InsaneJournal

WHO: Kevin Entwhistle and Delilah Selwyn
WHAT: Kevin's in Delilah's hiding spot.
WHEN: [BACKDATED] January 27, 1998
WHERE: An abandoned room in hogwarts
RATING: I'd say high for violence, language, and slurs
STATUS: Finished

Life was overwhelming. But it was almost done with, wasn’t it? Delilah had started Hogwarts on a lie. She was a muggleborn, she wasn’t even sure how she got magic. It must not be true, what they said about stealing wands from wizards, because she had no recollection of doing that… But somehow that wasn’t a comforting thought. She was still impure, disgusting. She’d been hiding that part of herself since she could remember. Her parents had adopted her on so many conditions, but she was so excited to be adopted she accepted… And then they found out she was a muggleborn, and life had been pretty shit since then.

So sometimes, even though her school preface was Queen Bee and Purist and Bitch, she needed to get out. Be alone. Think without interruption, without questions. Six and a half long years of suppressing her true nature, of lying to her house mates. She felt pure, she FELT like a Pureblood. She was strong, magically speaking, and talented. She was an exceptional duelist, full of Slytherin pride and ambition. So what if she was an abomination? That didn’t mean she couldn’t help rid the world of muggleborns and muggles alike. It was about Wizard domination.

She could still do it.

But it was all these roundabout conversations with herself, sometimes it felt like she was going to explode. Like she was going to suffocate right there on the spot. She didn’t say anything to anyone as she left the Dungeons, throwing her cloak hastily over her clothing and heading out into the castle. She’d wandered around for hours before she settled on an abandoned room of sorts - the door was somewhat broken and there were odd pieces of semi-broken furniture in there as well, like a storage closet for sad and half broken things. It was one of her favorite places to go and think, no one ever went in there. Except this time, there was someone in there. She could see just past a broken mirror, in its splintered reflection, the back of someone’s head.

“Get out.”

---

Kevin tensed at the intrusion. That actually wasn’t the first time he’d heard that. He heard it a lot. He’d gotten good at ignoring it. He turned, moving, to identify the voice, his mouth already parting with a smartass retort. The retort didn’t come when he noticed who it was, though. The purist queen herself? Finding an abandon room so forgotten nobody cared to fix it? It was common for him to find random rooms to sit in for hours, to do his homework away from the others, so they didn’t take it from him and destroy it in front of him. This was just a random room he chose because nobody came here - at least he thought nobody did.

“Oi, what the fuck are you doing here?” Kevin asked. He had his books in his hands, but he wasn’t budging. He’d stopped listening to orders like that, and he’d stopped censoring his language to make himself seem better than he was.

---

Oh. It was Kevin. Delilah wished she had never walked in, now. Kevin brought up a lot of things for her - she hated him, for being muggleborn. How could she not, being who she was? How she was raised? But then, she also sympathized with him, and understood. She was a muggleborn, too. Not that anyone knew. It was precisely why, though she was horrid to nearly everyone, she never picked on him much. And she never started it, either, when people did pick on him. Because she was just like him - she could be just like him, if everyone found out. She’d be ostracized the same way he was, if not worse, given her status at this point.

“None of your business, that’s what. Honestly, don’t you people have any manners? Asking a girl about her private business like you have any right.” She rolled her eyes, before she reached for her wand and drew it from the pocket of her robes, lazily pointing it half-heartedly in his direction. “Get out, or I’ll hex you.” She said simply. This was her space, damnit, and he wasn’t going to take that from her.

---

He wasn’t even surprised that after telling him to get out, she insulted him for his manners. That was generally the way it went. “Oh, you people,” he echoed, arching an eyebrow. And then he watched her take out her wand and point it at him, and eyed it. That was nowhere near an idle threat in this house. Half the time, that alone was enough to convince Kevin to keep his mouth shut and keep to himself. The other half - well, he ended up hexed. He was just a little rubbish at combat magic.

“That’s a lot of effort for a rubbish room, isn’t it, love?” He said, still unmoving. He didn’t pull out his wand. It wasn’t unusual, for him to show both defeat and defiance. “I don’t see why we both can’t coexist in the garbage heap of this room, we do the same in our common room enough.” Barely.

---

He wasn’t trying to defend himself, but he wasn’t leaving either. She wasn’t above hexing someone who didn’t have their wand out, but she wasn’t going to do it here, either. It could break more stuff in the room, and she was sort of fond of everything. Delilah sat there for a moment, internally debating on what to do. Hex him, or not. On any day, in any other situation where other people might be watching her, Delilah would have probably been a bit more vehement with him. But not tonight, when she was feeling so conflicted.

“Don’t call me love. I’m not your love, I’m not even your friend.” They were barely House mates, as she felt he didn’t deserve to be in the house at all. Which meant she felt she didn’t deserve it, either, despite her ideals. She embodied everything Slytherin was except for being a pureblood, which no one knew. It was all very confusing and frustrating for Delilah, even though it had been nearly seven years.

