jeans as well, with her thick, curly hair tied up in a large puff on top of her head. They were both dressed for comfort.

"Thanks for coming, I guess." She pointed at two books, Book of Spells and Hogwarts, a History. They were for two of her favorite classes, Charms and History of Magic. "Which ones do you want to look at first? History? Or Charms? Anything is cool, really, as long as it's not too boring." Like all of our lectures, actually.

Then she asked, studying his face, "I've always wondered—how did you get those scars? It looks terri—I mean, bad." She coughed into her fist.

“I've always wondered—how did you get those scars? It looks terri—I mean, bad."

She coughed into her fist. When she asked what they wanted to study first, he was happy she decided not to question him, and actually study, but something in him knew it wouldn’t last long. He couldn’t make out an answer before she asked the second question of the evening. He rolled his eyes, and thought for a moment. He knew if he said, “There’s a forest near my home that I run around in a lot, and you can trip on fallen tree branches. Oh yeah, also my dad used to beat me up,” It would kill any lighthearted mood that had ever been in the library and even worse, Clay would ask more questions about that time of his life. He decided just to say the first part.

“There’s a forest near my house, I used to go there often. There’s a lot of rocks, fallen tree branches, stuff in general you can trip on.” Then he said, “Also, I get beat up a lot.” He made a small crooked smile. She knew about the bullying. Wyatt hoped that was the last answer she would need, though it was only the first. He grabbed Book of Spells, and opened it to a random page, hoping she would think he was studying and end the interrogation early.

@Clay McGlinchy

@Wyatt Starkey

A forest? Really? How dumb. But she didn't say that aloud. Instead Clay stared at Wyatt at first in concern but then it melted into suspension. That didn't sound quite right. Normally scars heal, especially for wizards. It's extremely easy to make them disappear, whereas you could simply use magic to get rid of them. And even if it were the forest, how often did he stumble around before he got the hang of the area? All Clay knew is that she never wanted to step foot into whatever forest he had been crawling through.

She thumbed the the edge of the book lying in front of her, thinking. Clay felt like something was off and as usual it nagged her, even when her brain was telling her to mind her own business. But her heart was very empathetic and caring, and not all of those scars looked to be the fault of trees and rocks alone.

Clay snatched the book away from him lightning fast and glared through slits. "Tell me now," she demanded. She was surprised that she felt a little bit hurt. Sure, she and Wyatt were friends, she guessed, but she didn't know why she was that bothered. Maybe it was that growing sense of concern for the boy that she couldn't quite always understand.

She knew it had to be more than he was letting. If it was what she thought it was, it would completely explain why he didn't seem that phased by all the bullying, unless he was just that stubborn enough to act like it wasn't that big of a deal. But those scars looked bad, and Purebloods didn't seem to like to leave things looking bad for long, at least when it concerned them.

Clay folded her arms, waiting pointedly. "If someone else is messing with you too just let me at 'em," she growled.

Clay snatched the book away from him. "Tell me now." Her voice was demanding but her face said otherwise. She looked like somewhere in her soul, deep down she cared. Wyatt was still looking down at the table where the textbook used to be.
“It’s really nothing new,” he said, shrugging. He looked over at her. He thought that smiling reassuringly would fit in that context, but at this point, Clay had known him long enough to know that an action like that wouldn’t be something Wyatt would do, so he just left his face expressionless.

Clay folded her arms. "If someone else is messing with you too just let me at 'em," she growled. Wyatt chuckled lightly. He could see a clear picture in his head of the small girl fearlessly trying to fight his father, fists up like muggle boxing. He went back to his resting emotionless expression slowly.
“I thought we were here to study, Clay,” he said slowly. He took the book back and subconsciously began humming Here Today, by Paul McCartney as he flipped through the pages.

“I can feel you staring at me,” he said. After a moment, he spoke again. “Have you read the new Flying syllabus? How are we not going to learn broom maintenance until next year?” He didn’t try to change the subject hastily. To Wyatt, the conversation was over. He was really hoping he wouldn't spend all eternity dodging this one question.

@Clay McGlinchy

“It’s really nothing new,” he replied with a simple shrug of the shoulders.

He didn't seem even to care that she was genuinely concerned, which made her angry, but she kept silent, feeling that there was no point now. He was right, they were here for studying, not talking about their sentimental stuff, although studying itself could be pretty bad.

Clay continued to watch him solemnly, which made him say, “I can feel you staring at me.” She sucked her teeth and snatched up her own book, placing it up so she couldn't see his face. He could be ever so annoying, so it was her turn. I doubt he'd care, but I don't care also.

