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Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea
Topic Started: Feb 26 2014, 10:52 AM (100 Views)
Mia Lancaster
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The very moment she woke up, Mia knew that today was not going to be her day.

Though to be fair, it was unlikely that anyone’s ideal start to the day would involve waking up to the dulcet tones of Reagan shrieking bloody murder at Olive’s newest ‘friend’, who’d found its way onto Reagan’s nightstand. (Olive had likely set it there herself. )

Mia wasn’t sure what she should even call the beast. A pet, maybe. Or science experiment. Or whatever.

Who in their right mind honestly thought any creature with lizard skin, a scorpion’s tail, eight tarantula legs and the head of a ferret would be a good pet?

Only Olive.

Once Reagan started screaming, Eleanor started throwing things at her to stop her from yelling and Georgie bolted from her bed with a hand clamped over her mouth as she darted to the bathroom. Her face was a pale shade of green.

Eleanor and Georgie had had an extremely loud and late night consuming far too much alcohol. Mia knew she should have sat up with them to make sure they were alright, but they were in the common room, what type of trouble could they get into there? Besides, Mia was doing an extra credit Transfiguration project to try and get back in Professor Kerrigan’s good books.

This only led Mia’s thoughts back to the real source of all of her misery for the last few days.

Artemis McFadyen.

The spawn of Satan himself.

That boy seemed bound and determined to ruin her life. Because of him, she’d gotten not one, but two unwarranted detentions, she’d disappointed a professor AND she’d almost let him kiss her.

All of which, was completely unacceptable.

She could see it now. If she wasn’t firm with him, these could lead to a dangerously downward spiral that her life could take. She could almost feel her dream job as an Unspeakable, slipping away from her before she ever got it.

Today’s detention would be very different from the last. She wasn’t about to let him lead her into another detention. She’d do the required tasks with little to no interaction with Artie McFadyen or his stupid, distracting (but incredibly smug and impossibly arrogant) smile.

Mia pounded on the bathroom door as she gathered her stuff to get ready for the day.

“C’mon, Georgie, I can’t be late.”

The door was opened a few seconds later by a very pale and sickly Georgie, who despite her ghastly appearance was as sharp as ever. Asking her where she had to go and why she couldn’t be late.

“I don’t have time to explain.” Mia muttered as she tried to push past the ever observant blonde. Mia knew her cheeks were already beginning to flush. She was the world’s worst liar.

Georgie refused to budge. Her keen (though slightly bloodshot) eye studying Mia’s every expression.

“Ihavedetention.” Mia finally confessed in a single breath. Unfortunately, Georgie was fluent in Mia-mumble and her eyes widened before she responded. Her hangover now seemed to have been forgotten.

“YOU HAVE DETENTION?” She shouted in disbelief.

It was absolutely astounding how quickly the rest of the room went silent. Mia could feel four pairs of eyes turn to stare at her so she finally sighed and turned to address them all.

“Yes, I got a detention… two of them actually, but both were that Gryffin-jerk’s fault. Really? Who does he think he is being all attractive and tan? What an ass!”

This was followed by ten solid seconds of silence in the room. Not even Ferret-face, the scorp-der moved a muscle.

“Artie McFadyen.” She clarified, before trying to explain further. ”We were caught in a closet together, but it was entirely his fault for dragging me in there. And I’m pretty sure Kerrigan is a ninja. She didn’t make a sound when she walked in on us, but that was his fault too. He was the one with the sexy eyes and the nakedness, though I supposed I deserved that because I did try to kill him but why couldn’t he just keep his damn clothes on… those appalling boxers were offensive and just plain rude. And besides, no one should be that tan and distracting. How is anyone supposed to think with all those muscles in their face and all that talk about kissing and dares?” She blurted it all out at once. And to her surprise, she actually felt better for confessing it all to her friends. “And I can’t explain anymore because Professor Kerrigan is already upset with me, so I can’t be late.”

Four extremely puzzled sets of eyes watched as she headed into the bathroom and shut the door behind her. Mia wasted no time in the bathroom. After a quick shower she put on an old pair of jeans, a navy blue tshirt with the words ‘Never trust an Atom, they make up everything’ on it. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail and slipped on her bright green tennis shoes. She was out of the bathroom in less than ten minutes. She tossed a quick wave at her friends as she darted out the door.

She shouldn’t have been surprised that she was the first to appear at Professor Kerrigan’s office. Of course, Artie would be late. Why wouldn’t he be?

Taking a deep breath, Mia stepped into the room and said hello to the professor. The rest of the room was empty.