“Fine. Stay, then. But you keep to yourself over there, and don’t fucking bother me.” She said, plopping down on the half-broken couch. It was only slightly broken, with a spring popped out in the middle. But the part that wasn’t broken was quite comfortable. Putting her wand away, she slumped and put her head in her hands, sighing.

---

Love, for many Englanders, even those way off in Derbyshire, was such a common idiom that it applied to lovers, to friends, to strangers, and in Kevin’s case, to people who would sooner see you dead than befriend you. “My apologies then,” he said, a muted tightness to his words. It couldn’t really be taken as a slight, because he was very much aware that she wasn’t his love, or his friend.

There was something about this room, or something about the ambiguity of it, that made Delilah want to stay there, even if he was there. That was a big deal, when so many people would rather leave the common room than sit in the same room as him when they didn’t have to. So he went back to where he’d been, sitting off to the side, against a wall, and laid out his course work again.

Once he’d set up his books and his parchment again, he let his gaze shift back toward Delilah and watched her. Well, that was certainly a position he didn’t often get to see many Slytherins in. Slumped and sighing. That was probably a sign of weakness or something. That, more than the threat, kind of made him want to leave now.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked, purposefully optimistic, as if she had just threatened to hex him and told him that they weren’t friend and to stop bothering her.

---

“Good.” Delilah didn’t really care about his apologies, or about him. But her snappy-ass responses were permanently ingrained in her at this point. He went back to working and she was just fine with that. The sound of his quill scratching parchment wasn’t even bothersome. The only thing was that sometimes she talked aloud to herself, which might seem crazy, but totally wasn’t. But since he was here, she remained quiet. She really had wanted to let off some steam, and now he was ruining that.

And then he asked if she wanted to talk about it. She looked back at him, her deadpan face revealing nothing but slight dislike. “Excuse me?” She replied, standing up from the couch and walking over towards him. “What makes you think I’d want to talk to you?” She sneered, glancing at his work just briefly before returning attention to him, head leaning to the right in a clearly bitch please kind of fashion.

“And besides, asking that implies I’m having some sort of problem, which I’m not. I’m perfect. Everything is perfect.” For being such a good liar, sometimes she was a really, really terrible liar.

---

It probably didn’t say anything good about him, that it was so easy for him to ignore the sneer in her tone. He didn’t move. Usually he would have, but he’d found that lunging for his parchment only made it much more likely that someone would take it and set it on fire. That probably didn’t say anything good about him either. He was finding it harder to find good things to say about him, when this was his mentality for most of the day, but he was too stubborn to admit it.

The parchment was littered with his sloppy penmanship, and his inability to completely filter out speech only inherently common in Derbyshire. The longer he was here, it seemed, the harder it was to separate himself from that, as if he didn’t really want to anymore.

“Yeah, that sounded genuine,” he said dryly. “Asking that implies, contrary to the way this house works, that I possess empathy and can think for two seconds about people that exist outside of meself, yeah? You’re not perfect. You’re a liar. And a rubbish one at it.”

---

“Empathy, right.” She said, unable to keep herself from rolling her eyes again. “Even if you did possess that quality, why would you have that for me?” She asked, though the question was rhetorical. She didn't really know or care to be honest. “And I’m a fantastic liar, just too tired to give a shite about that at all right now.” Once more she glanced at his homework and scoffed, looking at his atrocious penmanship and the slang that kept popping up.

“Do you do all your homework like this? It’s rubbish, mate, seriously. How do they even read that?” She asked, more interested in insulting him or at least keeping the conversation focused on him instead of her. She would probably get mocked for talking to him at all, but no one was around to see it.

And she hoped no one caught them in here, because that would raise all sorts of questions and accusations she didn’t want to deal with. Despite her attitude and purist beliefs, she never wanted to be the worst - the most notable. She left that for Malfoy, and Nott. Because the less attention paid to her, the better.

---

He didn’t see it as a rhetorical question, because what kind of question was that? “Empathy doesn’t work like - what do you mean it’s rubbish,” he asked, distracted. He glanced down at his work. “Looks legible enough to me,” he said dismissively. They weren’t being graded on how neatly they could write their letters and numbers here, now were they. “I’d write a tad share better if I weren’t writing with a bloody feather like the Dark Ages, now wouldn’t I be.” Penmanship didn’t matter, if the questions were answered correctly, and he could do that just fine. It didn’t have to look pretty. “Making it look pretty tends to take a backseat when it ends up destroyed half the time,” he added, somewhat bitterly.

---

“Of course that’s not how it works.” She spat back, rolling her eyes. She still didn’t see what it had to do with her, though. She didn’t want his sympathy, or empathy, or whatever. She found herself feeling particularly disgusted whenever she looked at him - he represented her in a way that she wish she could actually be, but was completely unable to be. She hated it, hated him, for the way she grew up. Despite him having nothing to do with it at all.

“Legible, maybe.” She responded, grabbing her wand and flicking it at the paper. “Tergeo.” She said, her voice still harsh. But it wasn’t to damage it - no, it was a siphoning spell. All the stupid blots and dirt and rubbish on the papers that were making his writing even more illegible because he was ill equipped to write with a Quill, disappeared. “Germino.” At once, multiple copies of his homework burst out.

