I Need My Notes Back, Thanks PV Finished

The letter had found him in a bit of a mood. Earlier that day he had been the target of yet another of those random pranks that had been stalking him for the longest time. Whoever was behind them was apparently very clever, had zero regard for time and place, and had a level of patience and persistence to rival a stone wall in a staring contest. It was horrible. He could never seem to figure out where a particular spell was being cast from much less who was responsible for casting it, and it was all he could do to not lose his mind. So, when the letter came to him that same day just moments after he had found himself victimized, a part of his mind, the darker recesses that should never be traversed, saw a spark bringing it back to life.

Reading the letter, he considered the possibility that the sender could actually be the source of all his misery. Ami Procoppio was a name he didn’t know, and he couldn’t guess at why they would want to risk his wrath should he discover their identity. A no-name would never do something like that unless contracted, and even then, they wouldn’t so openly compromise themselves by sending a signed letter. No. This person in the letter was an innocent, one that made a claim that Dorian had lazily investigated after scanning through the contents of the parchment. It had taken roughly two minutes to locate the text that he now noticed by the name belonged to the sender of the letter. "For the love of…" He haphazardly tossed the thing onto his bed, not even noticing the fact that it slid off and fell to the ground beyond, after which he stripped down to his underwear and jumped heavily into the bed, where he fell immediately asleep.

When he later woke it was 8:17, seventeen minutes past the time that the person had asked him to meet them. Even knowing this, he slowly and very lazily pandiculated as he sat up in the bed, stayed there for another minute blankly staring into space before rolling off the bed and rummaging through his clothes for something casual to wear for his little ‘meeting’. When he got finished going through all the motions it was 8:30, way beyond the outlined time. He leaned over the bed and retrieved the book then left the boy’s dormitory, passed through the common room after making sure no one was around to see him slipping out, then made his way to the place where the person had asked to meet.

9:06 found him ambling down the hallways with the book tucked under his arm and his thoughts pondering ways in which he could go about entrapping his stalker. Most of the options he considered involved some form of major injury to the person and would probably be too much for his mother to simply throw monies at to make it disappear. But the less extreme plans found the person getting off too easy with no more than a slap on the wrist. He wanted retribution on an epic scale. He would have to think on this more later. For now, he noticed the lone figure sitting in the distance with their head down and their back turned to his approach. He became unreasonably upset at this point for the hassle he had been put through to bring a book to some stranger he did not know.

Dorian silently made his way closer and stood behind her, peering down at the book that she had in hand. He could clearly see that it was written in Chinese, a language he was still only in the novice stage of learning. He understood a few words here and there and from this very limited grasp of the text he concluded that the book might be on the more boring side. "Ahehemehmenhehem!" It had to be the most obnoxious clearing of one’s throat that the girl had and would probably ever hear in her life. It was loud, exaggerated, and completely unnecessary, but the sound was made with the intention of shocking her out of her departure into the book that she held. Hands, and ultimately the book, behind his back in a pose that made him look like someone militant standing at ease, he spoke. "I hope you know what time of night it is." His first words to the girl and they were in accusation for dragging him out at these hours of the night to return a book. Dorian eyed her, trying to remember seeing her in his Charms class, and when he vaguely recalled someone matching her description he shook his head.

A yawn escaped his mouth as he stood there, and he had failed to cover his mouth. If by this point the girl was standing she would catch a large whiff of his stale, just woken and unbrushed breath, yet he would register no remorse or apology on his face. "Fifty galleons" he said coolly. He allowed his words to sink in for a very short moment before he repeated. "Fifty galleons for the struggle you put me through searching for the book and having to bring it to you after reading that letter you sent. And I think you might have forgotten to write ’go fetch’ before you sent it." Dorian rolled his eyes at that last statement, intending it to sound as harsh as it probably did. She had basically told him to fetch the book and bring it to her like a good little dog, or at least, this was how he saw the entire state of events unfold.

