The Watcher PV: Anja Murtaja Closed

@Jackson Valentine

Anja had noticed the same boy standing outside the Slytherin entrance when she headed back to the dormitories. He skulked around in a shady corner, a book held in his hands. Every now and then, he would look up and scrutinise the passers by, but he never did anything. Over dinner, while sitting alone, Anja had pondered upon what he thought his purpose was. He was clearly looking for someone — what else would a Gryffindor be doing around the Slytherin dorms at that time of day? It annoyed Anja that she didn’t know who it was he was searching the crowd for, and she resolved to talk to him after dinner.

When Anja got back down to the dungeons, she took a closer look at his face, and realised it was the same boy who had bumped into her the other day. She made a tsk sound behind her teeth and walked over to him. She cleared her throat subtly, tucking her hands behind her back.

Anja hadn’t actively looked for him since the day he’d ruined her books, preferring to let him find his way back to her. She wanted to let the apprehension build before crushing. She still didn’t know the Gryffindor’s name, but he was here now, and she had been waiting for this moment.
Her tone just as mocking as the last time they met, she said, “It seems you keep finding me, my Gryffindor friend. Was there something you needed?”

@Anja Murtaja

That voice sounded familiar. The boy lifted his gaze, only to confirm his suspicions. This was met with a grim pursing of his lips as he wondered which direction this would go in. Previously when they had met, neither could've stopped the other from leaving. This time, however, he wasn't going anywhere.

"Some peace and quiet. You aren't still mad at me, are you?" he replied coolly, turning on his heel to acknowledge her. He had nothing against this girl and would much rather have kept their relations civil. His mild conduct was a testament to this in the face of her disrespectful tone. Still, when (if) she made no indication of leaving, he sighed in resignation.

His body leaned languidly off from the wall when he stepped forward, as if she was the one he had come seeking. Maybe she was. She would never know.

"If you're going to approach me with something to say, then we may as well have a proper talk. I've no patience for eavesdroppers or hangers-on," he's gestured over to join him at the wall where he stood. Perhaps he would end up getting a chance to set things right after all.

Or make things worse. Both were a possibility.

Well, his night had started incredibly boring, so mayhaps one interesting turn deserved another. From his pocket, Valentine retrieved a paper package of cheese. Locally made, of course, a small pick up from the Great Hall before he had begun his stakeout. It was fresh-smelling and boasted of a savory taste even through the wrapping. Pulling the coverings apart, he held it out to her, offering with it its rich aroma. Unless she wasn't the type to enjoy such a simple culinary delight.

"Gorgonzola?"

@Jackson Valentine

“Of course I’m still mad at you, but I don't have patience for hangers-on either.”
Anja settled, standing against the wall, watching the few students pass by. The boy didn’t seem to be holding a grudge against her, but that was something that could be sorted out later. What she was really interested in was what he was doing. He was probably looking for someone. That was the safest bet.

“Gorgonzola?" the boy asked.

Anja laughed. It was a clear laugh, not cold like they normally were. “I’m sure I’m not the one you came looking for, am I? Unless you just wanted to offer me food as an olive branch.”
If he was looking for someone. It was a possibility that he just enjoyed wandering around in the dungeons in the evenings. It wasn’t as if there weren’t weird people at Hogwarts — that was something she knew for sure. There were rather a lot of Dhampirs around. Anja sighed. Perhaps she would try to make him feel guilty about her books, or perhaps she would just take some cheese and clear off. Most people were still at dinner, so the corridor was empty.

After a pause, "If you eat it first, I'll have some. I don't trust you not have to poisoned it." If this boy wanted to make it up to her for ruining her books, it would take more than a piece of gorgonzola.

“So, are you going to tell me your name?” If he told her his name, they’d have a conversation. If he didn’t… well, Anja didn’t have anyone to talk to, so if she was to have a conversation, she might as well have one with her enemy.

@Anja Murtaja

Well of course he didn't hold a grudge against her! It wasn't like she had done anything to him. Even if she had, Valentine would have scarcely cared for it. The boy had been threatened, ambushed, and attacked so many times during his tenure at Hogwarts that he adopted a "one free attempt" policy to the disbelief of many others. Practically anybody could mess with him once and get away with it without much rancor.

"No, you're not," he replied cordially in response. "I'm waiting on one of your seniors. Bridget Collins? She's a duelist and she helps me with my casting."