“Protean.” She attempted, though she wasn’t sure the spell worked. It was NEWT level, and she had only had minor success at it. She didn’t say anything. What she had basically just done was make sure he had more than one copy in case someone destroyed the first, and made it so when he wrote, if the spell had even worked, it would show up on the other parchment bits as well.

“What do you mean, it’s a Quill not a feather, idiot.”

---

Delilah pulled out her wand and Kevin tensed, thinking maybe she reconsidered not hexing him, and then she flicked it at the parchment, and he said ‘Hey’ automatically, because that had definitely happened way more times than it should of. But then he watched, as the blemishes, the blots, the errors on the parchment disappeared, making it look cleaner by miles than it had before. “Oh,” he said, a lot more quieter than his initial response had been. He stared on as multiple copies appeared, and blinked down at them. He wasn’t entirely positive what the fuck exactly was going on right now, and it confused the hell out of him.

He looked up at her just in time for her to insult him while he was staring at her. “It’s a fucking feather,” he said. “Why’d you do that?”

---

She noticed that he tensed, but paid it no attention. She had seen his homework and other property be destroyed enough times she knew what he was expecting. And any other time, in front of other people, she might have done just what he thought. But instead, she fixed it. She didn’t know why, she didn’t really care why. She didn’t look too deeply at her motivations because she wouldn’t understand them.

“Because.” She shrugged, not having a real answer. She didn’t know. She really didn’t. Delilah hardly knew why she did anything these days. She wanted to go off and join Lady Noir the second she left Hogwarts, revive the Death Eaters, something when she left - but she felt it was impossible. They would find out she was a muggleborn, and what would happen then? She’d spent her whole life pretending to be something she wasn’t, and at her age? There was never going to be any forgiveness, second chances given. She’d more than worn out her purist welcome.

“What on earth else would you write with? Merlin, you’re a strange fellow. You could say thank you like a proper lad.” She suggested, waving her hand as if she expected him to follow that order immediately, and the wave suggested he obviously should be thanking her. “Get on with it, then.”

---

Kevin smirked, forcing himself to relax slightly. “Not much of a proper lad, though, am I,” he said. “Muggles write with contraptions much like these, without as much feathers. Come with the ink already in ‘em. It’s damn near magical ‘emselves, they are.” They were bloody pens, that’s what else you wrote with, that’s what he wrote with when he went home. He wrote with pens, on sheets of paper. Every week he came back was like whiplash, having to slip back into the wizarding world, having to remember that he existed in both of these worlds. Whatever joy he might’ve found at the beginning, embracing all the peculiarities of the world was washed away when his own house had turned on him.

Then he tipped his head. “You have me deepest gratitude, love,” he said, and he sounded a lot more genuine than she had when she’d claimed to be perfect. “However can I repay you.”

---

“And you think muggles do things better, do you?” She said, instantly disgusted once more. But that did actually sound nice, ink already inside them. But they had magical quills that did the same sort of thing, they were just a bit more expensive. His homework did look a sight nicer, and she frowned at it. Maybe she should destroy it, just for good measure. But no one would ever find out about this, right? Because she, a Pureblood Selwyn (ha) could not be seen helping a disgusting muggleborn like Kevin.

“You can repay me by not mentioning this to anyone. Ever.” She replied, firmly. “Or I promise you, you’ll wish you had left when I first told you to.” She replied. And it wasn’t like her threat was idle - in fact, Delilah followed up like that on nearly every threat she had ever uttered. She was not one to back down, she had no cowardice or conscience when it came to things like this. She had pretty much shut down all those sort of happy good feelings before she even came to Hogwarts.

“Anyway, it wasn’t even that hard. Quite honestly you should be able to do that spell to clean it up a bit in your sleep.”

---

Kevin’s face fell as he realized what he’d just done. He had no conflicted emotions when it came to who he was. He was in his seventh year, and he’d five years to come to terms with being muggleborn. But you never talk about muggle in a positive light to a Slytherin, and he usually was good at that. Since slytherins tried not to talk to him. “I didn’t say that,” he said automatically, defensively. Muggles were at the disadvantage, as they didn’t have magic to fix things like broken bones, but it wasn’t like muggles were behind on the times either.

It wasn’t surprising that she didn’t want anybody to know about this. She probably didn’t want anybody to know that she spoke to him at all. But threats weren’t always necessary with Kevin. He didn’t have to be scared into obeying - especially when threats tended to have the opposite effect on him than intended. “Well, since you asked nicely,” he said, back to being sarcastic, because that his natural disposition. “I suppose I can do that. Wouldn’t want to sully the reputation of a pure blood queen and all that.”

The spell probably was easy, and he wasn’t bad at all spells. He just wasn’t the best at defensive spells. He could do charms and transfiguration just fine. He just hadn’t thought to - and after five years, he really should’ve thought of it, when Delilah had thought of it within two seconds of his mentioning it. He was supposed to be more resourceful than that, he was supposed to be more clever, and it annoyed him a lot more than he let on. He’d just been distracted by someone who hated him doing something nice for him, for what seemed to be - no reason at all. He didn’t get that often and he didn’t know how to react to it.

