The Tales of Half-bloods. Finished

=
==
==
==
==========
==========
==========
==========
==========
==========
=
==



=

Meiyu paused mid-step as the sneering voices of the two Slytherins reached her ears. Her heart raced, but it wasn’t out of fear or intimidation — it was anger. Something she prided herself in rarely showcasing. Meiyu never seethed over anything, even if her younger brothers broke her favourite toys accidentally when they were a lot younger. This was different. She felt insulted, the two Slytherins saw her as though she was beneath them. She clenched her jaw, the words "pure without any blights tarnishing the flow" repeating in her head like a bad melody. She couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder, her eyes landing on the pair of pure-bloods lounging smugly behind her, their robes as immaculate as their sense of entitlement.

The words stung, but not in the way the Slytherins intended it to do. They didn’t know about her grandmother, her family’s history, or the pressure that came with it. To them, she was just a Gryffindor half-blood, and apparently, that was all they needed to spew their nonsense. Meiyu turned slowly to face them, her expression blank with boredom.

The Slytherin boy smirked, his chin lifting slightly in reply to Sanguinius. "It’s not our fault some people just weren’t born with the same... advantages that do not require hard skill that Xiang clearly does not posses."

Meiyu’s heart pounded in her chest, she had reminded herself to calm down. She glanced around the courtyard, noticing a few other students lingering nearby, their eyes occasionally drifting toward the confrontation. One figure, however, stood out — Sanguinius sitting against one of the stone pillars, watching the exchange from a distance with amusement evident on his face. She had barely interacted with the fellow first year prior to this despite their paths occasionally intwining during meal times and at the common room.

“So, let me get this straight,” Meiyu commented, stepping forward slightly with confidence. “You think your ancestors did all the hard work for you, and you’re just riding on their coattails? That must be... comforting. Knowing you don’t have to work for anything because it’s all been handed to you.”

The Slytherin girl's smile faded, replaced by a cold glare. “I don’t expect a half-blood like you to understand what it’s like to have real magical lineage,” she sneered. “Your kind wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for people like us.”

Meiyu felt a hot flush of anger rise in her chest. "People like you?" she shot back, her voice rising ever so slightly, catching the attention of some other students who scattered around the courtyard. "People like you are the reason half the wizarding world has to prove themselves twice over. All I see are two snobs who rely on their last names to make them feel important."

The boy stepped forward, his eyes narrowing as his hand hovered over the wand tucked into his robe. “Careful, Xiang,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You’re treading on dangerous ground. Gryffindors have been known to bite off more than they can chew.”

Meiyu’s pulse quickened, but she didn’t back down. Her wand was safely tucked in her own robes, but she could feel the tension mounting. This could easily escalate, and part of her was almost daring them to make the first move.

The girl crossed her arms, glancing between Meiyu and the boy. “Let her continue. She’s only digging her own grave. Just like her mother, I bet.”

Meiyu’s breath caught. Her mother? Her thoughts raced with many possibilities, how did they know about her mother? She was never shunned for marrying a muggle-born wizard, but it wasn't common knowledge to students here, nor was it information she opted to share with her peers. There was no reason to. The insult cut deeper than anything they had said before. These Slytherins didn’t know her, didn’t know her family — but they had touched a nerve. Her mother had fought hard to prove herself in the wizarding world, despite being born into a family that didn’t accept her marriage. Meiyu could feel the fury bubbling inside her, threatening to spill over.

“Don’t,” Meiyu said quietly, her voice trembling slightly, though not with fear, her anger was barely contained. “Don’t bring my mother into this.” The boy smirked again. “Hit a sore spot, did we? That’s the problem with half-bloods. Too many mixed loyalties. Makes things... complicated.”

The urge to draw her wand flared in Meiyu’s mind, it was as though the Slytherins could read her mind. The girl laughed softly. “Careful, Xiang. Don’t want to ruin that perfect Gryffindor image, do you? You wouldn’t want to get caught starting a fight.”

The tension in the courtyard was thick, the students who had been watching now fully invested in what might happen next. Meiyu could see the boy’s hand inching toward his wand, and her own fingers twitched in anticipation. This was it, a line was about to be crossed, and she was ready, she thought she was. Truthfully she was not. She had only begun learning spells in an educational setting merely within a month and would be significantly disadvantaged if the boy dared to duel.