“Professor Kerrigan?” She began quietly.

The stern professor turned toward the timid Ravenclaw and her expression softened just the tiniest bit.

“Yes, Miss Lancaster?”

“I just wanted to apologize for what it must have looked like yesterday when you came back in, but I promise you that it wasn’t what it appeared to be. I am not in any sort of relationship with that heathen. In fact, I’d never even spoken to him until he ran me over in the corridor the other day.” Mia began to stammer. Maybe if she could explain this to the professor, she’d see fit to free Mia from this detention. And more importantly, she’d remove it from Mia’s record.

“Miss Lancaster, though I don’t believe that you are the type to initiate the type of behaviour that I caught you in the other day, you were guilty in the fact that you didn’t put a stop to it before it got that far. Your detention stands. Please have a seat until Mr. McFadyen arrives.”

Mia took a little bit of solace in the fact that the professor’s look had not been filled with disappointment and disapproval. She slid into a desk in the front row.

This is not how she envisioned spending her Saturday morning.

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Artemis McFadyen
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The very moment that he woke up, Artie knew that it was going to be his day.

First of all, he had a very vivid dream that a sultry brunette attempted to seduce him in his sleep. Second, as he strode down the stairs and to the common room, a joyous sight caught his eye. Carter and Whit were sitting on the couch, cross legged and facing each other with looks of sheer, unadulterated amusement combined with gruff laughter and the exchange of tales from the night before.

Artie plopped himself down on a cushion at the edge of the sofa and listened to every second. Hell, it wasn’t every day that the others had visitors to their beds. Especially Whit, who tended to take to a corner, do his thing and bust out before the bird could form two words.

What he learned was that two very drunk Ravenclaws invaded their territory that night – not okay. But, what was more, they were two very drunk Ravenclaws that happened to be besties with the object of his current conquest. Strawberry.

“Was it the hot Bill Nye one or the ninja?” Artie turned to Whit as soon as he finished describing “The META APOCALYPSE.”

“Again, I ask,” Carter replied with his eyes resting on Artie, amused lift at the corner of his lips, “you think Olive is hot?”

Whit leveled a serious glare at Artie as if to say, “Who do you think would find their way into my bed and if it was the hot one, do you think I’d be complaining?”

“Ah. Tough luck, mate. Still got the bits n’ bobs, though yeah?” Artie tilted his head and nodded at Whit’s legs which squeezed themselves together at the mere mention of castration.

He hissed through his teeth. That ninja was a conquest even Artie wouldn’t attempt. She wasn’t Everest. She was fucking Pluto. Not happening.

“What about the short one?” He held up his hand as if to say that Strawberry as about 3 feet tall. “Red face, hot virgin-type? Did she grace us with her presence last night?”

Carter shook his head, an almost unnoticeable movement and Whit didn’t even bother answering, clearly distraught from his nighttime visit.

“Normally by now, they’re running to me. How you two snag two hot – yes, Whit, she’s bloody hot, just a little heavy on the crazy – girls and I’m high and dry…” Artie laughed, deep in his throat, and pushed himself off the floor. “Guess I’ll have to work harder on it in detention today.”

The best thing about his Bros was that they never questioned the fact that Artie had detention almost every other day. Strangely, all of the talent Whit had for charming his way out of them had never once rubbed off on the Artie. Not even a smidge.

“See ya chaps. Off to conquer Pluto.”

He bounded from the common room, leaving his friends to decipher what it was their respective encounters meant (because Artie’s casual implication that girls migrated toward things they wanted went predictably ignored). The portrait swung open, The Fat Lady blew him a kiss and off he went towards the one place he wanted to be today.

Detention.

With Strawberry.

His boots skidded to a stop in front of Kerrigan’s office. He swung the door open and flung himself inside, straight into an open chair right next to the sexy brunette who was doing everything in her power to avoid eye contact.

“Sorry I’m late, Anne,” Artie apologized without taking his eyes away from the side of Strawberry’s red face. “I was consoling Carter.”

“Mister McFadyen, you will address me as Professor Kerrigan and you will have another day’s detention to let that rule sink in. Plus, an additional day in order to combat your inability to arrive on time to detention.” She said it with a smile, because nine out of ten detentions he received were from her. Like she took joy in sucking the life out of his after school affairs.

Or, she wanted him. More likely.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a trademark wink sent her way. She only scowled in return. Artie leaned in to Strawberry and said a very gentle, “Good morning.”

Strawberry turned her face away from him with puckered lips.

