Listen, little fella...

Tim Mercer 7th year Gryffindor American Exchange Student Resident Rabble-Rouser Need I go on?

[not-your-damsel-blog]

Fire at the Disco || Tim & Meg

[not-your-damsel-blog]

Meg was still holding her wand when she had fallen on the ground, She shook her head and groaned, this whole battle thing was getting really old. “Oh my fucking god, ow…” she moaned as she tried to lift her head, whoever had been fighting them were wrapped up in another duel now, they we safe for the moment…

…except they weren’t. 

There was a sickening groaning beneath them and she saw cracks forming along the ground. Her heart stopped. The floor was going to cave in. FUCK, TIM! With a gasp she pointed her wand at who was probably her one and only friend, casting a propulsion charm she knocked him out of the way just in tim to avoid him falling through the floor with her…

[aint-no-rat]

Tim was not prepared to be ripped away from her again, his fingers closing on nothing but air as she knocked him back.  The breath was knocked out of him as he hit the ground again, and it took him a long minute before he could get back on his feet.  Where Meg had been, there was now just a giant gaping hole--both there in the castle and suddenly in his heart.  “You’re fucking kidding me right now!  Fucking--Meg!  Meg!”  Tim all but threw himself down the hole, leaning over the edge and scanning the rubble for any sign of his friend.  The dust made it hard to see, as did the darkness.  He couldn’t find her anywhere.  “Meg!  You bitch! I can’t believe it!  I can’t believe you just did that to me! God fucking dammit!”

He slammed his fist against the lip of the opening, slicing his hand open on the jagged edges of rock and hissing at the sensation of it.  Part of him didn’t blame her.  He would have done the same--he would have saved her.  But he was livid all the same, because by saving him she had made it impossible to save her.  They were friends--best friends, maybe, in his mind.  He fucking cared about her.  Another explosion rocked the area where he was, rocks and other debris skittering about as they were knocked loose.  Tim swore loudly, wiping at his face and pushing himself away from the hole in case it grew bigger.  In his rush to do so, he lost his grip on his wand--it hit the ground and bounced away from him, rolling off out of his reach.  Footsteps were rapidly approaching, fleeing from yet another explosion that came booming from where he and Meg had been not too long ago.  Friend or foe?  Tim sure as hell didn’t know.  He wasn’t too sure he cared, either.

Timothy wiped his bleeding hand on his jeans, then started crawling towards his wand.  If he could just get there before whoever was on their way got there, he’d be okay.  He’d make it away from this, he could try to get down the hole and get Meg.  It would be okay.  His mind briefly wandered to Duran.  Was he safe?  Was he okay?  He was a smart kid, he probably got out just fine.  He knew when to fold.

A few spells whizzed overhead, missing their marks and sending more castle stone crashing down around him.  Tim just barely missed being crushed by a rock that fell just to his right, in front of his shoulder.  “Holy fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, giving himself one last push towards his wand.  It was right there.  He was so close.

“Shit!  Shit! It’s a student, stop!  Stop!”

Tim’s fingers curled around the end of his wand just as the curse struck him.

And he was so close, too.  Friendly fire was a bitch.

[not-your-damsel-blog]

Fire at the Disco || Tim & Meg

[not-your-damsel-blog]

“Ugh, my leg’s fine Tim, there’s nothing wrong with it,” it wasn’t the truth, it certainly throbbed but they couldn’t afford to think of that right now. “We’re headed towards the astronomy tower,” she said frantically, “that backs up us into a corner, we need to go left!” she tugged him down another hallway with little regard for his arm, after all, he could get over a sore arm, you couldn’t get over dying. A concussive blast from behind them sent meg in the air and she landed face first on the ground again. 