=
==
==
==
=
==

wearing: uniform :-p

hex: #1f3b4d

Wyatt’s shoes, though sneakers, were hard enough soled that they rang out with click, clunk noises with every step. He listened to that beat, the stone melody reminding him that he was moving in real life, though the Monday fog was hitting him hard enough everything felt like a dream. Including those disembodied voices, hissing harsh words and vague threats in the courtyard nearby. He thought he’d heard the word “half-blood” said with a tone unreasonably rude, and he thought he’d seen the shape of four students, two in Slytherin robes, another two sporting Gryffindor red.

The scene was real, though, Wyatt deduced upon getting closer. And the more things he overheard, the more he didn’t like it. Begrudgingly, he realized he was on the Gryffindors’ side in this one, the Slytherins saying some unkind things about those of mixed magic and muggle descent. Wyatt shouldn’t have been so frustrated at this, it’s not like he was much better than them. He’d done his fair share of bullying in his day, and though he’d mellowed out in more recent years, he still wasn’t a saint. Maybe it was because of his experience on the bullying end that he was disappointed in his housemates. There were much more substantial things to put someone down about. We wouldn’t want to get into that now though, it wouldn’t be right to give out too many pointers, free of charge.

The moment was too good to pass up, so he knew he had to choose a side. He was, in this moment, torn between his housemates and his fellow half-bloods. Seeing as the half-bloods were minding their own business and his housemates were being insufferable brats, the decision was easily made.

Wyatt swung around an entrance to the courtyard, nimbly grabbing his wand from his pocket with a quick motion and a spin, for fun, of course. He marched to where the group was gathered, and seeing the Gryffindor boy rashly dive for one of the Slytherins—that stupid Gryffindor recklessness on full display, Wyatt scoffed—swiftly pushed the lion out of the way before he could reach the snake, sending him back in the direction of the Gryffindor girl. He continued walking past the scene, getting out of what would soon be the splash zone, then spinning around to face the Slytherin duo.

“Aguamenti,” he said firmly with the calculated wave of his wand. He aimed slightly upward, the water coming down like rain on the Slytherins, drenching them entirely. “Oops, sorry. Just practicing my spells. Now, I suggest you both change before you have to get to your next class looking like you wrestled with the giant squid,” he teased flatly, vaguely gesturing in the direction of the Great Lake.

When the two didn’t move, likely in shock, he added in a slow drawl, “Or I could continue to practice my spell casting. Which would you prefer… the antler growth hex, or the human-to-chicken transfiguration spell?” This caused the two to stumble away, to which Wyatt added with a wink, “Good thinking. We wouldn’t want to see a couple of nice purebloods making fools of themselves.”

As he slid his wand back into his pocket, he turned to the Gryffindor duo.

“What were they getting on you two about, then? I hope I didn’t drive out the wrong duo,” he said. “I’m Wyatt… Starkey. Sixth year,” then, gesturing to the green of his uniform, “Slytherin.”

Mentioned: two npc slytherins
Intreracting: @Sanguinius Demarest @Meiyu Xiang

As the altercation went on, Meiyu could feel the humiliation burning in her cheeks. She'd learned to ignore most of the cruel, hurtful taunts from the Slytherins. But their haughty demeanor still made her feel a little self-conscious. She understood that they were trying to provoke a reaction, hoping to back her into a corner and make her lash out — they wanted to relish in seeing her stumble and give in to a duel in the courtyard.

Her gaze shifted when she felt Sanguinius step beside her, his presence strong and protective. She almost rolled her eyes at his intervention, though a part of her appreciated his defense. His words echoed in her mind.

“Don’t let them have that satisfaction.”

She wanted to prove herself — more than anything. Prove that she wasn’t weak, that her bloodline, mixed or not, didn’t define her. There was a reason she hadn’t been sorted into Slytherin like her grandmother had expected. But at this moment, as the anger bubbled under her skin, she wasn't entirely sure what that reason was. It would have been so easy to lash out. The wand in her pocket felt heavier than usual, and for a brief moment, she considered it.

Everything seemed to happen at once. Sanguinius, his temper finally boiling over, lunged at the nearest Slytherin, forcing the boy to stumble back in surprise. The sound of whispers and gasps throughout the courtyard as the scene developed. Sanguinius was shoved backwards by an older Slytherin Broom Racer, right into Meiyu, before she could even recognise what was occurring.

Meiyu instinctively grabbed him, her hands firmly securing his arms to keep him steady.. For a moment, her heart pounded, unsure if he'd retaliate or not. As he stood back upright, she quickly checked him over, scanning for any signs of injury, though she doubted the shove had done any real damage. Still, her chest tightened at the thought of someone standing up for her, at the recklessness he showed to defend her honour. It wasn’t often that someone went out of their way like that, and even though part of her wanted to scold him for getting involved, another part of her couldn’t help but feel touched.

