Forget Friendly Faces PV Phaedra S. Finished

Max watched Phaedra seem to have an internal war about how to answer, and he realized that maybe he shouldn't have asked in front of everyone. No, scratch that - he definitely shouldn't have asked because, regardless of her views, in front of others she had a certain image to uphold. All that training to be tactful in polite society had basically gone out the window, and it didn't matter that he was only eleven. He was an idiot.

When she did finally answer, he had to admit that he was impressed. She'd said that in front of everyone, no doubt gaining a few enemies - but probably a few friends as well. Out of the two of them, she'd probably make a better Gryffindor with that kind of courage. He rested his face in his palm as he listened to her, an absentminded smile on his face as he astutely ignored everyone else. He wasn't sure if the whole thing was her or her parents talking, but she'd nailed the way pure-bloods spoke about the Dark Lord.

It wasn't overly surprising to hear that her family had worked with Voldemort. Yet he was impressed, taken in when she lowered her voice and leaning forward to catch the words better. It took a certain kind of wizard to fight alongside the Dark Lord in battle, so no doubt her family was more powerful even than he'd first assumed. This could be the start of a great alliance if he played his cards right.

After she leaned back and then went to check the potions, he nodded thoughtfully in agreement with her last statement. One of his great-great uncles or some such was apparently one of the first Death Eaters, though that could just be people bragging. He did know that his Uncle Ivor had been a Death Eater for sure, and he was probably going to find out a lot more about that since he was being shipped to Ivor's house for the summer for 'training.'

"His magical ability was legendary," Max agreed with a smirk, not bothering to lower his voice. "I don't know if there will ever be another wizard as great. I truly do admire him for that, and my family still follows his ideals today." Well, it was pretty much common knowledge. That's what Avery's were known for, and there was no point in concealing it. As for what he thought... There were two answers. What he really thought, deep down, and what his family had told him to say. The safest route would definitely be the rehearsed.

"I have no doubt in my mind that if Voldemort was still alive, I would've served him, like my family before me." That was probably the truth. "And what he thought about pure-bloods was correct; we are superior. The only thing that bothered me was the way he killed everyone. If you kill everyone who's lower than you, who's left to rule over?" That question... wasn't part of the script. It had just sort of slipped out, something he had secretly wondered.

He laughed like it was a joke, playing it off by shaking his head. "I'm kidding. You're right. He was doing what needs to be done." He turned to observe the potion again, the back of his neck prickling. He hoped she wouldn't tell her parents he'd said that and that it would somehow get back to his parents. He may have just totally messed up his chances of an alliance with that. He was off his game today.

"I have no doubt in my mind that if Voldemort was still alive, I would've served him, like my family before me."

"That's really brave of you to say," Phaedra said, her eyes lighting up a little. Of course he would've served Lord Voldemort, he was an Avery, and if his family was anything like hers that meant they both had high expectations to follow in their parents' footsteps. Phaedra knew she and her sister both would've been expected to serve as well. She didn't know whether to be excited about the idea of serving some evil old wizard or not, but if it were to please her mum and dad then she figured she would have done it without hesitation.

"The only thing that bothered me was the way he killed everyone. If you kill everyone who's lower than you, who's left to rule over?"

She raised a brow. Oh. Well that came out of nowhere. It would be a lie if Phaedra told him she had ever thought the same - she was never allowed to question whatever her parents enforced on her. Of course she knew killing wasn't right, but it was what Max had said about the ruling afterward that made her pause to think.

Maybe killing everyone beneath them was the entire point. If that happened then there would be no need for any ruler in the end, because magic would be all that remained and everyone would be equals in their capability. If muggles were all dead, wizard kind would no longer have to hide themselves and live in secret, or be forced to make ridiculous accommodations to ensure their own safety from superstitious and violent muggles. The powerful would no longer resort to cowering under the weak.

