Hideout Fin

Clay had seen them. At first she had thought it was just friends playing around but she had seen the discomfort in the boys eyes, and possibly the hurt. When she realized that her own housemates had been bullying someone, especially a Slytherin, she couldn't help but watch in awe; as far as Clay knew it was usually the other way, given the sworn rivalry she had came to learn about.

Clay snapped out of her daze. She wondered if maybe the boy had provoked it, but even so, he didn't deserve to be beaten up, no one did.

She quietly followed the bullies as they chased him through the halls, nearly stepping on a pair of broken glasses. Her heart leapt; they'd really gone too far.

Clay saw them go into the Abandoned Toilets and decided to wait outside, fuming. She heard someone sounds inside and thought about going in. She was small and thin but she packed a punch, as her grandmother used to say back when she used to ruffle with her older cousin. But then the bullies started coming out and Clay was ready for them, having built up all her anger.

"What the hell is wrong with you all?! Why did you bother him, what did he do to you?" She realized she was loud so she lowered voice a little, but just barely. "This is probably why Slytherin doesn't like us, 'cause of idiots like you! Why don't you—" She wanted to say 'why don't you go pick on someone your own size' but she didn't want these rowdy boys to touch her.

Instead she growled, "Leave or I'm getting a professor!" But the boys were already rounding the corner.

Clay stepped into the lavatory quietly, looking around. It was eerily silent, so she silent that she wondered if anyone was even in there. She'd heard rumors about people coming her to hangout or do shady stuff but she couldn't understand why anyone would be in someplace so unsanitary.

"Hello?" Clay was used to creepy things and place, but she was a bit unsettled by the quiet.

She cleared her throat and started walking around. "I know you're in here, you don't have to hide from me..." Even though I'm a Gryffindor, she thought. She stopped in front of stall, which she didn't realize happened to be the one he was hiding in.

Wyatt didn’t hear the Gryffindor tell the bullies off in the corridor, but he noticed the creaky door to the lavatory open. Wyatt’s head jerked up when he heard the female voice.

"Hello?" Damn it… at least it didn’t sound like the word came from a professor.

"I know you're in here, you don't have to hide from me...” Like hell I don’t, Wyatt thought. He didn’t want to open the stall door just yet, as he looked like a monster. The black eye, the bloody lip. Hopefully the bloodstain on his shirt wasn’t going to be permanent… he was a total mess. Wyatt was hoping the girl hadn’t seen the boys beat him up, it was so embarrassing. The girl was probably a Gryffindor, he thought. Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs would have the sense to ignore things like that. Only Gryffindors would go out of their way to be the hero. Wyatt decided to answer after waiting a few moments.

“I’m fine,” he snapped, in the most “fine” voice he could muster, “supper’s already started, you should go. Besides, it’s quite nice in here when you get used to it.” The last sentence was dripping with sarcasm. You could never get used to the smell. Or Myrtle. Wyatt was especially grateful for the absence of Myrtle right now.

She nearly jumped; the boy was in the stall right next to her, and he didn't sound wimpy at all, like she'd supposed he would. She moved to the stall, meaning to open it, but changed her mind midway. She figured he could do with a little more privacy than she was willing to give in a situation like this. She didn't know him but when people got beat up she was often there to comfort them, or at least be there so they won't feel alone. But this one didn't sound like he wanted any company.

“I’m fine,” he snapped. “Supper’s already started, you should go. Besides, it’s quite nice in here when you get used to it.” She could tell he was being sarcastic but she wasn't in the mood to laugh, like she usually was. Instead Clay folded her arms and frowned.

"I'm pretty sure I know where I should and shouldn't be going, thank you very much," she said, hopping her voice wasn't as high pitch as it sounded.

She wanted to say something else, something more empathetic, but she decided to match his ungrateful attitude. "Besides, I wasn't really here for you, anyways." Clay sat down on the floor, despite how disgusting it seemed. She wished she had at least brought her cloak to sit on. "I actually come here often to hang out, but you probably didn't realize because you're too busy getting beaten up. And why's that, by the way? Did something?" She meant to say the last part in an accusatory way but it came out softly, as if she were being empathetic.

