Pulchre Destructa PV S. Alexander Finished

Ami couldn't stop the little giggles that spilled out of her as Scott rambled on, proving his point. His two brothers sounded wonderful, he must've loved them a lot. But three boys, just imagine all the chaos... really, at this point, Ami just felt bad for Mrs. Alexander.

"Charity is too a name!" Ami exclaimed, shooting him an offended look. Her eyes narrowed, eyebrows came together, and her bottom lip stuck out, as if she were both whining and giving him an evil eye at the same time. "It's an awful name, but it's still a name."

"I don't have siblings," she admitted with a small smile. "Guess my parents thought that I was too much already, even between the two of them. I've always wanted an older brother, though, if only because I can pin all the blame on him. Yeah, I'd make an awful younger sibling."

Ami laughed at Scott's proclamation that he was wonderful, and she nodded in agreement. "Of course you are! I mean, come on, you're brilliant." Quiet for a moment, Ami studied Scott's face, as if trying to imagine what his mom would look like.

She'd be a pretty woman, right? Of course, all mothers were pretty. Actually, Mrs. Alexander might look like her own mother, with pretty, blonde hair and a smile like the sun. Yeah, that sounded about right.

"I look like my dad, from my hair to my-" she caught herself, in complete and utter shock that she had almost said feet. No, she couldn't say that anymore. "From my hair to my freckles," Ami hastily corrected. "Same hair, same freckles, same eyes... my mom has blonde hair and blue eyes, your typical beauty, so I definitely know I didn't get much from her."

“I wish I looked more like my dad. Though I have to suppose that’s a boy/girl thing then.. Silas must look like his mother a lot, like me, because he’s got black hair and blue eyes- but Ben looks so much like dad it’s almost scary, even more now than before. That means curly brown hair and big hands.”

Scott chuckled and stretched the corners of his mouth into a grin distorting his face wonderfullly.

“And this,” he pointed to his mouth. “it’s not the prettiest thing you’ll see but it gets the job done.”

Whatever the job was he didn’t know himself, she’d have to guess. In a way, he supposed, he was steering the conversation away from what he’d picked up on to be a touch of self-consciousness on her side. Of course he could be sure.

“Your mother does sound pretty. Mine’s blonde too, you might’ve guessed, but I don’t think you should be. You look good with this,” He didn’t touch her hair, would never dare, but gestured to the red and sunny locks. “Even with it shorter, like now. You know I once had red hair? I can’t remember if it was Mia or Ben who was behind it, only that I cried and my mother struggled to make all these different potions to get it back to normal before cutting most of it off to my great agony. I was six, and I swear I’m less vain now.”

Ami giggled as Scott's mouth curled up into an abominable smile, and also instinctively, she reached out to touch his mouth, like she didn't even realize creating such a shape with your mouth was humanly possible. 

Withdrawing her hand, she laughed. "You need chapstick- or water." Her smile was light-hearted and teasing, though- not offensive, never offensive.

Oh boy, all Scott knew how to do was make her laugh. It was like once he started, he couldn't stop. The giggles spilled out of her as he recalled his red-hair endeavor. "I'm sure you're less vain- or, at least, you claim to be," Ami smiled, still shaking from laughter. 

"My mom dyes her hair all the time," she admitted, recalling some faint, distant memory filled with outrageous colors and strange haircuts. "But never her whole head- it's always streaks of bright colors. Like, for Christmas, she had red, and for her birthday, she got lavender." 

Tugging at her own hair, however, Ami's mouth twisted into a thinking face. "I don't know if I'll ever dye my hair though. I'd want it to grow out, first, obviously. And don't get me wrong, I love that I have red hair, but..." 

Giving Scott a conspiratorial look, she dropped her voice into a whisper, hissing, "Don't you think there are an insane amount of redheads at this school? Like, what is up with that?"

Scott looked her dead in the eye, and whispered "The Irish." Then laughed and shook his head.