At this point, his face was no longer one that simply vanished back into the crowds, much to his displeasure. After being placed on the Gryffindor Dueling team lineup in what was to be a hellish pairing of (the only team in the whole school with) two first years, he started to become recognized for representing the House of Lions. However, not that many came to know of the underdogs. To the House that never won anything, he felt like cannon fodder. It thus brought a smile to his face that his middling exploits would remain unknown, at least for the time being.

"Sharing food is kinda unhygienic, not gonna lie," he remarked neutrally, bringing the cheese back to himself. He almost smiled at that reference. Sadly for her, there would be no Evil Queen to poison this one's apple. Careful to keep his fingers behind the wrapper, he broke it into two pieces and allowed one to fall into the palm of his hand. Popping it into his mouth like gum, he savored the recreated taste of Italy. The other piece was held out once again toward her.

"The name is Valentine. What would you prefer me to call you?"

Though he was not looking for a confrontation (strictly speaking), this did not mean that he wasn't ready for one. His innermost feelings betrayed his calm exterior as he wondered what this prickly girl would have him do. Her aura of casual malice seemed to invade his thoughts.

"Did you have something you wanted to say to me?"

@Jackson Valentine

Bridget Collins. Anja had heard of her but never met her, and she was sceptical as to whether he was actually looking for her. But still, she casually commented, “You duel? I’m surprised. One with your coordination should be careful around others’ wands.” Sniggering, she took the piece of cheese held out to her, relatively sure that it hadn’t been poisoned. “It’s good,” she reflected, letting the flavour fill her mouth. Culinary experiences were nothing new to Anja, and she did appreciate good food.

When Valentine mentioned hygiene, Anja smiled and said, “We have magic. It's very useful for when we get food poisoning.” She noted how she said we. She should be more careful about keeping the veneer of snobby Pureblood reasoning around this Valentine — she was certain now that he was a Muggle-born, but he did hold himself with a collectedness that she had to admire slightly.

“You can call me Zalika,” she said in response to his question. It seemed they weren’t in the business of first names — really, who was actually called Valentine — so a middle name would have to do. Anja leaned back against the slightly damp wall. She wondered what she had to say to him, really. Perhaps she just wanted some conversation with people who weren’t Slytherins. In other words, a conversation in which she wasn’t constantly trying to win.

Turning back to Valentine, she asked, “Have you ever done something you really regret?” She smirked a little at her own question, seeing as it was directed to someone she didn’t particularly like. Maybe that was the solution, though — talk to someone whose opinion of you holds no sway. Looking back at the opposite wall, she continued. “I suppose I truly regret letting my bigoted father win the last time we played backgammon. He seemed so nice back then, when I didn’t know what he was really doing. That time we bet on favours, and I thought that it was just a harmless game. I still owe him one, and that hangs over my head to this day — a very dangerous man who resides in Nurmengard, could claim a magically bound favour from me at any time, and technically, I have to do exactly as he says.” It was quite a scary thing, actually, to be bound by an ancient force to do something another entity had commanded her to do. She looked over at Valentine again. She thought about how he probably had not a care in the world, being a Gryffindor, and a Muggle-born. She didn’t wish to discriminate, but it was true that in most parts of English society, being one or the other gave you a VIP position.

“And you?”

@Anja Murtaja

Pft. He brushed the jab at his coordination with a well-mannered chuckle. If he had a sickle for every person who wished him ill or tried to bruise his pride, well, he might’ve been able to afford another broom for the Gryffindor quidditch team. As it were, this girl didn’t seem like she was laying into him hard.

In regards to her remark about food poisoning, Valentine had a very different internal response. He assumed that by we, she was referring to all of wizard-kind. That this we included himself. Why wouldn’t he? It was the most logical assumption, after all, and he had no interest in the convoluted squabbles of pureblood society. As history had shown, any society that chose to neglect a fraction of its population was at a severe disadvantage to the society that utilized the full effectiveness of its people. The pureblood ways were outdated, anti-metropolitan, and counterproductive to the restructuring of the modern word order.

He couldn’t help but listen out of curiosity when she began telling him about the game she had played with her father and its grave consequences. A disapproving frown made its way onto his lips. He wasn’t too fond of his childhood upbringing either, but it wasn’t like his dad had exploited his naivety to bind him to an unbreakable promise. This was a whole other level altogether, but perhaps it was just pureblood culture. Where he came from, parents cared for their kids, sometimes in flawed manners that ended up hurting them, but they cared nonetheless.

