6th year. Gryffindor. Captain. Beater. Troublemaker. I do what I want. Fight me. (ESFP)
"I don’t know. I’ve just been in Gryffindor house, doing…Gryffindor things, I guess? I’ve never really been one to stand out, so it’s not really a surprise you don’t know me. I’ve always been a quiet one."
Bradley flinched slightly when Lia stood so abruptly. He didn’t know why, it was just a reflex. “That’s good, I think. I mean, it’s not goo that was had an awful memory before, or now; it’s just good the memory you lost is back…sort of. What am I even saying?” He shook his head at himself and laughed nervously. Why did this always happen to him? Nervousness, fear, uncertainty, awkwardness.
Bradley just continued to babble to try and look over his previous word vomit. “Well, usually one makes food for the injured or sick, but all I know how to made it pasta, pumpkin bread, and burnt cookies. Any of those sound appetizing?”
"Ah, so you’re the quiet sort of Gryffindor." Lia nodded, understandingly. "You lot are the real lot we’ve got to watch out for."
As he stumbled over his words, Lia chuckled along with him. “No worries, Vaughn. I know what you mean. And hey,” she said, nudging him lightly, “Just relax. I’m not going to kill you. Unless you give me reason to. But you’re alright. For now.”
At the mention of food, Lia looked up and batted her eyelashes at him, adoringly. “Aww! You’re going to make me food? I would love food, I would, Vaughn.” Bumping into Bradley seemed like a nice surprise. Instead of receiving the detention she thought she would, she’d gotten no punishment whatsoever and food. Lia’s only previous experience with a Prefect like this was with Pepper. And Lia bet Pepper was only nice to her because Lia knew where she slept at night. Probably, anyway.
How exactly was that a sexual advance if you said that you hoped my uncle whom you’ve never met was fit? That was more you thinking I made a sexual advance and me assuring you I had not.
I just quite like seeing you get riled up. It’s much fun, actually.
A sly, conniving smirk couldn’t help but spread across his chin. “Exactly. They’ll never suspect me.” Bradley always loved fireworks - at least he had in the always he remembered. In his first year at the orphanage, a few of the older kids had set off fireworks off the roof on New Year’s Eve at midnight. The cable was out again, and everyone was bummed they couldn’t watch the fireworks of TV. So, they used what little money they had from the crap jobs they mustered through to buy fireworks. It was one of the best days of his life. It was the first time Bradley felt slightly normal.
Although it was cool that Lia was so casual about the whole thing, that didn’t take the slight sting away from Bradley. He had shared some very personal stuff with Lia, and the fact that she forgot all of it says to Bradley it didn’t mean that much to her. “It’s okay,” he mumbled anyway. “I will.”
The matron finished her work and moved onto the next patient. He stood awkwardly facing Lia. “So, does that mean your memory is back? From, from before?”
There was a mischievous twinkle in Bradley’s eyes that Lia often recognized in her own and she quite liked it. “Say, Vaughn, there’s much that I don’t know about you, but the more I’m hearing, the more I’m liking it. It’s a proper shame we’ve only really just met. Where’ve you been hiding?”
She let out a short laugh before hopping off the cot and pocketing the salve. “Hmm? Yeah, it seems so. My memory was pretty awful beforehand though, so it’s not like it changed much, I reckon.”
As Lia stretched, she could feel the soreness throughout her body. Seeing how rather delicate Vaughn seemed to be, she decided against rubbing the salve on her in front of him. “So, what was your plan after getting me fixed up?”
Seven is quite magical you know. Anyway, the sorting hat knew I’d commit mass murder if every time I tried to start homework a dung bomb went off. Or I’m not ‘fun’ enough for Gryffindor, depending on whom you ask.
In a generic, utterly platonic sort of way, of course. You were- are- unsettling me greatly.
Well, if it’s any consolation, you’re fun enough for me— Or you would be if you stopped ignoring my sexual advances.
I have six, actually. All Gryffindors. You’d know Florence, Rosella, and Cecelia, or whatever ridiculous names they’re calling themselves this week. Charity graduated two years ago, Olive one year before her I believe, and Lenore graduated after our first year, so you may remember them as well..
