Another Half-Blood Prince PV Dealla Prince Closed

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By SK

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A flash of red hit the practice dummy straight in the chest. Dee frowned, adjusting her stance slightly, and tried again. "Expelliarmus." This one was a little better, more powerful, but only hit her target's shoulder. She rolled her shoulders back, muscles stiff from the tension in her body, a trickle of sweat running down the side of her face but she ignored it. Tried again. Another cast, this time aimed perfectly, but again not as strong as she would have liked. Well, when in a bind, she supposed she preferred hitting her mark over being powerful.

This wasn't a rare scene, lately, Dee practising the same spell, movement and incantation, over and over again, until it sounded ridiculous to her own ears before she switched to a different one. It was draining - her pale skin and the shadows around her eyes, making her irises look even more intensely blue, were proof of that - but the second duel was only days away, and she couldn't let what happened in the first one happen again. Wouldn't let it.

"Expelliarmus." This time, she knew what was coming before it happened, could feel it building. It was a familiar sensation by now, that sense of wrongness before a spell exploded back at her, ripping the wand from her fingers. "By Salazar's shiny bald head!" she cursed, lunging after it. How was this still happening? What had it been this time, the movement not crisp enough? She didn't think she had slurred the incantation, although she sometimes cheated a little around the r sound. Maybe it was just her wand that saw it necessary to remind her how pigheaded it was every once in a while. Made her wish she'd gotten a dragon heartstring one instead, sometimes.

It had her nerves stretched taut, on the verge of ripping, but she didn't hesitate before she got back on her feet. This was what practice was for, after all, and one of the reasons she made sure she was alone for it most of the time. She let out a deep breath, rolled her neck, and resumed stance. "Expelliarmus." Ah, this was what she was talking about. The spell had been darn near perfect, a bright flash of light, well-aimed at the center of the dummy's chest. She allowed a tight smile onto her face for the first time in a while, taking a moment to enjoy the satisfying feeling of a well-cast spell. Until she noticed that she wasn't alone after all.

Dee's first reaction was to blink. He knew her, apparently, this oddly coloured boy. What was that, some attempt at camouflage if he had to hide in high grass? Wrong time of the year for that. The bright yellow of his eyes, however, made her think of a predator. Alligators, snakes, even wolves, those tended to have yellow eyes. This one was a snake, apparently, judging from the crest on his chest.

It was only then that his words filtered through to her, and Dee tensed, her eyes narrowing. Each sentence, each carefully placed insult seemed designed to happily saw away at her already fraying nerves. Her fingers tightened around her wand, her weight moving forward to balance over the balls of her feet. A habit, designed to make herself seem taller when facing off opposition that was likely physically superior. "Oh, I'm self-aware enough to be properly ashamed of my distasteful family relations," she snapped back, heated. Not one with a lot of patience even in the best of times, it took little to push her over the edge these days. He'd gotten under her skin with little effort. "Truly, I wish my dad was muggle-born too. That would save me the shame of being associated with them, and also lower any risk I have of being however distantly related to clowns like you." The assumption was an easy one to make. Whoever talked like this couldn't be anything but a ridiculously pompous pure-blood, so puffed up with his own importance that it was a miracle his feet still managed to touch the ground.

He seemed to assign a great deal of importance to names, but she supposed that too was grounded in ridiculous pureblood philosophy. Dee generally cared so little about names that she frequently forgot to introduce herself, not that it had been necessary in this encounter. She sneered. "If you think the meanings of names are that relevant, then maybe you should listen to what they're saying, hm?" Not that she knew any of the people he was referring to except for Ileen, and she certainly didn't consider her below herself. "What's yours, then? Earthworm? Wait, no, sorry, those are both useful and blessedly quiet. Something that barks a lot of loud empty words..." She pretended to think for a second, tapped her chin in thought, then snapped the fingers of her free left hand at him, right under his nose. "Chihuahua. Did I get it?"

The Half-Blood Prince rang a bell, somewhere distantly in her mind, but this one had been off-mark, not nearly as well-placed as his other comments. Not like she had ever referred to herself as such, or felt any sort of kinship to the original carrier of the name. She was about to tell him that he seemed to be making a joke of himself fairly well without needing the assistance of names, but the last remark following the shrug had her growing still, the fire of her temper burning down until it was almost cold instead, low and focused. The fake sweetness of her smile didn't quite manage to hide its edges, nor the way her eyes were as sharp as glass shards. She adjusted the grip on her wand. "Oh, I'd be happy to show you just how much of a joke as a duelling captain I am. Happens I'm in need of a moving practice target. Are you volunteering?"

