Tom was more upset that he’d been caught than worried about his upcoming detention. It’d been such a tricky bit of spellwork, too. He fidgeted with his wand (“Try this one: blackthorn and dragon heartstring, 11 and a half inches, rather malleable,” Ollivander had said, two years ago. Then, once it had proven a match for him: “How very interesting.”), half-tempted to finish the spell as his eyes tracked his irate Head of House. The man’s hair was pink, his robes fiercely orange and trailing heaps of glitter. The robes were supposed to change colors, but he’d been interrupted. He glanced at the only other person in the room, a Gryffindor girl in his year. Halliwell. He’d never have guessed she was the one pranking bigots. He thought it was the Weasley twins.
Detention. For a month. With Snape. Cleaning the school cauldrons. Without magic. Shit. Tom regretted the spell just a tiny bit now. After all, he wasn’t just going to sit there while anyone mocked Potter for being an orphan, teacher or no.
He put his wand away, rolled up his sleeves, and started in on the cleaning, stubbornly ignoring the pain from all the welts on his back, mentally calculating how many more he’d receive when he went home for the summer and da found out how much he’d been in detention. “Oi, Halliwell. You a'right?” She looked horrified. “The cauldrons aren’t that bad.” He hoped she couldn’t somehow tell he had lycanthropy. He really didn’t want to get expelled.
Prue had spent a few detentions here in these dungeons – sometimes for nothing more than changing the recipe of a potion that could’ve used a bit of tweaking, in her opinion. Ridiculous, really. Now she was here, again, only this time without her usual companion but with another boy, a Slytherin she’d recognized from her year.
She did fancy the thought of another student pranking her least favorite professor, however, it was most unfortunate that they somehow decided to prank him both on the same day…both spells clashing terribly. Prue sat at the table, quietly as she scrubbed out one of the cauldrons – not halfway through before getting a premonition. The heavy cast iron pot fell from her hands suddenly, her body stiffened as her mind showed her imagery of the future, although only bits and pieces. She saw Hogsmeade, footsteps in the snow with no one attached to them…the Shrieking Shack…
Almost as soon as it began, the flashes ceased and Prue composed herself, faking a sneeze to cover up her premonition face. Apparently, she had one although had never seen it on herself. But if it looked anything like Phoebe’s, well, hopefully she could simply pretend it was allergies. Especially when Snape came over to see what the problemnoise was when she dropped the cauldron on the table. She excused herself, faking another sneeze, smiling a sarcastically polite smile until he left.
Turning slightly towards Tom then, she realized he must’ve seen her face and immediately tried to play it off. “Oh, er, yeah, I’m fine, just.. this one’s really gnarly. Kicked up my allergies, is all.” The girl made another more disgusted kind of face at the pot, although it wasn’t a lie because the cauldron she’d been working on did have some particularly undesirable sticky goo at the bottom of it. Hoping that he’d buy it, she was left to wonder what the hell that vision meant and why she saw it in the first place. Those things were so random and meant nothing to Prue…yet.
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