---

She watched as his face deteriorated from whatever ridiculous look he had been giving to her prior to something more akin to dread. Not fear, so much, but an ah, here we go sort of look. She watched him curiously, arms folded across her chest though her wand was still very much out. “I thought so.” Was her response, because she didn’t want to hear anything against Wizards, or how Muggle things were better. She didn’t want to hear anything about muggles at all. Because that could have been her life. And she didn’t want to think about that. About writing with quills as he had described them.

“No I don’t want my reputation ruined because someone thinks I did something nice for a mudblood.” She replied. Even she flinched at the word, just slightly. It wasn’t something anyone would notice, on a usual basis. Because most people were looking for the reaction being called a mudblood, or they were too stunned at the use of such foul language to gauge the effects of using such language had on a person. Though, to be fair, only Delilah would flinch at the usage, particularly given her Purism and the Purist crowd she hung out with.

He didn’t really seem to be considering her remark about his spell work at all, and she just sat there sort of staring at him. Despite everything, he was still sort of nice, wasn’t he? He defied everything she knew about Slytherins, about Hogwarts, about Purebloods and whatever. He took her statements and her degradations without so much as a blink. “Why are you doing your homework here, anyway? This, for future reference, is my favorite spot. I plan to come here again.”

---

Kevin was great at ignoring the tone people used on him, but for some reason - that word - a word he didn’t even grow up with - still got to him. He flinched, his eyes immediately dropping. He missed the way Delilah flinched, too distracted by the word. So much for taking her statements and degradations without so much as a blink - he’d been doing so well before. He didn’t respond to it, the word silence him, and then he swallowed hard and pretended he didn’t even hear it because he didn’t know what else to do.

“I’m doing my homework here because I can’t do it in the common room.” For obvious reasons that she already knew about. Then he lifted his gaze to meet hers and there was a firmness there that hadn’t been a minute ago. “I plan on coming here again, for future reference. You don’t get to own every inch of the school that you see fit just because you’re a Slytherin.”

---

That. That infuriated her. She dropped her arms to her sides, lifting her wand hand just slightly as she cast a well aimed curse - not at him, not directly. “Waddiwasi,” She breathed, the tone like fire in her voice. A broken bit of some decorative bobble or something flew from its spot on the floor straight at him. Along with that, she threw out a careless “Silencio.” So he couldn’t reply to her, either. “Don’t you dare sit there, and tell me what I can and cannot do.” She replied, furious.

It was sort of one thing that set her off, particularly on nights like these when she was so full of bullshit, bursting at the seams with all the lies and confusion she felt about her life and heritage, that she couldn’t stand being told what to do. And even more, she didn’t know how to react to anything now without violence, not the way she had grown up. “Seven years I’ve been here, hiding out in this place. It’s mine, Kevin, and don’t you fucking forget it.”

She was, perhaps, a bit possessive of her things.

---

He knew it was dangerous, to tell a slytherin what to do - for anyone, but even more so for him. Kevin hastily lifted his textbook, managing to block the rubbish she threw at him, but it broke even further on his book, hitting it with a force that would’ve hurt if it’d hit him. He dropped his book and rose to his feet, his own face drawn up into a scowl. If he was going to get beat, he’d rather it happen on his feet - at least until she knocked him off of them. Somehow, that felt more dignified, but he wasn’t sure why.

The problem with being silenced wasn’t that he couldn’t make a smartass retort. Most magic they were taught relied on them saying it out loud. Of course, the problem was also that he had to stand there and listen to her talk without being able to interrupt her. Or respond to her. And he looked furious. He finally had his wand out, but he couldn’t remember taking it out. While Kevin hadn’t drawn a line - he could react to violence with violence extremely easily - he’d never gotten this violent with Delilah before.

What the hell did she have to hide from? And why did he let a stupid name get to him to the point that he was willing to take that place away from someone else? It didn’t matter, he was advanced in Charms - he didn’t need to be advanced in defense, and he didn’t need to speak to say it. And this, more than anything, likely, was a sheer renouncement of all things Slytherin, because it wasn’t meant to hurt her, even if she was threatening him, reminding him of his place, silencing him.

Kevin pointed his wand at Delilah, and nonverbally performed Rictusempra - or in other words, the tickling charm. And he looked pissed as he did it, but he wasn’t a heir to the throne of this dejected house, he didn’t want to make her bleed, but he refused to cow to her either. He refused to give this up without proper reason, and threats had never been a proper reason for Kevin.

---

She was already satisfied with her attack, even if the object didn’t really hit him. She didn’t want to leave a mark, and she expected him to defend himself in some way. But she hadn’t expected him to try anything back - particularly not silenced. Managing nonverbal spells when under stress was exceptionally difficult, and Delilah had been around him long enough to know he didn’t usually retaliate.

So she was completely caught off guard by the flick of his wand and only half-managed to put up her shield. It hit her and ricocheted back to him, though it was probably even less than half as strong as he had cast it. She found herself screaming with laughter, doubled over and giggling uncontrollably.

