Backdated to Sept. 1st
Outfit | Shoes
Ticket To Ride

A long summer had passed since Wyatt’s first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. His first year was full of memories. Not very good ones, mostly, and the summer was just worse. Finding out that your mother has been living with a terminal illness and never told you about it, then watching her die in front of you sucks. Because of that, Wyatt spent the summer at his mother’s friends house, which happened to be the home of Wyatt's arch-nemesis, Alec J. Mason.

Though the boys entered the summer as enemies, they left it as friends with blackmail. Well, maybe Wyatt wouldn’t say they were friends, but that was only because Wyatt barely understood what a friend was. He and Alec had gotten to the platform quite early, so Wyatt was able to find an empty compartment toward the back of the train, and though he knew it would soon occupy more than one child, he was grateful to have a few moments of quiet. Or at least as much quiet as a train full of children could offer.

There was shuffling and muffled conversations outside of Wyatt’s compartment, but the Slytherin paid no attention to that. He was just sat leaning back, arms crossed, with one leg over the other, looking over the compartment. The ones in the back were just a little nicer than the ones toward the front. There was less gum stuck under the seats in the back, fewer carvings on the roof saying meaningless things like “jack 1996” or : ). Children like to mark their territory more than wild animals, Wyatt thought.

Staring out the window, Wyatt waited for the train to finally get moving. It wasn’t like he’d been waiting for hours, but Wyatt just wanted to get back to his dorm and sleep. He’d noticed that he was getting more and more exhausted recently, and the fact that he was willing to see his awful, loud-mouthed, childish, prankster, problematic, dim-witted dormmates again even for a minute of sleep was very telling of that. So were the bags under his eyes and his messy hair.

꧁༒• @Wyatt Starkey •༒꧂

Boarding the train to return for her second year of Hogwarts didn't particularly entice Lana as she solemnly drug her trunk up the train's steps. This year, just as last's, would be filled with annoyance and unfriendliness, causing Lana to roll her eyes back just at the mere thought of it.

As she walked down the narrow hall of train compartments, she thought of the first time she had first boarded this train, practically bouncing off the walls to be sorted into her destined house. This, of course, she knew would be Slytherin; or at least she hoped it would be. Lana then shook her head in disgust as she envisioned the black and blue tie portraying the house Ravenclaw. How embarrassing..

Most of the compartments were either full of students, containing people whom she didn't like, or overall just muggle-borns in general. Her eyes searched for at least one friend in them, though with her luck, no one seemed to be there.

The best chance she had of getting a peaceful ride was to settle in a compartment that contained one other boy, someone Lana had yet to meet. She slid the door open, her eyes locking with his for a moment, though not long before she had the chance to tear away. She took a seat across from him, crossing her legs as she did so. Perfectly mannered.

Lana thought it to be rude of her if she didn't introduce herself properly, so she extended one hand out towards the messy haired boy and grinned. "Lana Monet, Ravenclaw.." She said thoughtfully, her voice quiet at the mention of her house.

Lana's Outift

Wyatt fought to hold back a disappointed sigh as he heard the compartment door open, but he knew the closest thing to silence that he had all year had to end some time soon. The girl sat in such a perfectly manicured way that Wyatt could only describe as… pure-bloody. She introduced herself, saying her name was "Lana Monet," and she was a "Ravenclaw." And though the girl reeked of confidence and unchecked arrogance, she said Ravenclaw with shame. Maybe if she was as mean as she looked, Wyatt could use her house as an insult later. He made a mental note.

He had to introduce himself, right? “Wyatt Starkey,” he said. “Slytherin.” Wyatt was a Slytherin with pride, and would always be. He was no Gryffindor, no hero complex or wide eyes on this twelve-year-old. Starkey was in no way a Hufflepuff, he wasn’t nearly as kind as the likes of Alina Rosier or Clifton Troublefield. Not a Ravenclaw, though that’s the only house that he wouldn’t have died (on the spot) if he heard he was accidentally sorted into. It would have to be Slytherin for Wyatt. Cunning, ambitious, loyal… and the strange, talking hat agreed.

The Snake shook the Eagle’s hand, though he didn’t bother trying to offer a smile. Not only did he have a strange feeling he wouldn’t like her very much, but he’d been told when he wears a grin it looks odd or out of place because of how seldom a smile grazes his features. After he shook her hand he went back to the same position as before. Leaning back, arms crossed, one leg draped over the other. He wasn’t one to begin conversations, and though he knew it would be a long ride, he wasn’t planning on changing that. The Snake just looked out the window, trying to distance himself.