@Kit Paine

Was that a smile that played on those thin lips, or a trick of the light? It was hard to say. When said lips produced a voice once more, it was cold and flat like a slab of slate.

"Well said. If only you were as talented with magic as you are with insults." He raised a hand to wave it in a flippant gesture. "You act as though you might stand some chance of defeating me. While I can assure you that is not, nor likely will ever be, the case, even if we were the same age and peers in any other sense, I have an alternative proposition for you."

His yellow eyes lowered to regard the grip on her wand before rising once more to find aquamarine orbs. "If it's a moving target you seek for practice, I can offer you one. If you master defeating it, your skill as a duelist will rise exponentially in record time. Your future opponents will likely give you little to no trouble at all as a result. But, as you might imagine, this is not just any target."

After a long moment, he tore his gaze away from hers to stare at the far wall where Dealla had been repeatedly striking out at the practice dummy.

"In order to face the target I'm referring to, though, you must first answer me this..." Still keeping his sight fixed on the dummy, he moved to whisper near her ear.

"Can you face what you're most afraid of?"

@Dealla Prince

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By SK

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Well said? That was all he had to say about this? Her insults had likely not hit their mark, misguided. After all, it was hard to hit someone's weak spots if all you knew of them was what they let you see.

Dee had been hoping for more of a reaction, had worked herself up into a rant and it had felt good. A way to get rid of some of the tension that had just been building without release as she approached her second duel, stretched like the strings of an instrument that had been pulled too taut. His lack of response to her insults left her unsatisfied, all that energy running into nothing, no collision.

Her eyes narrowed slightly at the proclamation that she couldn't take him, a twinge of annoyance replacing her anger. True, he appeared older than she was, taller. But height didn't matter in duelling, and knowing more spells didn't define the better duellist. He also didn't seem that much older than her, likely not a sixth or seventh year. Not peers in any sense, huh? Arrogant twat.

Raising the wand she was still holding, she stretched out her arm, aiming to set the tip of her wand directly onto his chest. Was hoping for a reaction, a step away maybe, some sense that he felt uncomfortable in a position that would leave him nearly unable to avoid, should she decide to cast. But no matter if he did or did not back away, she met his eyes again when he looked at her. "What, again only big words, but won't actually prove anything's behind them?" she replied at his suggestion of a different target for her to practise on, even while she tried to hide the curiosity rising up in her, the way she perked up at the promise of a challenge.

The mention of exponential growth made her scoff in disbelief. No matter how challenging an opponent, you didn't just magically double your abilities in the course of one practice duel. What was this, was he trying to recruit her to be his minion and set her on his enemies? There were probably a lot of those. "Seems fake," she commented, letting her hand sink and starting to turn away. "If you have nothing more than barks to offer, kindly leave me to my practice, Mr Chihuahua, and run back to your owner."

He didn't go, though, instead leaned in closer. The whisper raised the hair on her arms, made her want to back away this time. It wasn't easy to make her uncomfortable, but he managed. Not that she'd show it. "What I'm most afraid of?" she asked, quirking her eyebrows up. "Bit melodramatic, are we?"

But the question gave her a pause. No matter if he was just trying to scare her... impress her? Intrigue her, she supposed, get her to go along with whatever he was planning, the question captured her attention. Her instinct was to scoff and say yes. There weren't many things she was consciously afraid of, and most of those she would face down just out of spite, conquer with stubbornness and wits. But what she was most afraid of? She had never thought about it. Didn't know herself well enough to tell, likely. It probably wasn't anything as simple as flying a broom.

The intrigue was there.

"You ask strange questions, Mr Chihuahua," she said slowly, turning back around to face him. "But I'll humour you. If I said yes, what would you do?"

@Kit Paine

When Dealla pressed the tip of her wand straight up against his chest, the green-haired boy looked down at the weapon, then back up at his aggressor, his yellow gaze steady as a cat's, as if daring her. If she did do something to him, however, there went her chance of learning what he had in mind. The action might even cost her her spot on the duelling team and they both knew it. Would she still choose to attack him, however, even unarmed as he was? It was her choice. He trusted her not to make the stupid one.

