wildechaya·:
bump . bump . thwack . the baseball strikes up a rhythm , smacking against the wall , dropping to the floor , bouncing back to the cradle of gussie’s palm . the transfiguration classroom is nearly empty – just her , the ball , and a mouse which she is fairly certain had once been a matchbox . the graffiti had been entirely scrubbed away , and yet a solid two hours remained of her detention . unjust detention , she thinks , with no small measure of bitterness . there was some satisfaction to be had , though – after all , he’s in the hospital wing a floor above her . serves him right .
it had started with a shoulder nudge , roughly pushing past her . then , gussie had demanded an apology . he said she didn’t deserve one – shouldn’t be there to begin with . ‘ just can’t help yourself , can you ? you need to feel special . is that why your sort never shut up about the holoc– she hadn’t let him finish the sentence . in quick succession his nose had snapped , he’d fallen to the floor , and at the moment the professor came upon them gussie had her wand in his face , having just cast a particularly painful stinging hex .
aria had been there , as she seemed to have a particularly inconvenient talent for arriving at gussie’s worst moments , but gussie had been more concerned with first , the boy , and second , her inevitable punishment . aria must be thrilled . if i keep this up , slytherin will take the cup , no question about it . but some reactions just couldn’t be helped . and so , there she sat , knowing any minute now the professor would return , check in , leave , as he had been the past 4 hours . bump . bump . thwack . / @islerot
JUSTICE IS RAW. it is something loud and persistent scratching in her brain . she , herself , tips the scales , takes matters into her own hands . devil-she . a self proclaimed sin , yet injustice --- that is something she cannot stand . her means may be cunning , may not be noble . gussie was always more the noble sort than she . though one cannot say her means were ineffective . something boils under her skin , makes her heart bleed . rage dwells ‘neath her skin , always ready . though normally she would bathe in such an opportunity : gussie in detention , house points stolen from gryffindor , sweet , sweet victory , it does not feel the same . this , though she hates to admit it , is unjustified . that is something she cannot live with .
HOLY IS SHE NOT! to tell the saccharine from the vile is easy , but to tell which she falls in is impossible . there is nothing seraphim or angelic about her ebon heart , but where deviltry lies is usually good intentions as well . usually . it does not take a well placed smile , nor any amount of candy-coated lies . all it takes is timing . good timing . her beady eyes leave the professor as he exits the room . oh , how she will regret this . it takes only a minute for her to convince a first year to delay him , only a minute for her to grab the broom and fly to the window . the wind soars and brushes past her skin . the height and ground below makes her invincible . it does not even take her wand to open the window , does not even take the minute . only a few seconds , her fingers outstretched , and then ----- ❝ gussie . ❞
REGRET LOVES HER. it swarms around her throat , a hidden serpent that she hides well . guilt is a stranger , they have never met , but regret is a different story entirely . regret is a lover . ❝ hey , sad-sack ! i’ll bet your brave , gryffindor ass , that you won’t get on this broom and fly away . uh , by the way , you’re welcome . ❞ with booming words , she takes to movement again . flies herself inside , does a rather obnoxious turn about the room . the baseball , an idle thing , is now scooped up in her palm . her smile burns with wickedness and devil lips . ❝ come on , idiot , lets go . ❞
