Ah, So You're That Type of Person Reopened

"Sure, I can show you. I'm Henry, by the way. Uh, just Henry." Kaegan looked at the boy distastefully. The Gryffindor hadn't asked for an introduction- in fact, he had been hoping they could make it through this whole ordeal without any conversation. Upon hearing Henry's voice, he smirked with a conceited air, vaguely remembering a similar voice bouncing off one of the corridor walls, arguing about family and whatnot with a group that sounded like they had a longstanding grudge. Kaegan brushed a clump of crumbling mud off the front of his robes and scowled, watching it hit the stone ground and disintegrate into a pile of dust.

"Well, Just Henry, there's no time greater than the present, is there?" he finally spat out, notes of mockery mingling with his bitter tone. The boy scanned the passages branching off on all sides, each one uniquely stocked with arrays of tapestries and gilded portraits. A flickering torch mounted on the wall to their left nestled comfortably in a brass sconce, lighting the way down a steep set of stairs that ended in a heavy, square door. Enchanted suits of armor stretched metallic joints before dozing off on their pedestals, rusty hands grasping medieval swords. Kaegan followed the path of the drafty passage with his eyes, landing on a surprisingly detailed picture frame, engraved with an assortment of birds and plants. The artwork inside was of a sweeping landscape, dotted with bristling evergreens and blue mountains, snowy peaks penetrating a windy sky.

The boy felt like there was something fundamental missing from the scenery, an integral character that had vanished. Ah, yes, the knight. Kaegan turned back to Henry with a scowl, bothered that he was wasting his own time like this, identifying portraits when he should have been halfway to the common room by now.

Wait.

He let out a disdainful laugh, turning away from his former guide. On one of the first days at Hogwarts, the Gryffindor could vividly remember wandering through this hall and getting into a rather animated argument with a French knight in the landscape, who was straddling an amber horse and seemed quite upset. The common room would be just two hallways down and atop the stairs on the left, exactly where it'd been the entirety of Kaegan's months here.

"Well, you've been oh so helpful, but I'm afraid I've realized where I am," he snarked over his shoulder, moving in the direction of the familiar picture. Thanks ever so mu-" the boy was cut off when someone rounded the corner and stopped directly in front of him, their arms crossed and face an irate red- the girl from Herbology.

"I cannot believe you're such a j-jerk," she snapped, voice cracking as she neared the end of her sentence. "All I was doing was being friendly, but Merlin, you have no manners. My day was going perfectly fine until you ruined it!" Kaegan moved to sidestep her, smirking at her shrill voice. She was one of those loud girls, proudly exclaiming her opinions on most matters, resulting in the whole Herbology class knowing both her blood purity and her favorite breed of owl in the same lesson. "Oh, my sincerest apologies," he said sarcastically.

The girl was fuming as she blocked his way again, waving her hands in a frenzy of directed anger. "I'm sick and tired of you, you know that? You're just horrid. Absolutely horrid. I never did anything to you, and I'm going to stand here until I hear an apology!" Her voice had reached its highest point, and she folded her arms, stubbornly refusing to let up. Kaegan pressed his lips together, annoyed now. "I'd advise you think about what you're doing. You don't want to be docked house points, do you? Let's see... three for blocking the hallway and ten for being Muggleborn," he spat out distastefully. The girl opened her mouth, gaping for a brief second, before shoving past him and running in the opposite direction.

Kaegan smugly continued on, not bothering to glance back. From what he'd gathered of Henry, there seemed to be little doubt of him not being bothered by the insult. The stone wall ahead curved away to the left, directed straight towards the common room, and the Gryffindor, brushing more dirt off his robes, felt salf-satisfied.

"You shouldn't have said that. Why would it matter if she was Muggleborn or not? Some of my closest friends are Muggleborn and their bloody brilliant," Henry called out from behind Kaegan. The Gryffindor stopped in the center of the hallway, not turning around while he tried to unclench his angry jaw in vain. Out of all the days, out of all the times, out of all the scenarios, he had to meet the one Slytherin who was adamant about blood status now? What was Henry even doing here anymore? He must have somewhere useful to be, a task that didn't involve bothering Kaegan.

The Slytherin said something else about the state of his robes, but Kaegan was barely listening. He turned a little to the left, lips pressed in a sarcastic smile, gaze exasperatedly pointed at the ceiling, as if making eye contact with Henry was below him. "Yes, I'm sure your friends know a lot about rubber ducks and other extremely fascinating Muggle fancies, yes?" he snapped, voice laced with mockery. "Gee, why don't you get one to teach me? I've always wondered about the complicated schematics in a rubber duck."

The common room was still right around the corner, but showers and a fresh change of clothes were now the least of Kaegan's priorities. "As for the mud, they didn't really have a choice, did they?" he spat. The Gryffindor would be surprised if Henry even managed to grasp any negative connotations attached to the phrase- he didn't seem like the brightest one in the bunch, judging from his oddly subdued way of speaking, like his mind was constantly somewhere else. And had he called him "first-year" earlier? Somehow, Kaegan thought distastefully, he'd managed to pick up his age but not his name. Truly an incredible deduction, considering they were roughly the same height.