Once she was sure he was fine, Meiyu turned toward the older Slytherin who had broken up the brewing fight. She was immediately irritated upon noticing his house colors, Slytherin, just like the others. However, her annoyance quickly faded as she saw his composed, concerned expression. Her face softened, but there was still an edge to her voice as she spoke, unable to fully conceal the frustration from the altercation.

"They think they’re superior to me," she said sarcastically, "because apparently, half-bloods have to work harder." She rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, her irritation returning as she replayed the Slytherins’ words in her head.

The crowd of students had started to disperse, whispering to one another, their curiosity about the confrontation dwindling now that it seemed over. But Meiyu's blood still boiled. She disliked being made an example of. What's more, she despised feeling like the victim.The idea that this would get out, some half-blood Gryffindor getting bullied by Slytherins, made her skin crawl.

She shot a glance at Sanguinius, half-annoyed but also grateful for his fierce reaction. Few others would have taken the time to stand up for her like he had. “You didn’t have to do that, you know,” she muttered, loud enough for Sanguinius to hear. “But thanks.”

Finally, she turned back to the older Slytherin, her gaze still sharp but not as hostile. “You didn’t have to step in either,” she said, her voice softer, though she couldn’t help but add, “but you should probably have a word with your housemates about their egos. They’re out of control.” She couldn’t resist the smirk that formed on her lips, though it was clear there was still lingering tension in her voice.

Meiyu couldn't help but feel the weight of her previous notions resurfacing in spite of everything. Was this the life she led now? Proving herself repeatedly to those who would always view her as inferior due to her ancestry? She felt a pang of disappointment in herself — not because of the taunts, but because a part of her had almost given in. She had almost let them drag her down to their level.

“I’m not going to let them win.” she muttered, almost to herself, as her eyes flicked back toward the doors of the castle. If she was going to prove herself, it wouldn’t be through reckless duels or petty insults. It would be by showing them that she was better, without stooping to their level.

wearing: uniform

hex: #1f3b4d

Wyatt watched on, barely conscious as the first years thanked each other. What a sweet moment… he fought, successfully, to suppress a dramatic eye roll. Almost ready to go, he was violently pulled back into reality when the girl addressed him, giving him the task of checking his housemates’ egos. If he was lucky, he’d never see the brats again. Formulating a response, Wyatt cocked an eyebrow and sent her a doubtful look, but before he could get a word out the boy began his line of questioning.

“Where I’m from holds no significance to you,” he started, slowly, looking at the Gryffindors down his nose. He hadn’t yet gotten a good read on the boy. Wyatt wasn’t even there yet long enough to know the kid was someone he should get a read on. He was distinctive and bland, someone who could fit so many descriptions that they became unique again. His messy, pale blonde hair practically sparkled in the sun, nearly giving him a halo. Wyatt tried to gauge whether he was from money, and was starting to think so. He spoke like an animated tailored suit and stood with more confidence than Wyatt thought was necessary. To go from so ill-tempered he’d tackle another student to… this? Fascinating.

“If you give out your loyalty so freely that everyone in your house has it without question, I’m not so sure of your judgement. And, please, that was finesse. If I’d threatened them with something actually dangerous they might have stayed. No self-respecting Slytherin will cry to mummy or daddy over being turned into a chicken,” he argued, his tone level and sure. He crossed his arms in a manner not as much defensive as it was simply unbothered, straightening his posture as he did so.

He didn’t want to address the boy’s comment on loyalty any further. It felt like a trap, not to mention Wyatt’s answers would probably be a little too candid. What’s to say? Allying with a couple of shallow first years isn’t his top priority? And if it ever was, Wyatt was more than confident he could fool the two into believing it was a genuine mistake, part of a bigger plan, something like that. Wyatt had grown from his early years at Hogwarts, when he stuck to the dungeons and expressed only hostility to the other, “inferior” houses, but he did, in his own way, maintain ultimate loyalty to Slytherin. A malleable kind of loyalty, but loyalty all the same. Loyalty to the end goal, one could say. Whatever it is.

“I’ll grant you it wasn’t the most clever solution, but I may have spent too much time around Gryffindors,” he countered. Eventually, his focus shifted to the still-seething girl. She had a heavy air of anger and disappointment to her, not a healthy mix. She’d fixed Wyatt with a look so sharp that, when he finally returned it, he felt it hold him in place. There was a sense that he couldn’t look away, quietly commanded, and he wondered if he’d personally wronged her before.