That was her flawed explanation to the question, initially at least, until she had two crucial realizations - the first being that not even all pure-bloods agreed with each other. She knew this from experience. Even if a pure-blood society was achieved, that didn't mean there wouldn't be any infighting or betrayals. Someone would be bound to take a side or engage in treachery, just like her father did. Secondly, if the stories her father told her about Voldemort were true, he would never have given up his power under any circumstances. Even if all mudbloods were rid of, he'd just turn against his followers and find a different reason to kill them over.

She slightly pursed her lips together, shamefully looking down to play with the hem of her skirt. She wanted to answer Max with something her parents would've approved of, but he had genuinely made more sense and gave her a different outlook. Phaedra raised her head to tell him 'I've never thought of that before', but by then he had already moved on, contradicting himself a few seconds later with a half-assed chuckle.

"I'm kidding. You're right. He was doing what needs to be done."

She watched, stunned, as Max suddenly turned back to his cauldron, avoiding eye contact as if he were ashamed of what he had just said. The Ravenclaw sat up straighter at this, perplexed at his unexpected change of behavior. She tilted her head, and her eyes narrowed as she studied everything about him - from the side profile of his face to his body language. Particularly, she followed his odd, focused gaze over to the cauldron in front of him, which only further confirmed her suspicions; the boy was uncomfortable. She would have missed it had she not been so observant. What a pathetic attempt at lying - he was not kidding around, and she knew it. Was that what she looked like trying to lie earlier? Phaedra closed one shaky hand into a tight fist at the thought. If so, she would have to be more careful.

There was a long pause before she replied to the boy. "Well... I'm glad you agree, Max," she muttered to him, choosing to gloss over rather than question him on what was really going through his mind. Her tone was skeptical, and she also turned away back towards her cauldron, her foot starting to tap impatiently on the floor. If he insisted that he agreed then that was that, and Phaedra wouldn't say another word about it. She didn't want to be inappropriate - they had only just met, and the boy's family was powerful, maybe even more so than hers. He was exactly the type of person her parents would want her to befriend, not offend. Not to mention, it would be hypocritical to question the Avery boy on his loyalties, especially after her own family's complicated history.

Enough about Voldemort. Phaedra was sick of the topic already, especially now with the atmosphere all awkward around Max. When her letter for Hogwarts arrived months ago, she was ecstatic, and thought it would be a chance to get away from her home environment. However, the topic of Death Eaters and Voldemort and her horrible family just seemed follow her around even here, like a storm cloud. It made her feel guilty, but sometimes she couldn't help but hate being a Stavrou. She wanted to ask if Max ever felt that way, if the negativity from his name ever got to him, but decided against it. It was too personal, too soon, and he'd probably just lie again anyway.

As their cauldron continued to heat, the liquid inside began to change color. Phaedra glanced over to her potion, and then Max's, and then leaned over to flip open and glance at her textbook again. "Anyway, both of our potions look ready for the second part," she said, standing to get ready to brew again.

"So. What do you like to do for fun? Any hobbies or school activities?" She asked him after clearing her throat loudly, an attempt at trying to bring back light into the conversation. She took hold of the two measures of Standard Ingredient and the four mistletoe berries sitting inside of the mortar. With her pestle, she began to grind the two into a 'medium-fine' powder. "I like to write, and I'm learning to play the bouzouki. I'd offer to play for you one day, but, I imagine you'd rather keep your ear drums intact," she finished with a laugh, her self-deprecating joke bringing some redness to her face.

It wasn't hard to figure out during the long pause that stretched between them that Phaedra knew he was lying. He should've just kept his mouth shut, but he knew a few pure-bloods who questioned stuff - especially after Voldemort had fallen. And the guy had supposedly been a Mudblood himself, so was he really the best person to look up to? A power-hungry tyrant who wanted to kill his own kind didn't seem like the kind of guy who'd stop if his goals were achieved. Though Max would've served him just the same; power was power, regardless of how crazy the wielder was.