Bent, clutching her stomach and gasping for air, she pulled out her wand and aimed it at herself. “Fin- hahaha - Finit--- ahahahahaha - Finite In-- hahahaha.” It was no use. After another moment she tried to nonverbally dispel it from herself, but it wasn’t an easy spell to begin with and certainly not one that was easy to dispel nonverbally. She sucked in a deep breath and practically shouted “FINITE INCANTATEM” And the effect wore off - leaving her still half-laughing, but in a more controllably manner.

“For fucks sake, Kevin, you couldn’t have used a different spell?” She said, still gasping for air, the effect of her Silencio spell having worn off completely when she started to laugh.

---

The spell had rebounded, and he hadn’t expected that and didn’t block it. It knocked them both back when it hit them. But it wasn’t nearly as strong as he’d made it, so he didn’t go to his knees, or struggle with dispelling it. If she’d failed, he would have dispelled it for her. But he was smirking when she addressed him regardless. He looked a lot less angry. “You mean be more like my name sake, and made it hurt?” He asked. “I think you got it covered,” he said stiffly. He bent down and gathered his books, folding the parchments to fit into the pages of the books.

“You can have the bloody room,” he said, rising to his feet. “You clearly need it more than I do.”

---

Now that she was done laughing, which even if forced, did happen to lighten her mood a bit, she felt awkward. She couldn’t figure out what she was feeling, actually. She didn’t want to hurt Kevin, because he was like her. Just like her, minus the atrocious upbringing she had suffered at the hands of foster homes, and then at the hands of her own adoptive father. But she hated him, because he represented so many things for her. So many things she had to keep hidden.

“I do.” She agreed, softly. She looked as if she were going to stop him, explain something, tell him something. But she couldn’t. She had her mouth half-open like she was ready to speak, her hand out like she was going to stop him, but she was completely frozen in place. After standing like that for a few moments, she took a step back, looking a little resigned.

“You can use it. When I’m not here, of course.”

---

If she’d had something to say, Kevin probably would’ve stopped for it. He was weird like that - for whatever reason, he just couldn’t conjure up the malice necessary to actually thrive in this environment, and it annoyed the shit out of him, constantly. But she didn’t have anything to explain - which would’ve made a lot more sense than what she actually ended up saying.

After all that fighting and posturing. The confusion clearly showed on his face, as he stopped halfway to the door. He glanced back at her, still very obviously confused. “You don’t think you’ll catch muggle cooties from me or some bullshit?” He asked, and he was so confused, it sounded extremely seriously. Like that was a thing that was possible.

---

She almost didn’t want him to go. Having someone to take her confusions out on was nice, far more constructive than what she had been planning on doing. And the best part was, he wouldn’t tell. Kevin wasn’t the type to tattle-tell about being bullied, and she didn’t have to worry about any backlash from having said or done something to him. Because even if he had friends, he wouldn’t say anything.

But that wasn’t the only reason she didn’t want him to go, but those were thoughts she wasn’t even allowing herself to think, to comprehend. She was shoving everything else into the very far back reaches of her mind where everything she couldn’t handle or deal with or talk about was shoved for the last eleven years.

“It’s not possible.” She replied, not because it wasn’t a thing (even though it wasn’t) but because she already had them, not like she’d tell him that though. “Kevin.” She said, before he left, taking another small step forward. “Why don’t you defend yourself?”

---

Well, at least she wasn’t so paranoid that she actually thought she could catch something from him, like his blood impurity was a virus, contagious. He made to move again when she said his name. He stopped again. If he were to actually think about it, he was still confused as hell. Since when did blood purists stop him from leaving a room? Or ask him questions like that? Like they gave a shit.

“I do,” he said, and the confusion made it into his voice. To be honest, he wasn’t even sure what reality they were in now that he was being asked this question. “I got you to stop just fine, didn’t I?” he asked. “That was me defending meself.”

---

“That was an exception, though. You don’t usually do that. If you did, you wouldn’t have gotten me so easily.” She replied, her head cocked to the side. He was a wonder, he was. How could he stand it? Being in Slytherin, all the hate he received. It was her worst fear, her absolute worst fear to be found out about being a muggleborn. It didn’t matter that she was raised in the wizard world for the majority of her life. It didn’t matter that she was an exceptional witch. They would ridicule her, and ostracize her from everything she knew.

“Not that I would recommend fighting back, not on your own. Not against us.” She said, almost as if she were cautioning him. Because she didn’t want to see him more hurt, more antagonized than he already was. “I’m just curious.” She shrugged and went back to sit on the couch, slumping a little once more. Usually so proper and unlikely to be seen doing anything that would make her seem anything but a pureblood, purist bitch queen, was usually strictly out of the question.

Kevin had somehow seen more of her in these ten minutes than anyone had in all seven years she’d been here.

---

Kevin had felt her fear made into a reality for him. He’d been terrified in the beginning, lonely, hurt and terrified. Never before had he realized how startling being utterly alone was. But that was five years ago, and he’d made peace with it. He had to. It was either make peace with it or be haunted by it the entire time he was here, and he didn’t have time to be haunted by it. He had plans - he had school to focus on and a little loneliness and pain wasn’t going to interfere with that.