Looking at the pair, one at a time, and found he couldn’t formulate a final opinion on them. A boy who could go from pouncing on a kid to a calculated interrogation within seconds and a girl so angry she wastes her time in blind frustration and doesn’t act at all. Though Wyatt had some sympathy. They were first years, they would have time to learn how to manage their tempers. The only thing that unsettled him was his inability to read them. Yet, of course. Maybe in time, he’d understand whatever was going on in their heads, but he didn’t have enough to go off of. A person who doesn’t like being made fun of isn’t special. A couple of sheltered Slytherins going for one of the easiest targets in the wizarding world, non-purebloods, isn’t a special situation. So what was interesting here?

“If there’s something you want to say to my housemates about their egos, I suggest you do it yourself. However, I wouldn’t be too quick to judge. Neither of you introduced yourselves, so either you’ve something to hide or lost your manners,” he accused, his tone far less harsh than his words. Wyatt wasn’t one to expect kindness and wasn’t looking for anything in return for his help. It was its own reward, being able to spray a couple of mini blood purists with the water-making spell. Something clicked. Perhaps their hostility toward him was a result of his interrupting their moment to put that Gryffindor bravery on display. Wyatt relaxed his arms, allowing one of his hands to casually fall into a pocket, the rest of his body still as a statue.

“Don’t tell me you’re disappointed you didn’t get the chance to take care of them yourselves? There will be other opportunities, trust me,” he promised, his voice light and just on the verge of mocking, to the point it was debatable whether he was teasing or warning. “I’m sure you could arrange to deal with those two specifically, if you wanted. But what will that prove?” Only that you care.

Mentioned: n/a
Intreracting: @Sanguinius Demarest @Meiyu Xiang

Meiyu’s eyes narrowed in disagreement as Wyatt spoke, his dismissive tone only fueling the embers of her irritation. Though the sharpness in his words pricked at her, she kept a cold and unfazed composure, refusing to let him see the full extent of her frustration, despite reacting with anger earlier. As he continued for what seemed like a while, casting judgment about loyalty and mocking her unspoken emotions, her eyebrows raised, it was clear the older boy had a superiority complex, possibly due to his age and evidently due to his house.

When he suggested she confront his fellow housemates herself, Meiyu’s lips curled into a slight smirk. It wasn’t a smile of amusement, but one of bitter understanding. His insinuations were clear; she lacked the courage, the wit, or maybe even the desire to act on her anger.

“How noble of you,” she replied, her voice smooth but laced with sarcasm. “You swoop in, save the day thinking you're our saviour, and now you think you have got us all figured out? Typical.” She took a step closer, her gaze unwavering as she met Wyatt’s eyes. “But you’re wrong. If I had something to say to them, trust me, I wouldn’t hide behind anyone else to do it. Unlike you, I don’t need to play games to prove my blood worth.”

Her words were cold, but calculated, reflecting the icy shield she had built over years of guarding herself. She wasn’t about to let some smug upperclassman, Slytherin or not, reduce her to a seething, reactive child, though her rationality argued that with her prior behaviour, he was right. Meiyu refused to give him that satisfaction. It was as though something had shifted in Meiyu, had any of her family seen her behaviour in this moment in time, they would fail to recognise their beloved little girl.

"As for my manners," she continued, her tone sharpening slightly, her posture instinctively straightening itself as though she was at a family dinner, "accept my sincerest apologies, for not introducing myself while your housemates were busy spewing venom like the vermin they are." She shot him a pointed look, upon brief reflection, the young girl had realised that the two Slytherins who had now dispersed were not worthy of the effort it would take to defend her bloodline.

There was a beat of silence as Wyatt continued, and then she added with a raised eyebrow, “Disappointed? No. I don’t waste energy on people who think bloodlines make them better.” Her gaze flicked briefly to the other Gryffindor, the memory of her fellow housemate almost getting into a physical altercation still fresh. “But don’t mistake my restraint for weakness.”

Meiyu felt a surge of conflicted emotions. Part of her admired Wyatt’s indifference, his ability to be unbothered by the same arrogance she despised. But another part of her — the part that still held onto her need for control and perfection — recoiled at the thought of anyone seeing her as fragile or incapable.

“You’re right, though,” she said after a pause, her tone softening but only slightly. “There will be other chances. Maybe next time, I’ll actually care enough to take them up on it.” She let the sentence hang, ambiguous, as if dismissing the entire ordeal, focusing on getting closer to Sanguinius, as though the pair would team up together in a duel against one.

Meiyu wouldn’t give anyone, not even Wyatt, the satisfaction of seeing her unravel, for some reason she felt as though she had to prove herself, that she was not weak and short-tempered, despite her earlier actions insinuating the latter.