He almost missed the potion changing colour in his worry that he'd messed up this meeting, so it was relief when Phaedra spoke about it first and then didn't completely shut down like he was a whackjob for questioning the Dark Lord. There was still no way to tell if she'd owl her parents about it or not, but he'd done as much as he could to keep things smooth. Hopefully she wouldn't; from what he'd heard, her family would be interesting to meet and have a dinner party with. They'd certainly be able to swap stories about the war, at the very least.

Startling out of his thoughts when Phaedra stood, he nodded and got up to gather his own ingredients so they could finish this up. The soft clinks and crushing sounds from the mortar were calming, and at Phaedra's next question he finally allowed himself to fully relax. Either she wasn't angry with him or she was very, very, very good at manipulation. Which was possible, but perhaps somewhere deep down he still wanted to believe that some people were inherently good and that the entire world wasn't built on lies.

"The bouzouki?" he asked in delight, forgetting to answer her question for a moment. "I don't care how bad you are, I need to see it in action. I've heard it's beautiful but I've never actually seen one beyond pictures before. Go ahead and break my eardrums." Instruments were always interesting; they usually had a ton of history attached to how they'd come to be in one country and most of them were aesthetically pleasing. Plus, it would be a chance for him to get to know the Stavrou's daughter better outside of just class time. He resisted the urge to hum as he carefully added two measures of the mush in his mortar into the potion and started to stir.

"Hm... I can play the piano but it's more of a chore than a hobby - us pure-blood kids have to know at least one instrument, didn't you know?" He let out a low laugh, wondering if that's why Phaedra knew the bouzouki. But it was such a cool instrument that he wouldn't be surprised if it was a choice either; someone sitting in the corner playing it at a dinner party would look graceful. You couldn't exactly drag a piano up to the table and start banging on keys in the middle of dinner.

As for school stuff... He wondered if bullying counted as a school activity, because if it did then he'd be the head of the club, according to everyone. Even if he didn't really consider any of it bullying, and considered it all more... opening people's eyes to the truth. He might end up writing in the Gryffindor paper but that would be a bit from now. So really, all he had left was...

"I like reading. Or rather, learning. People have spent hundreds of thousands of years collecting knowledge, and you'll never be able to learn it all with how short life is. But learning even a piece of what's out there is really cool." He shrugged as he finished stirring and waved his wand. The potion was perfect - and he was certain Phaedra's would be too, since they'd done everything together. Hopefully he would get her as a potion's partner in the future. "Fiction is awesome too; you never know what'll come out of people's minds. What do you like to write? I'd love to read whatever it is... You can really see someone through their writing. If it's not too personal, of course."

She laughed at his comment about purebloods and instruments. That line was probably the most relatable thing she had heard in their entire conversation. Phaedra grew up around piano players - her sister and mother the most notable - and although she could play the percussion instrument too, she had wanted something a little more unique than the all-too-common piano and violin, and most importantly, something that could tie her back to her roots in Greece. There was no better option than the bouzouki, and she agreed with Max that the stringed instrument was truly beautiful, both in its sound and appearance. Her Aunt Talia was the one to suggest she learn it in the first place, and said metamorphmagus was even responsible for Phaedra receiving it as a gift on that special birthday one year ago. Unlike Max, she didn't find it to be a chore at all and was quite dedicated to learning the moment it was unwrapped and placed into her lap.

Phaedra finished grinding up the ingredients with her mortar and pestle and lifted her head to watch Max as he talked about things he liked doing in return. Apparently, he enjoyed learning and history - not a surprise, considering how he was able to determine what family she belonged to earlier simply by hearing her first name and taking in her dark features. Phaedra thought the boy could have easily been put into Ravenclaw with knowledge like that. Sometimes, the Sorting Hat just didn't make any sense - what a wasted potential.

With her upbringing, Phaedra too had read her fair share of historical works, wizard and muggle alike. "I like reading and learning as well," replied Phaedra, pausing to drop two measures of the mixture into her cauldron. Lifting the wooden spoon, she began to stir once more and then continued. "My mum's a historian, so as you can imagine, there was never an absence of that type of information." Five stirs counter-clockwise - they were nearly finished, and nothing had blown up in their faces yet. Brewing this thing was all going along swimmingly.