“Have you read the new Flying syllabus? How are we not going to learn broom maintenance until next year?” The fact that he was so effortlessly changing the subjects made her mad. What was wrong with Wyatt? Why didn't he want to talk to her about those things? Clay felt like they had become good friends over the past few weeks, seldom talking about 'that incident'. She hadn't bothered to tell anyone out of respect for the Slytherin, feeling that it would only make things worse than better. She had only been kind and considerate but inturn he treated her like a person he merely borrowed notes from.

"I actually don't care for flying," she sniffed, turning the page on her book. She was still blocking his view of her. If he would've saw her face he would see that she was fuming behind it, her face slowly twisting in anger as she fretted over why he was so stubborn. It hadn't become that bothersome until now.

Clay tried to pay attention to what she was reading but the words were just a blur.

Suddenly she snapped, slamming down her book. "Why don't you just tell me? Why the secrets? Why do you always have to—just keep things from me? I thought we were friends, Wyatt!" Clay managed to bring her voice down to a few notches out of respect for the library but still received a 'shh!' and disapproving look from the librarian. But she didn't care; her focus was on this boy, the one who'd made her so angry.

"Who cares if it's not frickin' new? Why do you have scars on your face?" she whispered angrily. There was real hurt her eyes and Wyatt would be damned not to be able to tell.

As Wyatt heard the sound of a book being slammed on the table, he looked over at Clay and rolled his eyes.

"Why don't you just tell me? Why the secrets? Why do you always have to—just keep things from me? I thought we were friends, Wyatt!" She was fuming, and Wyatt was starting to get more annoyed at her continued nosiness. Though he did find it nice that she cared so much, having all the attention wasn’t something he liked very much.

Wyatt looked over at the librarian, who shushed them in annoyance, but Clay didn’t seem to care about being quiet at all. She didn’t look away.

"Who cares if it's not frickin' new? Why do you have scars on your face?" she whispered angrily. There was hurt her eyes, and Wyatt could see it clearly.

“I care! Maybe I don’t want a pity party!” He whispered back. He looked back at her, and he only saw the hurt grow, she felt bad for him and he was hurting her at the same time. She was his friend, and he trusted her. She earned that trust- she didn’t even tell anyone about what happened in the abandoned toilets. He sighed. “Sorry.”

“My dad was… violent. Sometimes- when he, uhm... drank. But he left.. and most of them are from the forest and bullies." Then, he added, “Kid bullies.” He kept his voice so low, that only Clay heard him. Not even the librarian with superhuman hearing could pick up a word.

He knew she would see him differently now, there would be no way around it. He really didn’t want her to know, it was heavy, and he would be okay with keeping his secrets forever. He tapped his foot on the ground below him anxiously. After looking at her for a second, he opened the book again and started flipping through the pages again. He played with the corners of the pages, he wasn’t in the mood for reading, nor was he ever, but now especially.

@Wyatt Starkey

“I care! Maybe I don’t want a pity party!” he whispered back. But that only made her madder. She was mad at the fact that he was ever so clueless, that he seemed to think she only want to be sad for him. Yes, Clay was empathetic but she wasn't all rain and dark clouds, she also like to take a look at the sunshine. But it was hard for her to do so when this boy refused to tell her about his darkness, the stuff he wasn't going to ever show her, apparently.

Clay felt so done at this point. She had tried a lot over the past few weeks with subtle hints showing how much she actually cared for him despite how mean he could be or how he avoided her sympathy. All she wanted was a good friend, someone who experience sad stuff like her, who could relate, even though she had never gotten beaten up by a bully before, or a couple of trees.

But if he didn't want to tell her, then so be it. She was going to keep this as just a classmate thing and not be especially nice to him anymore—

"Sorry."

Clay froze, glaring at the table. She had just gotten comfortable with her position, where she didn't have to look much at him and just focus on her studies. But now she looked up at Wyatt, right into his eyes as he finally shared it.

“My dad was…violent," he began. She could hear the weariness in his voice. "Sometimes- when he, uhm... drank. But he left..." What does that mean? "And most of them are from the forest and bullies. Kid bullies." Clay still didn't believe that but she was more focused on the fact that he had mentioned that someone, a guardian, had hit him. That left her silent, but then she recalled how much he disliked 'pity' and quickly fixed her face.