@Lana Monet

꧁༒• @Wyatt Starkey •༒꧂

Lana noticed the boy's vacant expression as he spoke to her, obviously uninterested in pursing a conversation. His touch was cold as he shook her hand, causing her to wince and pull away, not commenting on it to spare themselves awkward silence.

She watched him shift his gaze back to the window, giving Lana no other reason but to think he didn't like her very much. He seemed annoyed, or at least uninterested in what Lana had to offer. Perhaps he had already decided she was a brat, in which case he'd be right, but it still amused her that he'd judged her so quickly and rejected her so fast.

She had the choice to stay silent and just endure the lengthy ride to Hogwarts, or she could pester him out of his comfort zone and perhaps end up getting him even more annoyed than he was now. She decided to take her chances and respond a second time, her tone now slightly off-putting.
"Too cool to talk, hm?" She asked with a smirk, examining her nails as she picked a speck of dirt off them. She didn't have the energy to start picking on him, and to be quite honest, she wouldn't have done it anyway. He seemed to be just as snarky as she was, leaving Lana unable to not like him just a bit.

"Too cool to talk, hm?" To this, Wyatt simply had to roll his eyes. Sometimes it gets disappointing being right all the time about your observations of people. When you already know what someone will be like, you’re never really surprised or impressed. Though Monet’s tone held a hefty amount of snark, her expression and mannerisms gave off the vibe that she didn’t care very much about her own accusatory words.

How could someone so expressive be so hard to understand? Her words said she was trying to start an argument, but her body language said she wouldn’t care if Wyatt stood up and walked away. It was quite interesting, to say the least. It was even difficult to tell if she was playing mind games with him on purpose. She was a Ravenclaw, surely she would have the cleverness to make it seem like he’s making himself go crazy and all she did was say hi.

Wow. Either she was good or Wyatt needed to stop overthinking so much. Though there was a long enough pause between his sentence and Lana’s, he was sure not to wait too long before he said something. He wasn’t a genius, but everything he did was calculated. It was strange how much work he put into pretending not to care. “Perhaps I’m not cool enough,” he said calmly, expression still empty, staring out the window.

@Lana Monet

꧁༒• @Wyatt Starkey •༒꧂

She noticed him roll his eyes, though he didn't speak right away. She wondered why this was, because they certainly didn't seem intimidated. More so confused, as if they had been trying to figure her out like an unsolvable puzzle.
This made her grin slightly, the ability to make herself unreadable after a year of practicing. She did this as an act of defense, making her slightly more untouchable than usual. It gave off the impression that she didn't care, when in reality she does regardless if she makes herself out to believe she doesn't.

Their response caught her off guard, his vacant expression unfazed by her. "Perhaps.." She said slyly, uncrossing her legs to lean forward a bit with her hands placed palms down on the seat. It would be a lie if she said she wasn't interested in why he acted this way. Possibly to make her angry? To show her that she had no effect over him? She couldn't quite figure it out, causing her to bite the inside of her cheek, her mouth raw from this habit.

"Although, you could have a pass I suppose. Well, unless you want to sit there all pouty."
She knew this was the only way she'd attract his attention, or maybe she was wrong. Usually when she started to mock students they'd get riled up and start an argument, but she didn't really seem to think this Slytherin would do the same. He seemed quite reserved and calm, contrary to the hotheaded type she'd met before.

"Although, you could have a pass I suppose. Well, unless you want to sit there all pouty."

Despite knowing she was just saying things to get on his nerves, he wondered if he really did look all pouty. Instead of giving her what he thought would be a satisfying reaction, Wyatt rolled his eyes and said, “well, now that I have permission.” This girl was such an entitled pure-blood it was absolutely sickening. Wyatt turned from the window to look at Lana directly. “You’re not exactly in the position to tell other people they look pouty.”

She was dressed quite fancy, but in all black, like she was in an emo band at the Grammys. Her face was telling with every emotion, right now, she was wearing a grin that was slowly fading. The longer she bit the inside of her mouth, the more the smile would fade. She wasn’t thinking out loud, but it was abundantly clear she was thinking. Wyatt couldn’t let it go, though. He couldn’t stay quiet. He hated entitled pure-bloods more than anything.

He smirked, then said, “You don’t have to introduce yourself as a Ravenclaw if you’re so ashamed of it, you know.” He was grateful he remembered her expression when she told- no, confessed to Wyatt that she was a Ravenclaw, as if it were a sin. “To be fair, I would feel just as embarrassed if I was sorted into that house.” In truth, he would be fine with being a Ravenclaw, but the aim of the game was to make her feel alone, not to comfort her.