"...I liked learning about the Ancient Egyptians so much that I named my cat Cleocatra, back a few years ago." Phaedra's very first cat had passed of old age and the heartbroken girl begged her father for another after the mourning wore off. Not being able to say no to his little girls, the bearded man had returned from a business trip in the United States, his hands full with a small, silver mau. The two Stavrou sisters couldn't agree on what to name their new pride and joy, the eldest arguing in favour of something simpler and less embarrassing - like Ophelia - so instead they were forced to settle with both names, a first and 'middle'. It was the only way both girls would be content. "I know, I know. It's really stupid," she said, though her smile and the delight in her tone was undeniable. "But seven year old me thought it was brilliant."

"Anyway! Of course, I'll let you read some of my writings," she beamed, glancing down to wave her wand over her cauldron and complete the task. It turned out quite nicely, at least from what she could tell. She glanced over at Max's batch and saw that his and hers looked identical, which eased her concerns. They must've brewed it correctly then. Looking back up to him, she continued. "I hope you like fantasy... and the occasional poem or two. I'll try to bring out my bouzouki someday as well - It's in my trunk collecting dust. I haven't had very much time to practice." She didn't know what had compelled her to tell him yes. Indeed, she was incredibly lonely so far at Hogwarts, but that wasn't any different than what she had experienced back at her Manchester home. Busy father, emotionally distant mother, estranged sister - and the list went on. Hiding in her parents' extravagant library with only her wild imagination as company got her this far, she could go on for a bit longer, right?

...Oh, who was she kidding? She knew she desperately wanted a friend, and Max had actually offered his companionship, so why not bite? It had been a while since she had shown someone something she was proud of, and the Gryffindor seemed... non-judgemental, almost like someone she could confide in and spill every little last heartache to. Almost. There was still a high possibility that everything about him was an act; that maybe his words were just a ploy to trap her when at her most vulnerable. Phaedra's mother may not have been the most empathetic, but she taught her daughters to be wary of others - that much she made sure was beat into their heads. Phaedra would have to be cautious around the Avery boy; she was more than willing to use their next meeting to test him and see if he was being genuine or not. She hoped he was.

"We should clean." Laying down her wand for the last time, she turned off the gas to lower the flames under the cauldron. While that cooled, she neatly cleaned up her table area, making a few trips to dispose of anything that needed it.

After that was done, she made her way back to the table and leaned forward to carefully grab the glass phials first years were required to use. Phaedra used a metal phial holder to grab the largest one and dip it into her cauldron to collect some of the potion, pulling it out afterward to then seal the glass container closed with its cap. The girl held it up to one of the room's candlelight and smiled, its dark orange colour glistening as she gave it a little shake.

The atmosphere in the classroom became loud with chattering as students began to move back to their original seats to retrieve their belongings, right before the distant chime of the clock tower signaled the conclusion of class.

The Ravenclaw felt as if she should say one last thing to him before they parted, and so she turned to him to give a farewell. "Um, it was really nice talking to you, Max," besides the whole Voldemort thing. She knew that wasn't very enjoyable for him, let alone her, but as for the rest of their conversation, she genuinely found him interesting and even noticed a few similarities between them already in the short amount of time they talked. "You're a pretty good partner too. I think my parents will be pleased to know that I've met and worked in class with an Avery. See you around?" she finally asked, reaching down for her schoolbag.

Hearing that her mother was a historian brought a wide-eyed look of admiration from Max, who could listen to someone who knew about history talk for years. He may have only met Phaedra within the last hour, but already he couldn't help but think that this was one of the best alliances he could make all year. Sure, his parents would happy to know he was friends with a Stavrou - that was all great - yet if they ended up at a dinner party together then it would be genuinely fun to talk to her and her mother. His excitement over this was compounded doubly when he heard about her cat.