“I don’t usually do that with you,” he corrected. “I don’t usually do it in front of a crowd, but who in their right fucking mind would?” That would be a death wish - fighting back alone, against a crowd. He wasn’t that stupid. He was cleverer about it. “But fighting back on my own is about the only serious option I’ve got me, either that or just don’t fight back.” Kevin didn’t move, he didn’t leave, he didn’t move back further into the room.

“Do you want me to fight back?” He asked, turning fully to look at her. “Just curious.”

---

“Why not? Why not me?” She asked. What, did he not think fighting back against her was worth his time? It was relatively infuriating. She sat up a little straighter, a frown cleary crossing her features. For a girl who didn’t display much emotion on her face, she was certainly emoting a lot tonight. It was sort of tiresome. Her facial muscles didn’t get this much of a work out on a normal basis. He was smart enough to not fight crowds, though. It would be a death wish, to fight back like that. She didn’t respect him for it or anything, but he was smart.

He was still half-in, half-out, until he turned towards her fully and asked her if she wanted him to fight back. She considered this for more a moment, standing up herself. Like she were sizing him up, only she was just trying to figure out her own motivations here. She couldn’t, though. She couldn’t figure out what she wanted from him. Sympathy? Like he would ever give her that, even if she told him everything.

“Could be fun, don’t you think?” She finally answered, head cocked slightly to the side.

---

Kevin rolled his eyes. He wasn’t used to walking on eggshells mostly, but damn was it hard to just not offend Delilah. “Fuck’s sake, love,” he said. “Not you because you’re not usually the one attacking me.” He couldn’t tell her that she was small fish in comparison to the others, because there was just no nice way to say that, and saying it wrong would just make it worse. “Do you want me to fight you?” It sounded defensive, and then she stood up and sized him up and stared at him like that, and he stared back at her, blinking.

“Wait, do you want me to actually fight you?” He repeated himself, because it kind of looked like she did. Like it could be fun. He still had his arms full of books, staring at her, looking like he didn’t take that idea serious in the least, because he didn’t.

---

She wasn’t the one attacking him, not usually. Not until they were here, on their own, where she was fighting with demons she shoved away during the day. “Yes, I do.” She finally replied, unblinking. She was looking for a fight, a distraction. She had spent so much of her life defending herself, hiding, and being beaten she wanted to do it on her own terms. She wanted to be the one dishing out the blows instead of taking them.

“What, are you scared Kevin?” She asked, her tone sort of mocking. It was the first smile she cracked the whole time, though it wasn’t a happy smile. It was sort of frightening, really. She took a step closer to him again, wand still in hand, at the ready. This wasn’t the ideal place to have a fight - there was too much stuff in the way, too many things that were going to get broken, smashed to bits and thrown everywhere.

But it would do, if it had to.

---

Yeah, he was a little scared. He was rubbish at dueling. He was great at charms, and that helped a hell of a lot of the time, if only as distraction, but out and out battling - he was rubbish at it. But that wasn’t what scared him. The way she was looking at him and that smile on her face. It was a great look. “I’m not bloody scared,” he said incredulously, because he was a fantastic liar. “I just don’t understand what the hell is happening right now,” he muttered, setting his books aside and pulling out his wand, somehow managing to be both resigned and disgruntled about the whole affair. It was as if it wasn’t even the inevitable pain that bothered him rather than the inconvenience this all was for him.

---

“You’re scared, admit it.” She was a formidable dueler, particularly against other students. She didn’t fair excessively well against the teachers, but all in good time. Delilah took a brief step back as he resigned to dueling, taking out his wand and setting his things down. “What’s happening is that I need a good ol’ distraction and you need to brush up on your dueling skills because quite honestly, I’ve seen you in class and you’re rubbish. Don’t mistake this for help.” She warned, wand out now and ready to do some damage. She gave him a little bow, though it was short and to the point, it obviously pained her to have to bow to him in any capacity, even a dueling one. “Ready?”

---

He did a pretty great job of giving the most confused, halfassed bow anybody had ever given in a dueling capacity. “Yeah, okay,” he said, wand at the ready. A lot of defense spells were actually charms, and he’d managed to master those. He could disarm someone, he could stupify them. But still, at their core, they were defensive. A dual couldn’t just be won with defensive spells. Maybe he could get out of this alive if he just tickled her to death, though.

Delilah didn’t have a lot to worry about, though. He was so used to the backhanded comments that he wasn’t naive enough to consider this inevitable asskicking as an actual intent to help him learn, even if he was going to take it as one. He took them all as a chance to learn. “Do we draw straws to see who goes first or is that not how duels work anymore?”

---

There was no waiting in duels, or deciding who went first. This was it. He said it was ready, and without any hesitation on her part she jabbed her wand in his direction. “Expulso!” She cried out, the intended effect and target being used on Kevin himself. It usually blew up objects, but when used on a person it was like being punched, it would have thrown him back into a wall if it hit him.

