*jello failure
epsophie:
Oh no. Oh no no no.
Sophie kicked herself mentally for getting Oliver’s brain running again. This was going against everything she wanted. He was a lovely friend, perhaps a bit eccentric at times, and she would loathe to toss him into detention or have his head of house write him up for being out of bed past curfew but with the way things were going she could see that drastic measures had to be taken. And fast.
“Oliver—” she began but was cut off by his sudden question. She could do nothing but look at him in astonishment that he’d even consider obliviating—again, against the rules—her, a friend and a Prefect to boot. What in Merlin’s saggy tits had gotten into him? He was like a possessed man obsessed with perfecting his latest setback into something grand and exciting. Sophie couldn’t fault him for wanting to improve his craft (especially considering his lineage) but doing it right this instant? Man, she just wanted to sleep.
His exclamation startled her, her wand appearing in her hand in a flash as he lobbed a thing—probably a different accident from one of his many experiments—onto the floor in front of her. What happened afterwards was rather anticlimactic as her blue eyes watched the ball bounce away from them echoing down the hall. Fixing her gaze back at the now frozen Hufflepuff she gave him the best stony look she could muster.
“Did you threaten to obliviate me?” she asked sweetly, stepping closer to Oliver like a cat just about to pounce on a mouse. “Because if you did then I’d be forced to immobilise you and float you down the stairs to your dorm. And we wouldn’t want that… right?” Sophie gave him her most charming smile as she twirled her wand between her fingers as if she hadn’t a care in the world, but she trusted him to know better.
“Now. Let’s try this again shall we? Oliver, my dear, how about you go to bed now? It’s quite late already and we have classes tomorrow.”
There’s always that lingering feeling of danger sometimes when one wanders out alone in the wee hours in Hogwarts, the danger of being caught or the danger of losing points. Then, there’s that danger of having freaking Sophie Turner speaking in a sweet tone to you. That, Oliver learnt from experience will hurt. Badly.
Licking his lips, which he only noticed have become dry, his blinking betraying the million mile an hour thought train in his head. “Well.. I did not threatened to obliviate you. I merely thought it was a bad idea. Because let’s face it, in a duel you’d wipe me on the floor. Perhaps, on a broom, with the quaffle we could have a duel... but with wands? with you? I rather take my chances against a basilisk.”
“You wouldn’t really hurt me right, Arch?”
“I mean... if you leave me be... I could make a breakthrough that benefits all of wizardkind. Think about who can benefit from jello potions and super glue mixture potion thingy.”
He had already subtly took several steps back, ready to turn and run at any chance of an opening.
“Would you hate me if I lumos maxima-ed you in the face and run?”