[aint-no-rat]

“Fuck, okay.”  Tim let her jerk him around, scrambling to try and stay on his feet.  Shit, that was almost bad.  He didn’t want to think about what would have happened if he had led them up there.  Good thing Meg was there.  The American swore again as he was knocked off of his feet, the combination of the force of Meg being ripped from his grasp and the force of the explosion proving too much for his balance.  His teeth rattled as his chin bounced off of the ground, and he felt for a moment like he had bit through his lip--not quite, it turned out.  Just almost.  The taste of iron quickly filled his mouth and he spat, scrunching up his nose.  “Oh shit.  Okay.  Meg?  Meg?”  He squinted,  His ears were ringing, his head fuzzy.  His own voice sounded muffled to him--everything did.  It was quieter, somehow.  “Hey, Meg.”  He saw her lying a few feet away from him and he squirmed his way over to her, army crawling to her side and grabbing her arm with both hands.  “Megara you better fucking answer me, or I swear to God I will wake you up just to kick your ass.”

[not-your-damsel-blog]

Fire at the Disco || Tim & Meg

[not-your-damsel-blog]

She let him pull her to her feet and immediately grabbed his hand, dragging him down a hallway once she could tell where they were. “This way!” she said as they reached a weird looking statue of a dragon and a sheep. She tried pressing the nose of the dragon but the passage way wasn’t opening. “Oh jesus fucking christ, who the fuck broke this god damned piece of shit, now is not the fucking time for this!” she complained frantically. 

[aint-no-rat]

Tim bounced on his heels as he watched her, glancing over their shoulders to see if they were being chased or not.  The smoke was too thick to see through.  “Meg, we gotta hurry.  We don’t have the time to wait on this passage.”  Were those footsteps?  Or other duels?  Tim wasn’t entirely sure, but he didn’t want to find out, either.  “Fuck.  Fuck. Uh, which way do we go from here?  This way?”  He didn’t give her time to reply, darting off in that direction anyway.  His lungs were starting to burn, his chest seizing up.  Holy fuck, shit, god fucking dammit.  He was definitely going to quit smoking.  Jesus Christ. “You okay?  How’s your leg?”

[not-your-damsel-blog]

Fire at the Disco || Tim & Meg

[not-your-damsel-blog]

She followed, her wand at the ready, “as good as I can be, how about you?” she coughed in the smoke. “Do you know where you’re going?” she asked as she glanced all around them, trying not to miss any possible threats but the screams and debris clouded her senses, and it made it hard to think and register what she was seeing.

“Ugh!” she gasped as suddenly something wrapped around her leg and pulled her too the ground with a thud, a cloud of ash forming around her on impact. She turned around to see a wizard…witch? it was too dusty, she couldn’t tell, with a whip that had sprouted from the end of their wand. “Fuck!” she complained before casting incendio to free herself. 

[aint-no-rat]

“Never better,” he mumbled back with a grin.  He stepped around some of the larger rubble, squinting against the haze.  “Nah, not a clue.  I was just trying to find people.”  Tim had no plans, really.  Fight the bad guys.  Save the good guys, if he found any that needed saving.  That was about it.  Besides, with all of the smoke and his own lack of familiarity with the castle, Tim had been lost for a decent amount of time.  He wasn’t sure where he was at all, so finding someone who had more experience with the castle was a godsend.  He really appreciated Meg’s presence in this moment.

“Fuck, Meg!”  He reached for her as she went down, trying to help her back to her feet as she freed herself from the snare.  Tim scanned the smoke for the enemy who’d attacked them, struggling to find anything at first.  Once he found them, he cast a quick disarming spell, hoping it hit the mark while he started pulling Meg away.  That should buy them some time--at least, enough time to get to a spot with better visibility.

[not-your-damsel-blog]

Fire at the Disco || Tim & Meg

The school had become light, dark, the metallic smell of blood and an unstoppable shaking. She cast a fighting curse at a group of vampires incapacitating them as she made her way through the school alone, desperately trying to find someone she knew, it would make it easier if she had someone she could just focus on protecting. From the other side of a cloud of smoke she could barely make him out, “TIM!” she called out to him as she made her way over, narrowly avoiding a falling boulder. 