"I don't know. But you're right, I guess. Maybe you should dye a streak of hair, some outrageous colour for me to recognise you by- it's dead difficult as it is. You do that and I'll get chapstick. I'll even get a non-flavoured translucent one to prove to you how not-vain I am."

Scott smacked his lips together twice, the way his mother would after applying lipstick.

"That'll show you."

Scott grinned again, not quite as stretched as before- but still looking genuine and childish.

"My mother never would. Dye her hair, I mean. It is something I can see my dad doing to mess with her, but barely that even. She's very proper, my mother. Beautiful- no doubt, but very sure to keep things in its place. She cuts my hair. She wants to cut Ben's, too, but he won't let her."

Scott blew a short strand of blond hair away from between his eyebrows.

"She's bound to go nuts when I return, what with the way it's growing. Perhaps I should light a fire of my own."

The words left his lips before he could do any more about it. His smile disappeared as he wished so honestly that it hadn't been to far, that she'd laugh and understand what he'd meant by it.

“Maybe I will, then,” Ami said in response to Scott’s suggestion to dye her hair, jutting her chin out as if that would solidify her statement. “If only to get you to start wearing chapstick, of some sort. Doesn’t have to be translucent, though- I highly recommend cherry, it gives your lips a nice sheen.”

Wait, what did he just say?

Mouth hanging open, Ami’s eyes widened at Scott’s careless slip. Did he really just- did he- what on earth? Judging by the expression on his face, he didn’t mean it- he instantly knew that he had gone a step too far.

Thomas used to do the same thing, all the time. Not with her hair, no, with something even more sensitive- her dad’s legs, or, lack there of. So, like any other time Thomas had screwed up, Ami let out a huge, over-the-top guffaw, the corners of her eyes crinkling like how they always did when she smiled. 

“Low blow, dude!” she cried, with a sort of half-smile on her face. A sad smile, a weary smile, a smile that said, Please don’t do that again.

“Maybe I will dye my hair, though,” Ami said, hastily changing the subject. After all, her mom did it all the time... she probably wouldn’t be against Ami doing it as well. “But once again, once my hair is longer.”

Scanning Scott’s hairline, Ami shrugged. “Personally, I think it looks fine. Your mom, however... probably won’t. Gosh, I hope she doesn’t give you one of those bowl cuts- that really would be horrifying.” 

She'd looked both shocked and hurt at first, and Scott was forever grateful for the parodic response she gave him in turn to ease his anxiety. He whispered "Sorry," under his breath, and tried not to look too horrified with himself as she went on to change the subject.



Scott smiled awkwardly and looked away. "Thankfully my mother would agree with you on that one. My dad doesn't, or maybe he's teasing her, but there are many pictures of Silas when he was little in which his head looks like a mushroom. I don't want that."

Scott touched his hair self-consciously, and met her eyes again.

"But it means his mother probably cut his hair, too, like mine does. I've only ever seen her in pictures, as well."

Jet black hair cut straight at the shoulders, that's really all he remembered from that. Blue eyes, like Silas', and maybe just a little bit of Ben's chin. Scott sometimes wonders what she was like, his brothers never talk of her.

"My mother cuts his hair now, whenever he's home. Ben stopped letting her years ago, he's growing it out every year and then cuts it off himself in frustration what with it getting everywhere." He's really bad at it. He looks like a triangle. "I don't know if you've seen him around the castle, but if you have, he's the one you immediately think should let his mother cut his hair."

Ah, so the awkwardness had faded away, and things were alright, now. That was good, that was good, the tension had disappeared and the atmosphere of the room was now back to normal- no longer suffocating, forcing words to stick to throats.

Crinkling her nose, like she always did when she was thinking, Ami tried to bring up a vague image of the boy who was Scott's brother- but no, nothing came to mind, which was quite a shame. She usually had a pretty good memory when it came to faces, so she just assumed that she simply hadn't linked the two boys together as siblings.

How odd that the Scott and his siblings looked so different. To the best of her knowledge, her dad looked exactly like his other two brothers- shocking red hair, bright freckles, and clear, defined lips. It was a Procoppio thing, supposedly- her grandfather, even with his greying hair, still managed to retain the same traits. It was fascinating, really.