Henry, still looking mildly preoccupied with other thoughts, was speaking again: "Why did you mention her blood status? Are you a blood purist or something?" Kaegan let out a lofty snicker, finally looking at his companion head-on. "Did you figure that out all by yourself? Though blood-purist is quite the word. I prefer 'better.'" A slight, imperceptible wince crossed his face, light shame that he always successfully managed to wave away.

The knight in the landmark portrait had returned, riding gallantly on his horse and brandishing a sword in the painted air. Kaegan raised a haughty brow at him and turned to leave again, deeming the conversation done and not wanting to spend any longer in his soiled clothes than necessary. There was a slight snicker as the Gryffindor passed the portrait, and he turned to glare at the knight, who was cocking his head in crudely painted disdain. The amber horse whinnied and shook its mane, expressing reproach on its speckled snout, like him leaving the tête-à-tête made him look like a fool. Kaegan glared at the twosome and, leaning down, blew a sharp breath of air at the horse, scaring it enough for its mane to ruffle and its hind legs to kick up, treading air. The knight fell off and landed with a quiet thump on the picturesque grass, shaking a metal fist and cursing with his tiny voice in a mix of French and Latin. The horse flared its nostrils once and then ambled off, headed for a glittering lake presiding in the very back of the landscape.

Still, the ridiculing picture had been the final straw for Kaegan. He gritted his teeth in annoyance, put the common room out of his mind, and looked back at Henry, thoroughly angered that everything in this hall, either living or painted, had managed to detain him. Now that he thought about it, though, on any normal day the Slytherin would have irked him enough to stay- was mud really going to stop him?

"So, who are these 'bloody brilliant' Muggleborn friends of yours anyways? Pray, enlighten me."

Kaegan scowled at Henry, green eyes cold. The Gryffindor's companion was foolish and aggravating, and he was glad the knight had mocked him into staying, so he could teach the blood traitor how to respect those superior. The Slytherin had also turned around once to exit, but on Kaegan's words he spun and cooly spoke of his friends, seeming defiantly protective, before moving on to dully comment on the jab about rubber ducks. "Having difficulty recognizing sarcasm, Henry? I see you clearly aren't up to your friends' high standards," Kaegan spat out, his jaw clenched and his lips in a tight, furious smile. Clearly, the Slytherin wasn't doing his reading. Hogwarts' library prided itself on useful literature.

Henry had started to take his leave again, but he turned when Kaegan spoke, looking sharply focused this time. Anger seemed to flare in the boy as he strode towards the Gryffindor, snapping something about soiled robes. Kaegan could barely hear him over the low buzzing in his ears- nobody so far had managed to make him this annoyed. Yes, the other students often proved to be nuisances, but it was more of an air of condescension that brought him to join into conversation with them, not any actual compelling lividity. "I think it says something about your social skills when the only thing you can resort to is the topic of mud," Kaegan said mockingly, taking another step forward so they were face to face. His teeth were gritted and he had straightened up, enough so that he was at a slight advantage in height.

"So you think your better and a blood purist? Well, then how are you a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin? Then you threaten the hat to get in that house?" Henry asked, jeering. Kaegan suppressed a haughty smile, a brief flicker of thought crossing his mind: Merlin, they were infuriatingly similar. Maybe if they'd started on the right foot, their personalities could have made for an easy comeradeship. Unlikely, the Gryffindor concluded, cocking his head patronizingly. I prefer friends who aren't imbeciles.

"And aren't Slytherins supposed to be intimidating and clever? I guess we were both misjudged in that aspect," he said, tone dripping with satire. Henry, who looked like he was on the verge of leaving again, looked back, shooting out a phrase that coined Kaegan as unintelligent before ending with a mimicking heckle. Original. The Gryffindor had never been one for physical violence- more often than not, he triumphed through scathing words and bitter looks- but now, he wouldn't be remorseful if someone took it upon themselves to give Henry a black eye or two. They had similar stature, neither one with a seemingly obvious advantage in build or strength, and Kaegan briefly considered drawing his wand before thinking otherwise. Clearly, the Slytherin wasn't worth his time or effort.

"Did your mother ever teach you how to play nicely with others, Henry?" he snarked, leaning backwards slightly with an air of conceit. They'd been angrily nose-to-nose for the past few minutes, and the Gryffindor knew exactly how a Prefect would respond if they saw what looked like the beginning of a fight.

"Luckily, I have you to stand next to. You make me look like a prodigy." Kaegan smirked, his eyes flicking briefly over to a torch flickering in its sconce, lighting itself solemnly to the darkness falling around the castle. Dinner would likely be soon, but Kaegan didn't advance towards his common room. He had a resolute determination not to be the first one to leave, and another to get Henry in a situation where he couldn't defend his precious, aggravating friends. The Gryffindor arched one brow superciliously and, speaking with a ridiculing tone, finished:

"Pardon me, but I don't recall hearing an answer to my question. Are you going to make me hunt one down? That might take an awfully long time, I believe they're scarce."