"Ahehemehmenhehem! I hope you know what time of night it is."

Ami crinkled her nose in confusion, and looking up from her book, she noticed that she was the only one left in the Small Hall. Sweet God, what time was it? Glancing down at her watch, she sighed in exasperation. 9:08? 9:08? She'd met snails who were more punctual than this child. And at the second half of his statement, a few words came to mind that could easily get her kicked out of this school in a heartbeat, but she swallowed them down like the good girl she was. Girls who mouthed off got shot by cops. Did she remember nothing of Chicago? Come on... think... positive. Maybe he had a rough day? Yes, that's it. She opened her mouth to say something, but then the boy continued.

"Fifty galleons for the struggle you put me through searching for the book and having to bring it to you after reading that letter you sent. And I think you might have forgotten to write ’go fetch’ before you sent it."

Blinking slowly, Ami closed her mouth and raised her eyebrow. "Pardon?" she asked. In her head, her two different personas were already springing to life- Safety Dance Ami and Anxiety Ami. Safety Dance Ami was telling this boy off, pacing back and forth and using every curse word imaginable. Anxiety Ami would just take the notebook and leave. Real-Life Ami chose to do neither, and instead, she rolled her eyes. Both Internal Amis stared at her in shock, and Anxiety Ami facepalmed her way into a wall. "Alright, Mr. Gray." There was no way she was going to let this... this child treat her like this. Steeling her nerves and burying her anxiety beneath a pool of concrete, she stepped forward, pleased to see she was a good two, three inches taller than him. "Give me my notebook. I'll think of a... a suitable payment for you."

The display of confusion had Dorian rolling his eyes yet again, wondering if she was one of those that he would have to explain the same thing to at least five times before she got it. Hoping against it, he watched the emotions flit across her face and remained silent, waiting for her to comply quickly so he could get back to sleep. When she addressed him by name, formal and rigid and so much like an adult, a nerve ticked somewhere inside him, and his bored expression became deadpan. So unfazed was he by her height that he simply maintained the look and peered up into her eyes, not so much as taking a step back to put some space between them.

Once she had said her fill Dorian mulled it over once, twice, a third time, but could locate no point in her statement that guaranteed payment. Otherwise, he wasn't running a charity and most certainly didn't trust random strangers enough to just take their word for it. Craning his head to the side subtly and sighing almost imperceptibly, he gazed at her in silence for one uncomfortable moment before he said a word. "I'm not running a courier service, nor am I in the business of doing charitable deeds. Have you ever heard of the term quid pro quo? It simply means I expect something in return for all the trouble you put me through coming here." Dorian let that sink in before finally taking that overdue step back in preparation to leave.

"I almost fell down a flight of stairs, almost got caught by one of those Prefects and a few professors that hate me, almost" he paused, finding another lie that suited him. "Almost stepped on a crack and caused myself a thousand years bad luck. And I'm losing precious sleep!" he intoned sharply. "And all for what? Some girl who doesn't understand the language of business. I'm leaving. Send me another one of those letter thingies when you finally decide to be serious." With that he turned around, book hugged tightly to his chest, and started walking away, still very much aware of the girl's presence behind him.

Ami stared at Dorian in disgust while he kept on prattling on and on and on. Under her breath, in response to his ‘quid pro quo’ question, she mumbled, “Bonum factum, much?”, but she doubted that he heard her. Just as well, because immediately after his rant, he turned to leave. Ami impulsively stepped forward to follow, expecting him to give her her notebook back. When it was clear that he wasn’t going to, and probably wasn’t planning on doing so in the immediate future, she inexplicably lost her temper. This- this- this child was an hour late, rude, and expected payment? Haha, no. Not in a million years.

But then, to top it all off, before she could even think about what she was about to do, before she could stop herself, she shoved Dorian from behind- hard. Hard enough to send him stumbling across the floor. “You want to talk about serious?” Ami hissed, grabbing Dorian’s hand and yanking him upright. “Give me my notebook back. And luckily for you, you don’t have to make a choice, because I’m not asking.”