“Mia, Artie,” the professor started as she stood up from her desk and walked around to stand in front of them. Her arms folded across her chest and Artie’s attention was officially hers. “You will leave your wands with me today as your punishment will not involve having access to any sort of magic.”

Artie’s eyes flipped from Anne’s chest and immediately sought her evil, malicious stare. (Okay, so she was just looking at them with disappointment, but still – evil.) No magic? They’d have to clean another classroom with their hands?

“And you will be scraping algae from the rocks at the Black Lake.” Suddenly, the professor had two dull blades and a jar in her hands. Bloody hell. “You will not come back to the castle until this jar is filled and your hands are pruned.”

Artie grinned and waggled his eyebrows in Strawberry’s direction. “Shall we get our swimsuits or go in our birthday suits?”
Edited by Artemis McFadyen, Feb 26 2014, 07:12 PM.
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Mia Lancaster
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Mia sat in silence with Professor Kerrigan for only a few minutes before they could hear his quickened steps echoing off the stone walls of the corridor. Growing louder as he neared the room, Mia could feel the tension building up inside of her at the sound. The knot in her stomach was tightening with every single footstep. The last time she’d seen him had been when he’d almost kissed her while he was half naked. And the time before that was when he had decided to destroy her entire life.

She was tired of being Artie McFadyen’s source of amusement. She had already decided that this detention was going to be decidedly different than the last. They would accomplish whatever goal Professor Kerrigan had for them and then they’d go their separate ways. Then life could go back to a time when they didn’t exist in each other’s lives. It had been so peaceful back then, she thought with a sense of longing for those days. Even the daily Olive-induced panic attacks were a joy compared to this.

As the door flung open, Mia suddenly found the school grounds outside really interesting. She was determined not to pay the Gryffindor idiot any attention at all.

“Sorry I’m late, Anne. I was consoling Carter.” He began glibly. It was all Mia could do not to turn and stare at him in disbelief. The gall to call a professor by their first name was probably the most disrespectful thing that Mia could think of. She was stunned and appalled at his cheekiness. She could scarcely contain the disapproving cluck of her tongue that threatened to escape her.

“Mister McFadyen, you will address me as Professor Kerrigan and you will have another day’s detention to let that rule sink in. Plus, an additional day in order to combat your inability to arrive on time to detention.” She should have known that Professor Kerrigan would have no issues putting McFadyen into his place.

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with the same cheeky tone. That boy would never learn.

As she stared intently at the huge oak tree outside, she could sense Artie taking the seat next to her.

“Good morning.” The words were said in a soft tone that was far too close to her. She fought the urge to shift her chair a few inches away from him.

“Mia, Artie,” the professor walked around her desk to stand in front of them. Mia’s attention was immediately focused on her. “You will leave your wands with me today as your punishment will not involve having access to any sort of magic.”

No wands? The problem there was that Mia wouldn’t be able to threaten to hex of his bits if he got too ‘Artie’ with her.

“And you will be scraping algae from the rocks at the Black Lake.” Suddenly, the professor had two dull blades and a jar in her hands. “You will not come back to the castle until this jar is filled and your hands are pruned.”

“Shall we get our swimsuits or go in our birthday suits?” came from the arrogant tosspot beside her.

Mia turned to him with a glare that was filled with a mixture of disbelief and horror. “Could you possibly get your mind out of the gutter for a single solitary second?”

With that, she got up and took the jar and one knife from the professor and charged out of the room.

She stomped through the castle, barging through groups of students (without a single apology in sight) as she hurried outside and headed across the grounds toward the lake before Artie finally caught up with her. She whirled around and leveled a furious glare at him. She had never been so genuinely angry with anyone in her entire life.

“For Merlin’s sake, you need to just stop. Stop being so disrespectful and so arrogant and stop being such a bloody arse. I am not one of your airheaded little conquests nor will I ever be.” She took a step toward him. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she jabbed a finger into his chest. “I have a brain in my head and I have a little thing called self-respect.”

She turned to storm off toward the lake again not caring whether he followed or not. She didn’t have a doubt in her mind that he would do absolutely nothing towards completing their task. She’d be forced to everything. Same as with every other dolt in this bloody school, when paired with one of the Murderclaws, they expected to coast by without doing a damn thing. But she didn’t even care. She just wanted this day over with. She was so done with this day already. So long as he stayed out of her way.