"Cleocatra," he repeated in a voice of such distinct amusement that he was drawing stares from other students. "It's still brilliant." Cats were the most amazing creatures in the universe; from his perspective, they made the world go round and if there was nothing else worth living for, they were. There was just something about their lazy dismissiveness of any argument you brought against them that made him laugh. He'd once seen a drunken man on the sidewalk yell at a cat for who knew how many minutes straight and the thing had only blinked tiredly at the man. Cats simply didn't care.

He hadn't even realized he was smiling at his potion until Phaedra agreed to let him read what she wrote, breaking his reverie about cats and their utter lack of giving a crap. "Of course I like fantasy," he said agreeably as he watched Phaedra finish her potion. No one had blown anything up and they were both uniform in colour, so he supposed they'd done a job worth doing. "Especially the epic stuff. The world-building is like history except fictional, so even if it doesn't have many real-life applications, it's interesting." He could only imagine the kind of world-building someone who had grown up around a historian would do.

To be perfectly honest, this was the ideal friendship in terms of... well, everything. Common interests, similarities in bloodlines, and both of them having the ambition to get good grades. Regardless of how angry his parents had been that he was in Gryffindor, even they wouldn't deny the fact that the two families forming an alliance was beneficial. Could he convince them to dine with the Stavrous outside of school time? It should be relatively easy, giving him a chance to speak with Phaedra more while earning approval from everyone. He had no idea what his schedule would look like with Ivor looking after him, but he could likely still make it happen. And... he wanted to be friends with her. There. For once, the situation was uncomplicated enough that he could admit something like that to himself. He only hoped this wasn't some ploy to draw him into admitting his failure to hate every mudblood who existed - he'd have to tread lightly around that subject for a while.

He nodded in agreement when she suggested cleaning up, definitely not wanting to get in trouble from the strict potions professor. This was the least best part, but it had to be done. Flicking off his burner, he worked in tandem with her at his own table area, silently washing to make sure no traces of their ingredients remained anywhere to interact with something else. It didn't take long for the potion to cool so he could dump it in one of the glass phials, admiring the colour with a satisfied nod.

Unfortunately, he realized that he didn't actually know if it would work or not. They'd performed all of the steps correctly but it was impossible to know whether or not this was poison until it was tried on someone. Disappointingly, he decided that he might have to leave it there after all because there was just no way to tell if it would kill someone or make them forget.

After setting it carefully on the desk and ending the cleanup with his pot, he finished up just in time to offer a farewell back to Phaedra. People could be very good at faking and manipulating, but it seemed like she meant it when she'd said it was nice talking to him. Beyond the whole Dark Lord glitch, he shared that sentiment. "You too," he said with a smile, hoping he'd made a good enough impression on her that she'd say something nice to her parents. "My parents will most certainly be pleased to hear about this. And - "

That had felt too formal a farewell, so he traded his polite grin in for a moment to give her a mischievous one. "My aunt will love to hear your cat's name. So thanks for that, it pretty much made my day." Yeah, he was still serious enough to not attempt to piss off the professor at the moment, but he couldn't help having a side that liked to harmlessly tease and prank. "I hope we see each other soon. I like you, Phaedra Stavrou." Scooping up his books in one arm, he gave her one final wave before exiting the class.

As much as she had wanted to take her first potion with her, it was only for practice - brewing a potion once wasn't nearly enough to perfect all of the techniques behind it. One could flip through their textbook all they wanted, but as first years the chances were too high that someone could get seriously hurt. There was no other option but to leave the work in this dungeon, for their charming yet strict professor to collect and grade. Following Max, she left the glass phial containing the potion on the tabletop, right next to his. 

An overwhelming feeling of relief ran through Phaedra after being told that the boy actually enjoyed her presence and she returned his mischevious grin, still silently hoping that he would tell his family good things about her. Phaedra gave a small wave of her own and after Max turned to leave, she pushed all of her materials into her schoolbag with a quick swipe of her hand. She stood and followed the rest of the class out into the corridors, appearing to have more pep in her step than when she had entered.

It was probably the happiest she had felt in months.