Because it was after school hours, Ami was wearing casual clothing- a loose cardigan, black camisole, and jeans, but a sheath on her belt a) her wand (which she didn’t really know how to use) and b) a knife (which she very much knew how to use). Fingering the hilt of it, she glared at Dorian, in the back of her mind praying that he would give her the notebook back.

Dorian came this close to faceplanting and sporting a bloody nose. How dare she? Who did this girl think she was to put her hands on him? He stumbled forward with his hands flailing out at the sides in reaction, attempting to balance and right himself. He didn't have long to struggle as he felt the hand grab his wrist and pull him forcefully upright. A storm of unbridled rage ran rampant through every fiber of his being, his eyes a clear window through which the girl would see how close she was coming to making an enemy of him.

He wrenched his hand from her grip and spat venom at her with his words. "Touch me again and I'll make you regret it!" Book still hugged closely, Dorian considered the possibility, weighing the pros and cons to such a provocation. He couldn't very well let her physical assault on his person slide; he would never be able to sleep at nights when the memories came to haunt him. Dorian wasted no more time thinking about it, deciding on and staying his course of action. Without hesitation, he forced the book and open to a random page, held it firmly and dragged with decisive force. He crumpled the newly ripped page into a ball and tossed it at the tall girl, aiming to hit her in the face with it.

The sound the page had made as it was torn from the book left him feeling satisfied somehow, though he felt bad for ruining the thing. He was a lover of books and hated to see them damaged or otherwise mistreated, but this girl, Ami, had invoked his wrath and he would see justice done. "That's for pushing me from behind you coward. Now I'll say it again. Fifty galleons for the book," at which he paused and looked at the ruined book that he held, reevaluating its worth. "Thirty and an apology and it's yours. Otherwise, I bid you goodnight!" Again he turned to leave, his steps muffled and precise.

This time, should the girl feel the urge to make a repeat of her earlier tactic, she would not find him to be easy prey. Dorian was listening for the slightest sound and would not hesitate to employ his years of Muggle self-defense training. He had no qualms about hitting a girl, being a firm believer in the equality that the feminists fought for and won. They couldn't pick and choose to entertain the notion when they felt it suited them. If Ami could hit him, which she had by being the first to incite a violent approach, then Dorian would respond in kind.

Ami flinched as Dorian tore out a page from her notebook- a quick glance confirmed that it was indeed the page of notes she actually needed. A number of curse words ran through her head, none of them appropriate. She ran through the contents of her notebook in her head (Charms, Charms, Charms, and doodles), and realizing it was entirely useless now that the page she needed was destroyed. She barely flinched when the wad of paper was thrown at her, she only stepped backward and let it fall at her feet. She picked up the ruined paper, tucking it into her pocket for later.

Ami visibly froze at the mention of coward, and a hundred, no, a thousand images flashed through her head. The cat. The street. The night, the scream, the hand grasping the railing... she gasped, stumbling backward and grasping the table behind her. She blinked and started listening again to hear Dorian say angrily, "I bid you goodnight!"

Mentally, Ami had a quick discussion with herself (Notebook? No notebook? Notes valuable for finals?) and decided that yes, she really did need her notebook. "Wait," Ami said desperately, stepping forward and grabbing Dorian's wrist before he could leave. "Please. I need that. What do you want?" Frantic, she flashed back to his words. Was it 50? No, 30 and an apology, that's right. Patting her pockets, she found she had no money on her except American cash. Why did she still even have that, anyway? "I'm sorry," Ami said slowly, making sure he was listening. "I apologize for shoving you whilst your back was turned, and for drawing you out at an inconvenient time of night. I don't have money on me at the moment, is there anything else you need?"