Despite knowing he shouldn’t, he continued. “So what did you want to be?” He questioned, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward slightly, arms still crossed. “Or what did your family want you to be?” Leaning back to his original position, he crossed one leg over the other again. “Based on the classic stereotype, I’m going to have to go with Slytherin, aren’t I?” He was talking about the only-blood-purists-get-into-Slytherin thing, of course.

_{@Lana Monet}

꧁༒• @Wyatt Starkey •༒꧂

Lana seemed to be slightly more annoyed now than before, her eyes holding a slight fire in them. He was witty, that was for sure.
His responses were quick; like they had been waiting to roll off his tongue. She met his eyes for the first time, his looking cold and distant in contrast to her own.

It was then that he'd brought up her house as if it was something he could use against her. She remained stonefaced, not allowing herself to show expression. Though she knew it wasn't possible. She had already lost, the boys face smug with feeling victorious.

"I'm not ashamed." She said plainly, looking back at him directly. Though in truth, she was. Not because of the characteristics, no, she thought they were pretty smart when it came down to it. It was just the mere thought of letting her family down that disgusted her. Though why should she care, really? They treated her like rubbish, therefore she should do the same?

"That's none of your concern." She replied distastefully, her once taunting behavior now replaced by mere disdain. It was as of this moment she realized she would have had better chances taking the booth with the weird art kids rather than this boy.

"What makes you say Slytherin?"

"I'm not ashamed," she lied. He chuckled. It was a wonder why she even tried to convince him. Wyatt knew he made it more than clear he could read her like a book. She made it so easy, too. She wore all of her emotions on her face constantly. She wouldn’t be feeling that angry if he was wrong, would she? At this point, it seemed she was trying to convince herself that she didn’t care, which also seemed to do absolutely nothing at all.

"That's none of your concern." That was her oh, so clever response to his comments on her house, what her parents wanted her to be, and so on. "What makes you say Slytherin?" He let out a small, condescending chuckle, and wore a tight smile as he said, “what? Would you like me to flatter you?” As fast as it came, his smile fell as his own words triggered something in his memory that he’d somehow forgotten from his first year.

Would you like me to flatter you was a question he asked Clay McGlinchy in his first year when she helped him to the Hospital Wing after he got beat up by some Gryffindors. Based on the things she’d said to him, he was able to deduce she was a Gryffindor, and when he called her a lion, she asked why… and he answered those rudely phrased words. Eventually, though, they became friends. The first friend Wyatt ever made. Shocking, huh.

Because they were friends, she was the first person he explained his scars to, and soon after, she left Hogwarts without explanation. He realized he’d zoned out pretty quickly, and fixed his face to be emotionless and unreadable before he looked Lana in the eye again. Wyatt was well aware she must have noticed, but he really hoped she wouldn’t mention anything. Then again, she didn’t owe him anything. He hadn’t been very nice to her so far.

As if nothing at all happened, he started his explanation, “You’re obviously a pure-blood, which is the main reason behind your superiority complex. Your parents have either given you too much attention or none at all and you try desperately to make them proud every day, which is why being in Ravenclaw pisses you off so much. Being a blood-purist (I assume) based on the stereotype, your parents would have been hoping for you to be in Slytherin.”

_{@Lana Monet}

꧁༒• @Wyatt Starkey •༒꧂

Listening to him list characteristics triggered something within her, though she realized she'd been pretty readable up to this point. She didn't know why, or how. Everyone she'd met was scared of her, as if she was going to hurt them, so why did this boy seem so content? Why did she herself feel as if she couldn't hold her ground against him?

It angered her, to know that she didn't have power over the Slytherin. It was something she strived for, so now that she was unable to have such a thing caused her to wonder. How could she get to him? How could she equally taunt him in response? He'd been so reserved she hadn't been able to grasp anything but pointless information.

She then suddenly had a shift in moods, realizing she was nothing but a prat if she'd let someone like this get to her. How she had even contemplated being upset over something so idiotic bewildered her.
Lana allowed herself to relax, though her eyes were still stuck on the boy. He seemed to zone out, causing her to cock an eyebrow. She'd figured that was something she could bring up, though it was pretty vague and he could lie about it easily.

Her once tense body language had now shifted into something more comfortable, more at ease. She watched the window for a moment, the trees passing the window quick and blurred.

"Takes one to know one, I guess."