"I'll have to keep an eye for him," Ami said, trying to conjure an image of Ben in her mind.  She came up with absolutely nothing, however, only a vague image of messy, long hair. "He sounds really nice, though- especially if he's anything like you."

Standing up once more, this time with confidence, Ami pointed at the door of the Hospital Wing. "Can we? Please? Just for a little bit... I'm already sick of this place, and I'm been conscious for what, half an hour? Forty-five minutes? I need a reprieve. You're not going to let me go alone, right, Mr. Gentleman?"

"I shouldn't let you go at all.." Scott said quietly, but with a funny glimt in his eye. The door was tempting him, too. Places like these drive everyone a little crazy, apparently. They start imagining murals and pretending like it's a park, no good no good.

"But as I figure you'll go anyway, I might as well be there for you to lean on. The stone floor continues throughout the castle, you know that. Might not want to fall flat there, either."

Scott stood up after her, and held out his hand. The short rest seemed to have done good for her, because she stood with significantly more strength.

"You think we'll get in trouble with the nurse? I don't know what she's like, but she didn't seem too bad.."

Scott took a couple of steps forward with her by his side, and felt more happy than ever that the mood was back to normal. Not only was it a quick recovery after his verbal mishap, it had also returned to a feeling more similar to that of the one they had shared before she even ended up in this place. Maybe even better now, when he felt he knew her more.

"Where do you want to go? Is there a place you've dreamt of during this imprisonment of yours?"

"The nurse will never have to know," Ami said confidently, taking Scott's hand once more as the two made their way to the doors. Instead of her weak shuffling from before, Ami's steps became much more confident- she clearly felt much, much better after the short break.

Clearly, she was a Hufflepuff on a mission- a mission to conquer the world.

Or, for the time being, the strolling of the corridors. "Can we go outside? I really want to go outside." Stop, pause, and reevaluate, okay, Ami? Outside? Really? "Well, okay, that's a little ambitious." Thinking through the floor plan of Hogwarts in her head, Ami tried to remember what other places were on the same floor as the Hospital Wing.

Uh... "Do you want to go to the Trophy Room? It's not too far from here, I don't think," Ami mused, pushing the door open with her shoulder, pulling Scott through along with her. She knew the Charms classroom was also on the same floor, but as her grades weren't looking the brightest at the moment, she didn't exactly want to remind Professor Henley of her shining, nearly-failing face at the moment.

Stepping out into the corridor, the stone floor suddenly seemed all too real. With a big gulp, Ami glanced at Scott with a nervous smile, before forging onward. There was no turning back now- they were out the door already, and she was going to have to follow through.

Her legs must have been lot steadier than they were before, because the two reached the door in much less time than Scott had imagined. He liked to think that her getting better had something to do with his being there, which he is allowed to do because it's not bragging if it's not spoken aloud.

She didn't even need to lean on him now, but still she held his hand.

It was good, Scott thought with a nod to himself, might as well.

"We could go outside, if that's what you want." He suggested, but knew she was right in changing her mind. Even though he felt sorry she wouldn't know what a lovely day it was, he also wasn't going to tell her. Not even Scott is so parodically dandy that he'll chat about the weather with a friend. And besides, it might have made her sad. It would make him sad, at least, to not be able to go outside when he knew the sun was shining for once.

"But you're right, I think. I've barely been to the trophy room, truth be told.. You figure we'll find a bunch of names we recognise?

The door was already semi-open from the nurse's very brief visit before, and Ami gave Scott a look of the slightest hesitation before proceeding forwards. Scott would have liked to check wether the coast was clear first, but she was marching with him behind by the hand. He wondered if it was determination or fear of the nurse that kept her walking at that pace, but figured her legs would only take so much of it before she'd have to rest anyway.

"Just you be careful. I don't want to end up telling the nurse that the reason you're lying passed out in the trophy room is because I couldn't shut my mouth up about prestigious promenades."