He had no intention of stopping short of her explicitly telling him she would pay up, but again she had felt the need to touch him. Dorian's eyes zoned in on the offending hand, willing it to burn. He knew with being a wizard and having such thoughts he might accidentally cause her hand to catch fire, but it seemed the school must have some magical wards in place to keep him from performing wild, wandless magic or he was certain her hand would already be alight with the fury he channeled her way. He turned his body sideways to glance at her through the corners of his eyes, not saying a word. Having said all he needed to say, he didn't feel the need to keep repeating.

It seemed she caught the hint because just then she started to pat her pockets, most likely feeling around for the bit of spare change Dorian had demanded for his services. When it appeared she didn't have what he wanted, his poker face soured into a scowl and he was about to walk away again. The only thing that stopped him was her words of apology. He kept his back turned to her and listened as she went on to explain how sorry she was for pushing him and for summoning him like some common delivery boy. Had that been so hard? He already accepted the apology, though he didn't say so out loud, turning yet again to face her with the book still held tightly.

"It's Ami, right? Here's the deal. Since you're obviously broke how about we forego payment of monetary value and you promise me a favor instead?" His smile returned but slightly and the mischievous twinkle in his eyes had nothing good to say. What he wanted would remain a mystery for now if she accepted, and if she didn't then he would shrug lightly and continue on his way for the final time. Either he didn't notice or didn't care about the pleading tone of her voice and the look she was giving him that would make a kinder soul consider how far this had gone. This was Dorian, however, and he would have his way, consequences be damned.

If a boy- or man- ever does anything you don't like, Daphne de Luce had famously said in The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, kick him in the Cassanovas and run like hell. Or, something along those lines, carrying the general meaning. And unlike Flavia de Luce, or de Luce minor, Ami knew precisely where... where the... ahem, Cassanovas were. Dorian's last words were enough- he didn't even know her name as a solid fact, he hadn't given her the notebook back, and, well, favors? Yeah, Ami knew enough not to trust those types of promises. She wasn't that stupid.

"Mr. Gray," she said, trying not to reach for her knife. "I'd love it if I could have my notebook back. Please." It didn't hurt her dignity or ego to throw the extra pleasantry in, it only wasted time and breath. "I won't ask any more of you, Mr. Gray. I just want my notebook back." Why was she even wasting her breath? She had the page she needed, why didn't she just leave? Well, maybe it was because this child thought he could get away with this. She eyed the notebook in his hands, wondering if she could snatch it from him and run. Maybe break a kneecap while she was at it.

The thought never occurred to him that he might be taking this just a bit too far. The notebook was hers after all, and he had no claim to the thing. All he was doing at this point was being a pest and making things unnecessarily difficult on both of them. She wanted her book back that he had taken by accident from their shared Charms class, and he wanted to go back to his dorm and sleep. Why he had even bothered going so far as to ask for payment for returning the thing was still lost on him, but as things stood it was far too late for him to even consider backing down.

Again she begged him to return the notebook to her, and again he gave it some false contemplation, making a gesture as if thinking. Only one thought seemed to come to him at the moment and he made to address it. "Why do you keep calling me Mr. Gray? That's my dad. If you don't know my given name and would like to I could tell you. It would make things easier than always having to call me Mr. every second Ami" he said with as little regard as possible. He threw her given name at her to let her know that he knew it and had no misgivings about using it.

In truth, his ennui arising from the repetitive state of the entire conversation had him tripping all over himself mentally to leave. With a heavy sigh and a finality in his tone, he let her know exactly what he thought. "Look... I can see you're beneath granting a simple request in return for me being so kind as to bring your book all the way here to you. Clearly, I'm wasting my time and energy here with you. So uhh... Bye?" Planning to say or do no more, he turned for the last time to leave and started walking at a moderate pace in the direction from which he had come. When she finally decided to stop playing around then he could be contacted by the same means that she had used earlier. For now, there was a bed with his name on it waiting for him back in the boy's dorm.