And she was wrong in what she thought, about him having not a care in the world. Had he enough time, he would have apologized to her in proper when he collided with her in the corridor. He would have remained to defend his honor, and even now, he would have put up a feistier fight. But to the contrary, he had his fair share to worry about, especially with the unnatural developments that were taking place around the school, developments that had impacted him and his friends directly. Hell, he almost died on the Hogwarts express along with the entire train of Gryffindors, but that was a story for another day.

“Me? I regret a lot of things,” he shrugged. If she looked in his eyes then, she would have seen that he meant what he said. The strange thing about this boy, however, was that he differed in his response to regret. What was past was unchangeable, and no amount of self-reflection ever since would shake his resolve. “But what’s done is done, you know? Dwelling on the past for any reason other than to learn from mistakes doesn’t help me anymore.”

He let out a long, involuntary sigh. Though his visage was youthful, the heaviness in his eyes seemed to emulate the weariness of a man of older years. He had in his limited lifetime, seen far more than he should have.

“Besides, we have enough to worry about as it is, what with hags running around the school, the recent Dhampir riots and other nonsense. . . Don’t you agree Zalika?”

@Jackson Valentine

“You Gryffindors and your moving on.” Anja remarked. “I prefer to take a more negative outlook on life, you know, get bogged down by extremely pressing matters that could ultimately result in my expulsion from one of the greatest wizarding schools in the world, especially as they aren’t usual circumstances in civilised society.” She picked at the edge of her sleeve, still immaculate despite the state of the castle and the grounds she trudged though every day. She wasn’t sure whether the Gryffindor knew the actual strain the matter of her favour caused her — he had seemed to brush it off easily, but the look in his eyes suggested that perhaps, just maybe, he knew what was happening. She didn’t want to leave it to fate, however, and decided to move on with the conversation.

“Yes, those Dhampir riots are rather spectacular.” As if to clarify her remark, she added with a quirk of her brow, “Who doesn’t like a little chaos?” The familiar smirk, which had been banished from her face when she spoke about her father, quickly climbed back onto her face, lighting up her eyes. She was at her most blissful when things were going to the dogs, as she preferred to step out of the conflict and watch from the edges, quite above it all. It often gave others the illusion that she held power, and she liked that. It was why she enjoyed setting pranks so much.

Despite many being worried by the Dhampirs, Anja couldn’t find herself less bothered. As long as they didn’t disturb her negatively, she wouldn’t disturb them. What she was more worried about, however, were the hags. “You know, I really don’t mind the Dhampirs,” she said to Valentine, “but I really hate hags.” She hoped this conversation wouldn’t be entirely her reciting moments from her history — she wanted to know more about Valentine before she started spewing nonsense, but maybe a side of her wanted him to ask. Maybe she’d have some fun and make up a ridiculous story. Watch his reaction. Observing peoples’ reactions to her behaviour was another one of her favourite pastimes. “I’m not sure we have enough to worry about at all. Worry keeps people in check, but people are rioting and all. Isn't that evidence?” Not that she minded.

“And you,” she said, “how do you feel about these things?”

@Anja Murtaja

Okay. Now she was just confusing him. Between the random bursts of snarky positivity and subtle negativity, it registered to Valentine that she wasn't really here to say anything to him in particular. She was just saying things. And while he might have entertained these thoughts at a different junction, he was on a mission. Perhaps she'd missed that?

"I think that if you want people to be kept in check, we should be doing something about it instead of speculating."

Yes, we. In his train of thought, he had aligned himself with this girl for the sole reason that she too was a student of Hogwarts, and when the storms came, they would come for them all. At least, he hoped that was how it was. There were a few characters in this school who seemed to bear an unnatural sympathy for those who meant ill toward the greater student body, individuals who proved to be a greater threat than the threat itself. It was always easier to be pierced from within than penetrated from without.

Which begged the question: which sort of individual was Anja?

"Once again, I'm sorry for your books, Zalika. I don't want any trouble with you. I need some quiet so that I don't miss the person I'm looking for. We can talk another time if you'd like, but not now."

With a polite shift in tone, he quietly requested for her to leave.