"I'm pretty sure I know where I should and shouldn't be going, thank you very much,” Her voice was getting higher in pitch as she got more defensive, and Wyatt rolled his eyes. Finally someone tells a Gryffindor to mind their business, and this is how it goes, not surprising. Not surprising at all.

"Besides, I wasn't really here for you, anyways.” Wyatt heard the girl sit. He didn’t believe her. Who would come here just to hang out, Myrtle keeps this place pretty vacant. Then again, Wyatt came here a lot, to get away from the bullies, mostly. "I actually come here often to hang out, but you probably didn't realize because you're too busy getting beaten up.” Wyatt shifted at that. She saw. “And why's that, by the way? Did something?” He assumed the girl was sticking up for her fellow Gryffindors, though her tone had hints of empathy. Wyatt scoffed. Maybe he’d provoked them. He thought back on what happened

The ridiculously dull boys were leaning against the walls of the corridor like they owned the castle. As Wyatt approached, they lined up, blocking the hall so he couldn’t pass. Wyatt was sick of their tormenting, and let two words slip from his mouth. “Bugger off.” He regretted it immediately. The boys drew closer and took Wyatt’s glasses. Wyatt didn’t need them to see. He used them to hide the bags under his eyes, but it was still a pretty big loss. The leader of the trio stomped them to uselessness. One of the others scourgifyed him, making the much younger boy choke on bubbles. The third bully punched him in the face, hence the black eye, and tried to grab hold of him. Wyatt, being quite thin managed to run and turn the corner. That’s when he ran into the bathroom. Looking back, Wyatt hadn’t really done much to annoy the three, so he said so.

“I didn’t do anything. What, just because I’m a Slytherin you think I had it coming? How predictable.” Wyatt spat at the girl through the stall door. “You’re a Gryffindor aren’t you? All the same.”

What? Clay wanted to be mad at his accusation, even though she basically just accused him herself, but she only felt bad for him. She only wished that he didn't sound like she was anything like them. She was a Gryffindor but not some ignorant bully who had nothing better to do that harass other students.

"I don't care if you're a Slytherin," she began, not bothering to confirm she was a Gryffindor yet. "I would've asked anyone that. I just find it hard to believe that someone can get beat up to a pulp like that for next to no reason." Now she was accusing him.

The more it dawned to her the more Clay realized it was actually really fishy; why did three Gryffindors specifically do this to him? They stomped on his glasses, cast spells on him, and beat him up so bad that she wouldn't be surprised to find him covered in blood and bruises. Actually, what they had done really called for them to be expelled, though she would be fine with detention for the rest of the school year. Honestly, what gave them any right to bother him like this?

Despite her sympathies, Clay laced her words with ice. "With how you're treating me you sound like you almost deserved it." She hmphed.

She wanted to press him further, question him like the persistent 'reporter' she was, but Clay thought better of it. He sounded like he would only get more irritated the more she pestered him, and she wasn't in the mood for arguing, especially after witnessing all of that. She definitely wasn't going to let it go before the day ended, probably saying something to a professor or prefect, but for now it was better to change the subject.

"Why do you think I'm a Gryffindor?" Clay was sure that he hadn't seen her threw the blur of the fight. She wondered if she sounded like her housemates, or if it were something else. She had simply came to check whether he were okay and he snarled at her like she had wounded him. Was she guilty by affiliation or something? She barely knew those boys, nor did she ever want to, honestly.

"I don't care if you're a Slytherin, I would've asked anyone that. I just find it hard to believe that someone can get beat up to a pulp like that for next to no reason." Her voice now held a highly accusatory tone.

"With how you're treating me you sound like you almost deserved it." She hmphed. Wyatt scoffed in return.

"Why do you think I'm a Gryffindor?" Wyatt rolled his eyes.