Immediately after it was thrown, she nonverbally threw up a shield around herself with a brief flick of her wand. She stood back, holding herself at the ready and keeping her shield up as best she could. They weren’t permanent, so if he dawled it would likely expire before his next attack. Her worst ability by far, was remembering to to put a shield up again.

---

Yep, it made contact. He was thrown back, hitting the wall remarkably well, and dropping down to his knees. One advantage Kevin did seem to have that a lot of Hogwarts students didn’t seem to need was - he took a blow pretty well. Outside of Hogwarts, he still went home to muggles, and still lived in their world, without wands. He knew how to take a hit. Even, it would seem, if that hit came from a magical source. But damn that hurt. It winded him.

“Ow, fucking, son of a bleeding fucking whore, that hurt,” he swore. Yeah, he was dawdling, but just because he was rubbish at dueling didn’t mean he couldn’t make a very vague but accurate guess that after a strike, she’d fall back on a shield. Especially since she wasn’t attacking him immediately. And it also hurt and he needed a minute to recollect himself.

Then he did a bit of motion with his wand, without even getting back to his feet. “Avis Oppugno,” he said. The object, whether it hit the mark was not, was to conjure a flock of birds. It was revealing that he was still falling back on charms rather than dueling good and proper. But this specific charm was not meant to just conjure the flock of birds, it was meant to make that flock attack. A flock of canaries appeared from the end of his wand, flapping noisily in the small room as they zeroed in on Delilah.

---

She was clearly satisfied with her ability to hurt him. It was nice, it felt powerful. And there was nothing quite like feeling powerful. Her shield dropped just moments before she was attacked by a flock of canaries, and she let out a shriek as they tried to peck at her hair and bite her face off with their terrifying beaks. She was mildly phobic of birds. “REDUCTO!” She yelled, blowing up each bird in turn, carefully dancing around the room to avoid them.

As the last bird was exploded she shifted her wand down extremely fast, straight at his shoes, “MSTICULO!” She said, the jinx intended for his shoes. It was a biting jinx, it caused objects to bite things. She thought it was hilarious - she even bought one of the biting teacups from Zonko’s a while back. The bites weren’t legitimately harmful, they wouldn’t draw blood but they still hurt like a bitch and might leave bruises. Fortunately for Kevin, she wasn’t a master of the charm and it would wear off quickly enough.

---

What kind of offensive spell was that? It was a ridiculous jinx that was much more likely to come from Kevin than Delilah. And it, much like the one before it, hurt. He couldn’t dance away from this jinx like the bird murderer could dance away from his, seeing as he was attached to it. He directed his wand at himself, muttered the cheering charm, and decided to not even fuck with it until it wore off. It hurt, but it wasn’t fatal, and because of the effects of the charm, he was totally content with his shoes eating him - he was even happy about it.

And then he quickly redirected his wand and cast the exact same charm at Delilah. She could do with some cheering up and maybe if she was happier, she wouldn’t be so bloody violent about things.

---

He didn’t seem to care much about jinxing her back. It was sort of boring, actually. She wanted to have a good ol’ fight, but he was more content with cheering himself up apparently because he got a nice grin on his face. She rose a brow at him, waiting for a return attack and deciding just to attack him again, when she suddenly felt very cheerful. She didn’t feel like fighting at all. In fact, she was grinning ear to ear in a smile that she wasn’t sure she had ever used for real, aside from that one other time she had a cheering charm used on her for charms class.

“Kevin you’re the worst dueler ever.” She responded, doing her best to shake off the charm. Cheering charms weren’t meant to last very long, but it was difficult to cast a hex when you were feeling so delighted with life. Instead, she went for a less painful spell, for once. “Tarantallegra.” She said, finally feeling the cheerfulness wearing off just slightly. The spell would make him dance, his feet would be nearly uncontrollable. Which, because she felt so happy, was actually pretty funny for her.

She burst out laughing. “This is the most ridiculous duel I’ve ever been in.”

---

He was, but she didn’t sound as mean about it as she usually did. Because hell yeah he was cheering her up and it was working because the next spell wasn’t even painful. It just made him dance against his will, and he was still in the feel good phase of the charm that he didn’t really try to fight it. He kind of just went with the dancing. And Delilah was laughing and that was when he realized that he didn’t hear her laugh too often, not like that.

This was a ridiculous duel. Which reminded him to fix this whole dancing thing before he fell over. “Finite Incantatem,” he said, but it came out as a contented sigh, and dispelled both the charms. “It’s ridiculous, but you still laughed,” he said seriously.

---

“I can’t even duel you.” She said, the cheering charm wearing off. “But I did laugh.” She said, raising a brow. The only person who ever really made her laugh with any genuinity was Daphne, and that was usually in private, too. She was actually surprised that she had laughed so legitimately with Kevin. But it must have just been the spell, right? She couldn’t possibly be having fun with Kevin fucking Entwhistle. It just wasn’t possible. He was scum, disgusting, beneath her.

Right?