Kaegan watched Henry with an arrogant smirk, disdainfully witnessing his attempt to play as the bigger person and walk away from what seemed to be on the brink of escalation. It was almost funny to the Gryffindor, how he paced up the hallway and then turned to deliver a retort before taking his leave once more, only to stop abruptly at the sound of Kaegan's mocking voice. The Slytherin seemed mildly upset, but his voice was calm and steady and he failed to miss a beat in delivering his retaliations. While well versed on wizarding literature through the ages- everything from Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling to Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration- and adept in his classical Muggle works, the reference of Rumpelstiltskin almost went entirely over Kaegan's head. The Gryffindor prided himself on his potential and capacity for learning and spent a great deal of time expanding this, through methods both willingly undertaken and forced upon him, which often led him to higher pieces above the common fairy tales. Though any Muggle Studies were viewed by him as entirely frivolous, they still proved to have assets outside of accumulative knowledge.

This remark, which Kaegan still didn't entirely understand the poignance of, served to confirm his notion of Henry, while still viable to be a Pureblood, was lacking the proper respect for his status. With a large world open to him, he chose to read the likes of the Grimms Brothers, with protective ogres and ferocious dragons? There were plenty of those in the world they currently thrived in, enough to satiate even the strongest appetite for magic, and yet somehow, this Slytherin found reading poor depictions of them more compelling.

The next few replies he took with a slightly amused, bored gaze, considering it a condescension to bother listening at this point. Henry was parroting Kaegan's earlier words with a defensive tinge, and it was uninteresting to the Gryffindor who, while recognizing this boy for being uneasily flustered, still greatly disliked him and felt only exasperation at the peevish counters. [reducio]I'm not sure where you got the idea that all Gryffindors were akin to you, Henry,[/reducio] he thought, cocking his head with a patronizing look at his companion.

Suddenly, he was tired of this. Every person he'd met so far had either sparked a distaste in him or vice versa, ending with resentful partings and scathing further encounters. There was the girl he'd met by the lake, who'd had him wrestle her cat out of the thorny bushes, the two at indignant odds all the while. Likewise, there was the girl from the Quiddich shop, a headstrong, annoying type with pertinent opinions and a habit of running her mouth. This was leaving out other encounters- in sarcastic run-ins amidst Ollivander's vast stores of wands to this irking event, he constantly found himself irritated by the tedium, the perpetual string of obnoxious, foolish students. It was then that he decided to cut off this futile conversation and return to his common room, leaving the Slytherin to stand alone in the hall and debate whether or not to leave.

Suddenly, provoked by one of Kaegan's ripostes, Henry turned abruptly from his indecisive stance and strode towards him, looking surprisingly furious. The Gryffindor smirked, smugly pleased that his newfound company's aloof facade had melted away to reveal the typical reaction of a young boy being criticized. "Maybe if your thought process was as fast as your moods-" he began but was abruptly cut off by Henry ragefully snatching a wand from the pocket of his robe and gripping it under Kaegan's chin, breathing heavily. Any and all thoughts of momentary reprieve, or at least a short leave from the Slytherin immediately diminished into the background, devolving into notions that would never come into play.

The Gryffindor smiled without showing his teeth, his entire demeanor conceited and supercilious as he tilted his head up, alleviating the pressure of the wand on his pale neck. There was no loud thrumming of blood in his ears, no incessant, irate buzz of vexation blocking and marring his thoughts; in fact, Kaegan found himself processing this all very clearly as he eyed Henry with a superior gaze, the smirk only wavering imperceptibly as the wand neared, held firmly by the boy opposite. Yes, he was angry, extremely, and mildly apprehensive of the looming threat, but he was managing to conceal it well under an unfaltering mask of arrogance.

"This wasn't necessary. I was ignoring you perfectly well the first time," Kaegan said, his voice even and cold. It was slightly difficult to talk with Henry brandishing the slim stick menacingly close to his throat, but the words remained as caustic as they would be had the two boys been meters apart. The Gryffindor was entirely sure- even over-confident, maybe- that he was more intelligent than his companion, more educated on spells and magic, this information gleaned from the books and passages he'd spent his life reading. He'd never practiced, of course, but Henry wasn't aware of this hindrance, and the maddened Slytherin didn't seem like the type who couldn't be easily convinced.

Kaegan reached into his back pocket, withdrawing the thin, dark wand he'd been given little more than a month ago, moving to hold it poised in opposition to Henry's with a steady hand. His jaw was clenched, an outward sign of annoyance at this turn of events, but the rest of his face, while snide, showed no visible frustration.

"Ah, the blood traitor knows how to hold a wand. Shocking."