“What do you want me to say? I can tell from your voice you’re a brave warrior?" he bit out, "You’re stubborn and you’re prideful. You won’t leave me alone.” Wyatt then continued. “You don’t have to believe me, Lion, but I didn’t start anything.” The boy wasn’t lying, the Gryffindors had picked on him since the beginning of his first year just because he was a Slytherin. The house rivalries were something to behold.

The thing was, Wyatt knew he was an easy target, he’d been bullied in his muggle school. The only reason he had an ounce of confidence was because he was hiding behind the stall door. Wyatt felt bad. This girl was just trying to be nice, Wyatt was the bad guy here. The least he could do was introduce himself, but first, he’d have to open the door.

The stall door creaked as it opened. He noticed the girl was sitting, so he joined her on the dirty floor, the door stayed open, old, not young enough to spring back and close itself. “Sorry.” He mumbled, not making eye contact. He seemed a lot quieter, more delicate in person. No wall to hide behind. Pathetic.

Brave warrior? Stubborn and prideful? But how could he even tell all of that from just a few exchanged words? Clay must be letting herself go to much in order for him to assume. Then again she was wearing a red hoodie but he hadn't mentioned her attire at all, only that she acted very much like a Gryffindor. It made her proud, living up to her house, but she was mad at his hurtful words regardless.

She pursed her lips, nose flaring in anger as mean words similar or worse than his bubbled up to the surface. Clay wasn't one to take things for too long, especially from someone she didn't even know. She has a big heart but and an even bigger soul, one that didn't want to be bashed upon by some random stranger.

Clay parted her lips, ready to lash out, when the stall door creaked open.

All she could do was stare. Her eyes were sullen, hints of pity and grief as she looked upon the battered boy, if he could even be called that anymore. Sure, there was the youth of a boy in him, after all he was only around her age, probably eleven or thirteen at max. But the way his shoulders sagged, how his eyes failed to reach hers, how the blood stained his clothing, how blue and purple his face was...it was just so unfit for a child.

Clay felt her lip tremble at the sight of him; it was all a little horrific in a bad way. She was used to scary things in films and games, but real life? It was just too different, too surreal seeing someone so...broken, or so she thought. It made her feel a little bit small in this already massive world. Clay thought magic would make everything better but then things like this happened.

"Sorry," he said, still avoiding her eyes. Clay parted her lips again but didn't say anything. Instead she shuffled over to the boy and gave him a hug, hoping it wasn't too tight because of his injuries.

Clay didn't move away, choosing to kneel in front of him. "I think you're really strong," she whispered, swallowing. She wanted to touch him again, spread some warmth and comfort like her grandmother did when she was this upset—if she ever were—but Clay wasn't sure how'd he react to more physical contact.

"You call me a warrior but I don't know if I'd keep fighting after all of that." It was partially true; Clay wasn't sure if she'd still even be enrolled at this school after being assaulted like this.

She studied him for a moment. He was actually good-looking, despite his unusually pale skin, so she scratched that off of reasons why someone would bully him. If he were ugly perhaps that were but he was far from that, at least in Clay's opinion. She liked how he had pierced ears, something her grandmother wouldn't let her get until she turned a hundred. She was a little bigger than him but only by height, because they were both fairly thin. He had bag under his eyes and scars underneath the bruises, ones she felt weren't from Hogwarts. All together he just looked like a sad boy. Clay didn't let him see the pity for long, though, making sure to keep her face straight.

"I don't know why they're messing with you so much when there's so many other people about but I'll make them stop...if you want." She tried to make it sound like she didn't really care too much about, but she did. Here she was again, acting brave like he'd said. But Clay couldn't help it, she felt like it was only right to help those who couldn't help themselves.

She got up and left the toilets for a moment, coming back rather quickly with a clean, damp rag. Clay crouched, moving to wipe the blood off the boy's face but gave it to him instead.