"It's not that I have anything to prove, especially not to you," he told her with cool, galling arrogance. "Believe me or don't. Use your petty sobriquet as much as you like if it makes you feel better. As someone who looks the way I do, don't you think I've heard worse?"

He shrugged. "Perhaps you're right. Even with the aid of my suggestion, there may be no hope for you or your improvement. I just thought it might be fun to watch you try. See how far you get." Then a haughty, humorless smirk curved one corner of his mouth. "As far as being melodramatic, maybe a little. I'll tone it down, then, if it so displeases your delicate sensibilities."

Watching her countenance, he thought he could sense the intelligent interest surging through that keen eagle mind. Isaac allowed her time, staying silent as he simply continued to watch and wait. Eventually she spoke again, rewarding his patience with an affirmative, if hypothetical, answer.

"There may be hope for you yet, Miss Prince," he mused. "Whether or not you realize, most people aren't aware of their true worst fears. That's why when people meet a boggart, they are usually unprepared. But If I could bring one for you to practice on as you might a training dummy...don't you think your fortitude and confidence, at the very least, would manage to increase?"

He tilted his head to look at her sidelong. "After all, what nerves, fears, or worries that you might face in a duel could possibly bother you after you've conquered your own worst fears?"

@Dealla Prince

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By SK

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Her mouth tightened in annoyance at his bored arrogance, but it hardly seemed worth making a fuss over. He wouldn't react in any satisfying way anyway, apparently. "Then I won't believe you," Dee said, shrugging. "You haven't given me any reason to think you have any skill whatsoever beyond an extraordinary talent in being obnoxious." He didn't seem to mind the nickname she'd given him, and true, he probably made an easy target in that regard. But Dee only scrunched up her nose, dismissive. "Would you like me to insult your looks instead? That seems boring to me. Too obvious. Or if you would actually give me your name, after you waltzed in here already knowing mine, maybe I could insult that instead." Her patience with his games was running out. He could state what he wanted, or he could leave.

And yet he stayed evasive a while longer. More hints, more insults, more promises. It would be a lie to say she didn't bristle at the implications, the insults to her duelling capabilities, but if he'd seen her first duel, he'd probably be around for her second one, too. He could watch her and Peri stomp two members of his house into the ground, maybe that would get him off his high horse. Or at least she hoped it would go that way, but she didn't let herself think that far.

Her lips pressed together, she refused to rise at his jabs once more, but of course she couldn't manage to stay completely silent. "Just spit it out," she gritted out, then her body stilled when he finally did, her eyes widening. "You have a pet boggart?" she demanded, incredulous. "And what, you're just walking around letting it loose on people?" Boggarts were third year curriculum, she hadn't learned about how to handle them yet. Yet, if she was completely honest, she wasn't terribly worried about meeting one, more curious, in an abstract way - how bad could her worst fear really be? - but that this boy was keeping one around the castle when there were students who probably hadn't even heard of boggarts seemed incredibly irresponsible. Weren't the professors aware of this?

That curiosity was hard to tamp down, more so the more he spoke. What was her worst fear? Losing her next duel? Failing a class? Those seemed too mundane to her, although she'd probably be lucky if that was it. Those were things she had some amount of control over. If she could control it, she could face it.

However, there was still the feeling that she was being baited into this, being led around, and it made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. Dee was a spiteful creature at her core, and if she had the feeling she was being manipulated to follow someone else's plans, tugged about like a puppet, she'd immediately try to cut the strings. It had been the same way during that fight club in summer. Unsatisfied curiosity, as annoying as it would be, niggling at the back of her mind until the question was answered, was a price she was willing to pay. She'd just have to find a boggart elsewhere, later. In the end he'd think she owed him something, should she take him up on his offer.

So instead of agreeing, Dee crossed her arms, and attempted to keep her face clean of the urge to give in and find out. She drew her lips back into something that looked more snarl than smile, and made use of her ability to sneer down at people a head taller than her. "Now, doesn't that seem unfair? My opponents are going to have it tough, anyway. They should at least have some chance at winning, shouldn't they? So, thank you for your incredibly generous offer, but I think I'll have to decline."

@Kit Paine