“Petrificus Totalis,” She finally said, casting the quick jinx on him because, damnit, she was going to get the last of this and it wasn’t going to end funny. But the jinx was half-hearted, she was feeling sort of weird. Like she couldn’t think straight, and she took a step back, looking as if she had just smelled something awful, or thought of something atrocious. Like, pure disgust on her face. “I should go.” She finally said, sighing.

---

He felt the spell hit him as a tenseness in his muscles, but then it immediately disappeared, which was clearly not the intention of that spell. He saw the disgust on her face, but he read defeat when she spoke. That wasn’t the way he saw this duel ending. He expected more pain until he had to decide if he wanted to forfeit or risk actual injury. Delilah quitting first wasn’t something he saw coming, and it made him instantly suspicious.

And the look on her face bothered him. He’d just made her laugh, made her loosen up for a whole second, and yet that fucking face. Was so fucking familiar now. It was wearing him down, slowly, year by year. “Why? Because you’re losing?” He pressed impatiently. “You gonna run from a duel, from a mudblood?”

---

“Excuse me?” She said, which was clearly said out of malice and not because she hadn’t heard him. He was asking for it now, accusing her of losing like that. She lifted her wand so quick she nearly flung it out of her own hands. Expelliarmus! She thought, nonverbally ripping the wand away from his hand before she cast her next spell. “Fernunculus!” She said. The intent was to cause boils to burst out all over his body. She wanted him to writhe in pain and discomfort.

“Incarerous!” She cried next, a weird heap of rope flying out and binding him up. It was poorly done, so he was probably able to at least move his wand to get himself out of it, but it binded his feet well enough so that he wasn’t able to move and it was, well, annoying at the very least. She had half a mind to jinx him again, and she certainly had her want up to do so again. She was throwing jinxes left and right.

---

Holy shit did they not emphasize how much boils could hurt. He didn’t even have time to react to losing his wand before the pain was blossoming, not just on his face, but under his clothes. He cried out in pain before he could stop himself. Revealing pain was usually a bad move. It revealed weakness, so falling to his knees in pain had to have been an even worse move.

The binding spell was probably entirely unnecessary. For a minute he focused on the pain and didn’t move. But he wasn’t a scared second year now. So he swallowed that pain, buried it deep and silently called up a summoning charm, summoning his wand to him. Maybe it was his self preservation, but instead of freeing himself of the hexes, he focused on Delilah, and this time, it wasn’t ridiculous.

“Flipendo,” he said sharply, his voice still tinged with residual pain, but strong. Then he focused on freeing himself of his bindings, freeing himself of this bloody boil jinx and the pain radiating from it.

---

She was knocked back, running into a half-broken bookcase. It fell over and she stumbled, nearling going with it. Delilah cursed under her breath for letting that get to her. She cast a shield up, begging herself to remember to reinforce it when it went down. She was struggling to decide on a hex - because she wanted to use one that would really, really hurt. But they were starting to crack down on bullying or whatever, and if she maimed him too badly it wouldn’t look good for her.

She finally decided on one, and yelled “Densaugeo!” Which was a particularly funny hex that would cause his teeth to grow at an alarming rate. And just to add insult to injury, (or rather, vice versa) she called out “Ventus!” causing a very large very strong gust of wind to throw him and whatever was around him back towards the wall. Stepping up to him, she looked down at him - her eyes full of malice.

“Don’t you dare try and fool yourself into thinking a fucking mudblood could beat me in a duel.”

---

Kevin was actually pretty surprised that he'd even made contact. Delilah was much better at using shields than he was - which was probably half of dueling and why he did so bad at it. He was struggling to get to his feet, and cast a shield that was so sloppy it didn't block the first hex well enough to the point that the hex broke right through the shield. Then the second one threw him back. He hit the wall about as hard as he'd hit it the first time.

Kevin immediately dropped to his knees, covering his head with his arms, to avoid a splintered table from hitting him. It shattered against the wall above him, showering him with splintered wood. By then, his teeth had grown so large that he couldn't speak near well enough to cast a spell out load, so he had to conduct the counter charm - a shrinking charm - nonverbally.

That hadn't been the insult to injury though. The insult was him, on his knees, low to the ground, covered in wood, and Delilah standing over him, talking down to him. Through the years he'd gotten a great idea of the position he held in this house, but rarely was it ever put into such a nice frame for him. The way he was staring up at her probably revealed it too. Hurt and angry, which was so unlike him.

Kevin was sarcastic, he made smartass comics, and turned everything, especially the insults, into jokes. He wasn't thirteen anymore. He wasn't hurt anymore. He was harder to anger. And he hadn't been angry for most of the duel, he hadn't buckled, he hadn't tried to hurt Delilah, even though this was a great opportunity for that. Until the end. She'd dragged it out of him.

He straightened up, shaking off the splintered wood. "You won," he said, but his tone was controlled, it was stiff, rigid, hard. And he was trying very hard to keep it there, to not let it shake, to not let it reveal anything. "Don't fool yourself into thinking I lost because of my bloodline." He rose to his feet. "You're not better because you're pure. You're better at it 'cause you got somethin' to prove I don't. Bask in it. You're a sodding puppet, Selwyn. Enjoy it."