detention → 002.
when → friday evening. where → the trophy room. warnings → n/a.
santana:
It had been a day since the whole Slytherin vs. Gryffindor quidditch fiasco and if it was possible, Santana had only gotten angrier since the match. Everyone knew about it, of course, the entire school had witnessed the shitty behaviour of the players on the pitch. Watched as both Santana and Mike took a complete bollocking from their teacher, heads hung in shame. Professor Zabini had let her explain her side of the story on the way back to the common room the previous day, informed her that neither he nor Professor Longbottom blamed either her or Mike for the fighting. But Madame Sylvester was not someone to be questioned or argued against, so their hands were tied and the punishment would go ahead as planned.
The common room was empty when she arrived, the boys all hiding upstairs in their dormitories. The only other girl on the team had done nothing of issue, so she let her be, choosing not to punish her for their friends transgressions. When morning came, she had made short work of the boys. A whisper of ‘locomotor mortis’ after breakfast, ensured that Matthew’s legs stuck together, hitting the floor almost as hard as he’d smashed her over the head with his bat. Repeatedly. As for David, the word ‘titillando’ provided enough suffering for him, as she watched purple hands tickle him until he puked. The rest of the boys were dealt with using threats; she would give them one more chance and if they screwed that up, she’d kick them off the team and curse them, properly.
The day came and went, quickly. Most of the Slytherin’s were avoiding her and that suited her, just fine. It was best just to let her ride out the storm on her own, she would be back to bad bitch business as usual in due time. She’d pushed her dinner around her plate, seated at the very end of the table, barely lifting her head the entire time. When she did, her eyes locked with Professor Zabini’s and he nodded, signalling that it was time for their first detention. She clenched her fists but swung her legs over the bench and rose to her feet, nonetheless. Fixing her robes, she walked down next to her house mates. “I’ve got detention now, thanks to you dicks,” she sneered, lip curling in disgust as she walked past her beaters. They both cowered at her presence, to the laughter of the table. ‘Time for hell,’ she thought, as she eyed the loud Gryffindor table. Ignoring the looks that some of the teenagers were giving her as she stalked the table, she located the person that she needed. Finding Mike, surrounded by his idiot team mates, she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently, waiting for him to give her his attention. “We need to go, Chang. Detention awaits.” She sighed.
