I Heard It Trough the Portrait Closed

When Jack's expression shifted at Gerald's confession, the latter failed to recognize the redhead's new smile as genuine and braced himself for what felt like the tenth round of mockeries. He was no longer interested in putting up with Burnett's insufferable teasing, though, and would not be giving in to what he interpreted had been poor attempts at blackmailing. If Jack decided to turn him in to their Head of House, then so be it: all things considered, Gerald was growing convinced he'd be able to defend himself pretty well before Professor Jensen. It was his word against that of a demonstrably ill-willed nut case and a poorly painted man. Yes, the blonde was quite confident he'd come out successful of that confrontation.

Then, Jack Burnett spoke and the taller Slytherin was left at a loss once again. Gerald stood motionless as the other boy explained, cheeks flushing an increasingly deeper shade of red with every perfectly plausible detail that tied the story together. Not only did Jack show no intention whatsoever to tell on him, but he had selflessly and single-handedly fixed a mess which was not of his making. If that didn't qualify for year's best plot-twist, hardly anything did.

Gerald received Jack's pat with as little enthusiasm as was humanly possible, keeping stiff as a board under the touch of his hand. He was mortified, both by the last fifteen minutes of interaction and the very fact that he was hopeless at hiding his own embarrassment. He certainly regretted his previous ruthlessness against Burnett, now; had Jack revealed his kinder side to him earlier on, he would have used a nicer tone from the start. Fretting over past mistakes was not a wise choice for the spending of one's time, though. As far as Gerald was concerned, apologizing, rather than setting consciences at ease, would only make him look like bigger of a fool. Jack had not been what you'd call a gentleman for most of the conversation, either; had not done much to deserve the blonde's compassion up until he'd admitted to have re-transfigured the rat.

Gerald had heard the name 'princess' be directed his way before and, in what he liked to think was fair return, Jack would not be hearing the word 'sorry', now.

Arrogance and lack of apologies aside, the boy felt his lips crook slightly at Burnett's compliments. His reflections on lying, truth twisting and a necessity of order sounded like the findings of a wise old mystic man; so convincingly worded they left little room for objections and Gerald had no choice but to nod at them.

Tilting his head forward, he scratched the back of his neck in an attempt to avert eye contact if only for a second. Once he felt his face had regained normal temperature, he carried on talking.

"I am actually impressed you managed to fix the rat. It was not looking too good when I last saw it." he said. It had looked absolutely awful. "I'm sure a certain pet owner is going to be very pleased. And— well, I must say, Burnett, that I am, too. Thank you. Honestly."

Like apologies, sincere thank you's didn't easily roll out of Gerald's tongue. Then again, ending the day with one less problem to worry about was probably a better outcome than swearing an oath on mutual hatred, even if it meant going through the painful suffering of saying 'thanks'.

@Jack Burnett

When Gerald's complexion began to take on a distinctly ruddy tinge, Jack's amusement increased right along with it. He beamed as if he was being told the favorite part of his that he had been anticipating in a story, but couldn't have been sure up until then that it really would have come to pass.

As few others seemed to understand, the redhead much preferred to build up a certain degree of hostility toward his person before revealing what supposed kindness he could be capable of. With the reputation he strove to maintain, being thought as nice or selfless wouldn't have been beneficial to him at all; particularly when Jack himself believed such traits to be attributed to him only by those who didn't understand him as well as he might have liked.

Thus, he much preferred Gerald's stiffness and unease toward him as opposed to compassion, apologies, or anything else his peer might have considered granting him in lieu of his own, rather condescending behavior. This fact, of course, was precisely why Jack had demonstrated said behavior in the first place. He would have been glad to know it had served to keep his housemate from thinking that much better of him once the truth behind the matter of the transfigured teacup-rat had been cleared up.

"No reason to be impressed," Jack assured Gerald with a dismissive wave of his hand. "It wasn't looking too good when I last saw it, either. I can only hope it appeared similarly horrible before it'd experienced life as part-teacup, though, because its owner didn't seem to say anything about the state it was returned to him in, either. Then again, maybe he was just too grateful to have the creature back at all to complain."

He shrugged with a playful smile, attempting to conceal his own minor uneasiness at being so genuinely and honestly thanked. He might have protested in some other way shape or form if he'd thought Gerald planned to make a habit of it, but as the blonde boy seemed just as reluctant to dole out such sincere thanks as Jack was, the Welsh boy let it go.

"Don't mention it," he encouraged with a snarky smirk, suggesting that he meant his request literally as well as figuratively. "But maybe you should be thanking someone else instead of me. A certain portrait, if you catch my drift."

Chuckling, Jack turned to head back toward the common room. "Anyway, Fawkes, if that's all, I hope you'll excuse me. I do hope, however, that I'll be seeing you around. And, of course, that you still...how did you put it?...plan to 'make my life just as complicated'." He snickered, glancing back over his shoulder.

"I must say...I definitely look forward to seeing you 'go all the way' when you set your mind on something. Minus the lying next time, naturally."

@Gerald Fawkes