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