[aint-no-rat]

“Holy fuck,” he sputtered, coughing through the smoke.  Was this what his lungs felt like?  He’d have to quit smoking.  Once this was over, he was definitely quitting.  Holy shit.  Timothy spat, then started away from his now finished duel.  Dueling was his thing--these people didn’t have shit on him.  When he heard his name, Tim whipped his head around, trying to find the source--there, there!  He spotted Meg running over, debris tumbling around them, and ran to meet her halfway.  “Holy shit, Meg. You have no idea how glad I am to see you,” he called back, grabbing her by the arms for a brief moment before pulling her into a hug.  Almost immediately he let her go again, jerking his head back towards the direction he came from and heading that way.  It should be safe there.  Or at least, safer than it was right here, with everything crashing down around them.  “You good?”

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

Airborne Banksys || Tim & Zarina

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

“I can tell you were one of those kids who played cowboys and Indians growing up,” she said with a chuckle after his ‘spy’ remark. If she was going to do this with anyone she was glad it was Tim. He always listened to her, well most of the time, and he always had a sly remark in his back pocket to keep up with her own. After a few turns on the broom and a close encounter of almost knocking a painting off the wall, they finally made it to the Great Hall.

Zarina landed softly on the ground and rested her broom on one of the tables. “Alright, this is going to be fun.” The small brunette picked up one of his cans of spray paint and started to shake it. “Do I even want to know why you had these in the first place?” she laughed. “So whatd’ya say, a gigantic down with the Rat propaganda mural?”

[aint-no-rat]

“Nah.  Cops and Robbers.” He shrugged, flying after her and offering a wave of apology to the offended painting they’d nearly damaged.  Hopefully it wouldn’t rat them out, but then again, the painting wouldn’t be too sure who they were anyway.  The robes were a good idea.

Tim touched down beside Zarina, picking up his own can a nd shaking it while he stepped forward to inspect the walls.  “Sounds good, sounds good.  And no, you probably don’t want to know why I had these.” In all honesty, there wasn’t really any reason behind why he was in possession of the paint cans.  He’d asked for some as a joke before, and Cory Thomas had delivered.  Of course, this was before the school had tightened up.  But at least now there was something to use them for.  “You wanna start up top and I’ll work down here?”

[not-your-damsel-blog]

-waiting in the calm before the storm-

[not-your-damsel-blog]

Oh please, Europe’s been doing this kinda shit since before America was even a thought in it’s parent’s minds.

[aint-no-rat]

Guess you’re not wrong.

[not-your-damsel-blog]

-waiting in the calm before the storm-

[not-your-damsel-blog]

-smirks-

Yeah, well it wouldn’t be a quality education if there wasn’t a good war, at least not on this side of the pond.

[aint-no-rat]

Gotta say, you guys go full out tryin’ to one up us Yanks.

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

Airborne Banksys || Tim & Zarina

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

Before embarking on their flight to the Great Hall, Zarina was silently going over weak spots in their plan. The mission was to make their mark on the school, not get expelled from it. The Slytherin came up with two big potentially problematic questions: What if the brooms gave way, and how were they going to escape without being recognized? However, Zarina has always been good with solving problems and quickly came up with solutions. As for the brooms, a classic flight charm should renew their power for a while. And as for getting in and out on the down low… it was time to bring the old uniforms back into play. “We’re going to have to make a quick detour. Follow me, and keep up.” 

Zarina immediately hopped on the broom closest to her and took off towards the Slytherin common room. Once they got close enough, she lowered her broom and landed, ordering Tim to do the same. “Stay here don’t move.” She took off into the common room and ran to get 2 pairs of her old robes before the new uniforms were set and ran back to Tim, throwing one at him. “Come on slow poke, put that one, get the hood over your head, jump on the broom and lets go!”

[aint-no-rat]

Tim did as instructed, shaking his head at her as she took charge but following along an easy grin.  She knew the school better than he did, and clearly she was having ideas about something.  She hadn’t steered them wrong the last time in the forest, and he trusted her to do the same here.  Besides, even if she did, he wasn’t too concerned.  What was the worst that could happen?  He get expelled?  It wasn’t an issue.  With the school the way it was, he wasn’t sure it really mattered.  And besides, it wouldn’t affect him.  He’d just go back to the states, and they would never know the difference.  He’d just say her passed his classes, take some test, get his acknowledgement of completion from Salem.  Easy stuff.  School was the least of his worries.