If not, then she couldn’t be held responsible when she dunked his head under the water until the guyliner was washed clean off his face.
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Artemis McFadyen
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The single, most boring thing in the entire world was a girl who sat motionless and silent, unresponsive and, basically, dead-fish-like. The type that breathed apathy and sloth. The kind that made him do all the work while she rode out whatever Artemis McFadyen fantasy she was having. (Because every girl had one of those… there were absolutely no exceptions.) Monochromatic girls whose only purpose of existence was to look pretty. Static.

Not Strawberry. She ranked at the very bottom of the Most Boring Girl List.

Yes, he had a list and yes, it was updated on a weekly basis.

She was electric, spoke passionately and Artie could always tell when he was having an effect on her. (It was hard not to when her face turned that stunning shade of red and her petite hands quaked in the shape of fists at her side). She was full of color and her very presence brought with it prismatic bursts of light that pulsated around her like the universe’s most active aura.

Strawberry was teeming, wanton lust.

Well, she would be, once he could get her to open up, stop turning crimson every time he smiled at her.

And Artie desperately wanted to hit that.

He watched her walk from the room, his neck twisting, chin over shoulder, just so that he could watch her storm from the room.

Not static. Not in the least.

Artie’s wolfish grin wasn’t dampened by Anne’s glower as he pushed himself from the desk, grabbed the dull knife she extended to him, and hustled after the flustered brunette. Legs carried him quickly through the random groups of people, every once in a while copping an accidental feel as he grabbed onto whoever he was hastily bumping into, not wanting to knock them over.

Bonus points, really.

Merlin, the bird was fast. Took him ages to catch up with her and it was halfway to the Black Lake before he was even close enough to smell her shampoo. Strawberry. He felt proud. Looked it, too. And when she spun around on the heel of her foot, angry eyes pinning him to the spot, he had all the nerve in the world to continue to grin.

“For Merlin’s sake, you need to just stop. Stop being so disrespectful and so arrogant and stop being such a bloody arse.”

Fucking hell, did she even know how precious she was, all raging rabbit-like? He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, tell her to relax or take a bubble bath or, you know, that other thing that rabbits did well. Artie resisted, though it took all his strength.

“I am not one of your airheaded little conquests nor will I ever be.” She got closer. So, of course, he found her argument entirely invalid. “I have a brain in my head and I have a little thing called self-respect.”

His jaw tightened for probably the third, maybe fourth, time in his life. It wasn’t anger. It was annoyance. Not at Strawberry. At himself.

Ravenclaw. Trusty sidekick in the Murder of Claws. She was a brain. A nerd. A delicate flower in the hands of a feral beast.

He was playing the game all wrong.

And yes, he completely disregarded most of what she said.

He was used to brazen girls who flung themselves in his direction. Or, if they preferred to behave like coy ladies that needed a good spank in the right direction, he would pick up on that right away. But this? With the virginal!pouting and genuine rage!stomp after his rather aloof and blunt mating dance. It was – not new, of course. He’d had quite a few blushing brides virgins, they were quite easy considering they spent most of their time fighting their natural instincts. – It was different.

Strawberry was different.

The thought was foreign and viral. Too strange to dwell on for any length of time.

Artie jogged to catch up to Strawberry’s side. He practiced softer eyes, a shame-filled stare, and a timid smile. When he reached her, he didn’t try to mollify her with a gentle touch on the shoulder or bright smile. No, he’d go for something softer, subtle. The jugular.

“I’m sorry.” Quiet, in one breath through barely opened lips. His pace kept up with hers. “Mia.”

Both bodies stopped just shy of the lake. In the distance, Quidditch was being practiced; by all the hoots and hollering, sounded like Gryffindor was winning their friendly (if you could call it that) against Slytherin. Caleb was probably dangling up there somewhere. On a side note, as Artie kicked his shoes off somewhere to his left, Caleb probably had absolutely no idea how many females watching that match were going to try and toss themselves at him later.

He’d have to keep count and add it to their Clueless Caleb board in La Casa. Total = 154. And that’s not if you’re including the time that Carter suggested Olive kept asking him to be her test subject because she “found his pectorals entertaining.” Artie totally counted it, though. Whit did not. And, as per usual, Whit won.

Once his shoes were off, he peeled off layers of clothes: cloak, sweater, button down shirt. Bright sunlight beat against his skin as he glanced over to Strawberry, a hand covering his eyes to block the brunt of the sun. He reached his hand out towards Strawberry’s and let his soft fingers trail against her skin for a fraction of a second, then tugged the jar out of her steel grasp.

“What?” He asked, lips twitching to hold back that standard, go-to smirk. “You didn’t think I was going to let you have all the algae collecting fun, didya?”

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