She bit her lips and thought for a moment. It sounded really awful. Wyatt seemed to just be a punching bag to everyone in the entire world at this point, and there was evidence all over his face. Clay could be sad about and try to hug him again and express her sympathies, or she could actually do something useful. Tenderness didn't seem to bode well with the Slytherin.

Clay smoothed out the wrinkles on her paper. "Well," she started, trying to choose her words carefully. It was a little difficult with her eleven year old brain full of anxiety and stress. "That's bad. But, you're here, now, at Hogwarts, of all places, where you can become the best wizard that you can be!" She threw her hands up in a mock cheerfulness.

"Really, you can just make yourself the strongest and the most—what's the word?—cunning, so no one can every step on you again. Honestly, I don't understand how you expect to be called a Slytherin when you let yourself get bested by a couple of twigs and some—other people." She didn't want to give anything away, in case there were ears hidden nearby.

She was mostly back to norm, most of the storm in her eyes having passed. She was still upset but more at the injustice in the world, how people just simply refused to treat others how they would want to be treated. But she guessed a sober fellow couldn't help what he did when he was drunken. Still, it made Clay made thinking of the sad state of her friends life. She promised to herself that she was make Wyatt's time here the best that it could be, as long as her will standed.

She flipped a page. "Actually, your scars make you look kind of...badass." The word felt weird in mouth, like she some forbidden fruit she wasn't supposed to eat but tasted enticing, as if she wanted to use it again. Maybe she would, especially with Mr. Wyatt Starkey around.

"Well, that's bad.”
“Good observation.”
“But, you're here, now, at Hogwarts, of all places, where you can become the best wizard that you can be!" She threw her hands up in a mock cheerfulness. Wyatt let out a groan, though he was thrilled she wasn’t being all sad and whatnot. No pity party and he was happy.

"Really, you can just make yourself the strongest and the most—what's the word?—cunning, so no one can ever step on you again. Honestly, I don't understand how you expect to be called a Slytherin when you let yourself get bested by a couple of twigs and some—other people." He laughed lightly, but it was a question he had asked himself plenty of times during his year at Hogwarts. He was glad he was a Slytherin, but compared to other Slytherins, he really didn’t fit in. He thought of Jack Burnett, that high functioning boy was lucky he didn’t have a baby sitter. Percival Gray, the rich pure-blood narcissist, what a brat. Hanako Tone, the obnoxious flower boy with a girl’s name. The list goes on and on. Where did he fit in all of that?

She flipped a page. "Actually, your scars make you look kind of... badass."
Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Yes, a badass. Much like the great Harry Potter.” Sure, the guy was locked up in Azkaban, but if anything it added to his badassness. Badassery?
He waited before saying, “I trust you won’t… tell anyone?” Though he knew the answer, he asked the question- to be sure.

Interacting with @Clay McGlinchy
Mentions @Jack Burnett, @Percival Gray, and @Hanako Tone

Genevieve laid in the library floor flipping through the pages of the charm's book. She was haphazardly trying to study, but she was feeling a bit restless. She was really nervous about acing all of her first year classes but she also was itching for some excitement and adventure. She figured she needed to get into more trouble or something to have good stories to tell her parents. She cursed her goody-two-shoed-ness. Of course, did it count as trouble if she didn't get caught? She pondered for a moment before getting up to search the shelves for a copy of Jiggery Pokery and Hocus Pocus. She had seen it in the store when she was buying her supplies, it seemed like a good place to start.

As she wandered through the rows of books, she heard some kind of loud-ish talking. It didn't seem angry or concerning or anything, but Gen made her way in its direction, quickly abandoning the idea of causing trouble. The draw of meeting new people was too strong for her to resist. Friendships were kind of like adventures too, right?

Once she could see the duo she was glad she had changed into her normal jeans and T-shirt. Neither of them were wearing their robes. She also noticed the books on the table and smiled.

"Are you guys studying for Charms class? Me too!" Gen blurted out, not giving any thought to her words or what they might have been talking about. "I'm Genevieve, you guys wanna study together?"

She paused for a moment, looking the duo over. "Whoa!" She suddenly said, noticing the girl's cool hair. "Your hair poof is so cool! I wish I could get my hair to look that awesome. My hair's all flat and bleh, you know? Although, even if my hair did cool stuff I would probably be to lazy to actually do it..." Gen quickly realized that probably wasn't the best way to start off a studying session, but it was too late. So she stopped herself from saying anything else stupid and just took a deep breath.

Interactions: @Clay McGlinchy and @Wyatt Starkey