That- You- You stop that now Lia Villace. You’re- lovely, and well aware of it too, if I had to guess, but that doesn’t mean you should torment me like this. I didn’t mean to imply anything crude.
Actually, you lost me at you having six sisters, but I didn’t know the West family was so large. Hmm, wonder why you’re the only Hufflepuff though.
AWWW. You think I’m lovely! Course I know it, mate. I’m the dishiest thing to hit Hogwarts. And honestly, just how exactly am I ‘tormenting’ you?
In my house we’re aware that there are more important things to turn our energies to, for example- and I know this sounds mad to anyone in Gryffindor- we like to actually focus on our schoolwork. Though, as I was saying originally, this is why I couldn’t be a Gryffindor, how would I ever focus? I’m starting to see why I have better marks than my sisters- they’re apparently fending off prank wars at every turn.
That is not true, and furthermore inappropriate- You are- that is- I would never. I have self control. I don’t just go around- doing that.
Oh! You have a sister?
C’mon West! I’m only poking a bit of fun at you. Although, if you wanted to poke a bit of fun at me, I wouldn’t complain. I might moan a little, but you catch my drift.
Please. Don’t even put me on the same level as you.
And don’t pretend you know anything about me.
I’m not pretending. I know you’re pretentious. Do you even hear yourself, Lancaster?
"Oh! Don’t call me pretentious! You’re not even the same LEVEL as me!"
"You know what? Maybe I’ll charm myself red and gold, and then after we win we can celebrate with red velvet cupcakes. Then, we can raid my secret supply of fireworks to shoot off the astronomy tower." Bradley had never told anyone about his fireworks supply. Whoops. It just slipped out, he guessed…and he was okay with that.
Bradley could feel his whole body tense at her recognition of his name. How could he explain that the two had met before, but she didn’t remember him because he wasn’t interesting enough to be remembered? And on top of that, he foolishly wrote to her over the summer, and she didn’t know who he was, despite the fact that he shared something very personal with him and thought she had done the same, in a way.
His cheeks burned with embarrassment. He couldn’t lie. Bradley had never been a lier in his entire life (or at least the life he remembered). “Urm…” He went to sit down but quickly found it to be to stationary and stood, fiddling with his hands and tapping his foot. “Maybe,” he mumbled.
Lia couldn’t help as her eyes widened. “You’ve got a secret stash of fireworks? You’re a Prefect!” She was rather impressed by the boy and began wondering if the other Prefects were as much as a rule-breaker as he seemed to be.
As he turned a bright shade of red and rather incoherent, Lia realized he was indeed the boy she’d apparently met while..incapacitated. “Oi, Vaughn! Don’t be so embarrassed. If anything, I should be the one embarrassed. I’m sorry we met under those circumstances, but I’ll have you know that I really don’t remember anything at all during that lapse of time. Doesn’t change the fact that we’re friends now. And I loved your letter. Don’t be afraid to owl me whenever.”
The matron returned with the salve and simply told Lia to apply it wherever there was bruising and left to aid a more severe looking girl in another cot.
I sincerely hope that you turn away from this one. As I said, pranking is a waste of time and energy.
I- That is not what I meant, Lia.
Maybe to a Puff like yourself, but in my house, it’s a gesture of camaraderie!— Intellect!— And bravery! Pranks are always appreciated in the Gryffindor house. I once gathered the Gryffs and convinced the school’s old gossip columnist that we were a secret rebel group planning to assassinate Whelon.
And of course you meant it. I can see it in your eyes, West. Although, more noticeably, in your pants.
Make no mistake, if you prank me I’m afraid I’ll have to retaliate in a very unsubtle, unsecretive way. Pranking is foolish and time wasting, but I’m afraid my temperament isn’t suited to turning the other cheek. Besides, I hardly believe you have no conscience- you Gryffindors are just a mischievous lot.
…That is a very alarming sentence you just said to me, you know.
Three Tiberi are not enough I’m afraid, we’ll have to build numbers and continue our plans later.
Why, West, that almost sounds like a challenge to me. And I’ve never been one to turn away from a challenge.
Oh? Build our numbers? Are you telling me you want to multiply? Well, I’m not quite sure about shagging you, so I hope your Uncle Ti is fit.