"Sorry.”
Wyatt watched as the girl opened her mouth, but couldn’t quite make out a sentence. He was beyond embarrassed, he should’ve kept the bloody door closed. He played the big tough guy and look at him now, broken. The Lion shuffled over to him, and gave him a cautious hug. He flinched at the sudden contact.

The girl continued to face him after the hug. "I think you're really strong," she whispered, swallowing. Wyatt was dumbfounded. No one had been this nice to him since he’d arrived at Hogwarts. No one had ever called him strong before.

"You call me a warrior but I don't know if I'd keep fighting after all of that." The girl continued. Wyatt wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure what. He wanted to snap back with some witty insult but his mind went blank. He made eye contact with her for a second, but when he saw the pity in her eyes, he broke it.

"I don't know why they're messing with you so much when there's so many other people about but I'll make them stop...if you want." She made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, like stopping big bullies twice her size was just another thing on the agenda. There she was, being brave again.


She got up and left the toilets for a moment, and came back with a damp rag. The Lion crouched, and moved her hand to wipe the blood off Wyatt’s face, then stopped and handed him the rag instead. Wyatt cleaned his face with the small towel as he spoke.

“You don’t need to be the hero. If it really bothered me, it’d be over by now.” His tone was dismissive, but lacked confidence and bite... and energy.

His statement was only half true, as it did bother him quite a lot, but it wasn’t going to get better if he had someone else tell off the bullies for him.

“Sorry.” He repeated. “I know you’re just trying to help. I’m... not... used to this.” Wyatt hoped he wouldn’t have to specify what ’this’ was. ’This’ was kindness, ’this’ was compassion, ’this’ was thoughtfulness. Things no one had showed him before. Not quite his mother, she was just as reserved as Wyatt when it came to feelings. Definitely not his father, that horrible man.

Wyatt still avoided eye contact with the Gryffindor as he said in a small voice, almost a whisper, “thanks.”

Good, at least he doesn't seem creeped out by my hug. The gazed at each other for the briefest of moments before turning away again, in which she chose to sit across from him this time. She offered a smile.

"You don't seem to get it, do you?" Clay laughed, dryly. "Those boys should get expelled for what they did to you. And even if they won't be, a good person wouldn't just leave anyone here like this, regardless of which house they're in. So stop calling me a hero just because I'm a Gryffindor, that's just...rude. Isn't that what we just call everyone who does something great? Because I can name a few Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Slytherins who would do the same thing as me without a thought."

She gave him a look of exasperation, feeling like he might not fully agree with her. What's with it with these people and these stereotypes? It's really annoying. And to voice her annoyance, she murmured, "Anyone can be a hero, it's nothing new." Clay thought especially of her good friend Alexa, a Hufflepuff who was quiet but brave as anyone she knew could be.

“Sorry.” He repeated. “I know you’re just trying to help. I’m... not... used to this. Thanks.” Clay noticed how troubled he was he said it.

But instead of saying something unhelpful, Clay smiled and crawled over to him. Her clothing was probably ruined by now but she hardly cared.

She placed one hand on his shoulder, forgetting about the grime on them. "Can you at least look at me? I know you don't think very much of me because I'm a Gryffindor, but I'm...I don't murder people." Clay quickly continued, knowing that would come out wrong if she didn't explain. "My uncle once said that people who hurt you on the outside kill what's on the inside—though he said that while he was drinking. Being tough and taking stuff is cool and all, but you don't need to do it alone. I-I—"

Her head shot to the side; there were voices near the bathroom. Of course people would be coming, after all, this was the Place for the shady and quiet people. Clay frowned and looked down at the boy.

She held out her hand. "I don't care whether you want me to or not but I'm going to help...to the best of my ability." Clay lifted up her arms, showing her thin arms. "As you couldn't tell before, I'm pretty strong, if I don't say so myself. Fit as a world-class boxer." She giggled, hoping that it would brighten him up at least a little bit. Of course she didn't think she could beat up anyone, honestly, but it was the thought that counted. Besides, as many people said, her voice alone was strong enough to defeat a thousand Goliaths.

"I'm Clay. What's your name?"