When she ordered him not to move, Tim just arched his eyebrows at her--she was gone before he could get a word out.  “Woah, hey!  Give a guy some warning,” he laughed, fumbling with the robe she threw at him and struggling to fly and put it on at the same time.  “Good idea.  This’ll work.  Besides, now we look kind of like spies.  James Bond, or something.  OR, uh.  John McClane.  But he wasn’t a spy--just an American hero.”

[not-your-damsel-blog]

-waiting in the calm before the storm-

[aint-no-rat]

Some night, huh?  And here I thought I was just coming for a quality education.

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

“Hmm, how about we go… Airborne Banksy.” Zarina said before walking over to a dusty, corner closet and opening up the door to reveal two flying broomsticks. They weren’t exactly in ‘new condition’ but would still fly nonetheless. 

[aint-no-rat]

“Holy. Shit. I love you.  Let’s do it.”

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

“So I’ve been told,” she said jokingly and nudged him lightly in return. “Graffiti? I like it. We can add our own magical spark to it to make it really stand out. And what better place to liven things up then the Great Hall? Its been looking a little gloomy in there since Rattigan’s been changing things left and right.”

[aint-no-rat]

“Perfect.  I like it.”  He grins, then glances over her shoulder out the door.  The halls seemed to be clear for now.  “What do you say?  Wanna go be Banksy?”

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

“You never said you didn’t,” she said with a smile knowing they were about to get into some trouble. “Plus you can’t do anything right without me anyway. Who says we can’t make it bigger? So come on, out with it then.”

[aint-no-rat]

“Damn, you’re good.”  He laughed, knocking her with his elbow.  At least he wasn’t about to go down alone for whatever trouble they were about to get in.  “I got my hands on some spray paint, so I was thinking maybe we could liven up these old walls.  You in?”

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

Zarina scoffed, “Pfft, okay. Cooler huh? You’ve caught my attention. Have you got something in mind? Or do I always have to be the one who comes with the plans?” Zarina smirked teasingly and leaned slightly against a bookcase. “Me? Possibly something revolutionary but you don’t need to know about that.”

[aint-no-rat]

“Wow, way to leave me in the dark.”  He laughs, waving her off and shaking his head.  “I didn’t have anything too big in mind.  But who says I wanna include you, huh?”

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

Zarina looked at the time and cringed a little. Shit. Oh well. “You? Trying to stay out of trouble? That’s a first, never thought I’d hear that one. Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.” Zarina walked around him so that his attention was turned away from the dust. “What are you doing snooping about anyway?”

[aint-no-rat]

“Me? Soft?  Never!   I’m just trying to save my trouble for something cooler than the fuckin’ curfew.”  Tim scrunched up his face, glancing over her shoulder briefly but deciding he didn’t really care what she was doing and instead turning to face her.  “Not snooping.  Hiding out from the fuzz.   You?”

[most-inquisitive-fairy]

Zarina knelt down a bit to get on eye level with the small bowl of blue dust in front of her. She twisted the tweezers through her fingers and very delicately pick up a single grain of the blue dust and hovered it over the the mixture she was making. Just as the girl was about to drop it in, she heard a voice she knew all to well and would recognize anywhere. “Whoa, whoa, whoa– no,” she said quickly putting her tool down and walking over to him trying to block his view. “Who said you could come in here? This is my business, Tim.”

[aint-no-rat]

“Woah, woah.  Relax, will you?  I’m just trying to stay out of trouble.  If you haven’t noticed, it’s past curfew.”  Tim held his hands up innocently, jerking his head towards the door as he mentioned the curfew.  “Look, I’m minding my own business.  Just don’t get us caught, alright?”

[not-your-damsel-blog]

“Good, if word get’s out why I did it people might start to pity me and I don’t want that. I’d rather they just hate me.”

[aint-no-rat]

“Got it.  But you’re gonna have to put up with me not hating you, because it’s illegal for New Yorkers to hate their friends.  Tough break, kid.”