Getting Away (Closed)

It was a Saturday afternoon and Jennifer was almost desperate to get out of the castle. She walked alone to Hogsmeade, irritated by crowds of younger students getting in her way and talking too loudly. Her headache was bad enough already; they weren't helping in the slightest. Despite her best efforts to look as beautiful as she usually did, she felt like she looked horrible. Her hair was a mess and wouldn't co-operate. The lack of sleep had left bags under her eyes and she was pale and sickly looking. Really, she shouldn't be coming to Hogsmeade, but she couldn't stay inside when she felt like this.

Jen had no plans for when she arrived, so she looked around dizzily, trying to remember where she was. The Hogs' Head stood in front of her. It seemed like the logical option, since there wouldn't be any of the annoying kids who haunted the rest of the village. As predicted, it was almost empty when she entered.

After taking a seat at the bar, she put her head in her hands, feeling horrible. She needed a drink. She didn't care. Life was too short. Almost feeling happy with herself, Jen ordered a firewhiskey and took a sip, enjoying the burning sensation in her stomach. The quiet in the dark pub was amazing after the noise she'd had to put up with for the last few days back at school. The first and second years needed to learn that they didn't rule the school. And to shut up.

This thread is closed to Damien Lewis.

Damien was eager to get out of his apartment for a while, so decided just to go to Hogsmeade, sit in the Hogs' Head and drink loads of firewhiskey. It was a great plan. Unfortunately it was a nice, sunny day so the streets would probably be crowded with Hogwarts students. But it was better this plan than staying at home.

He apparated to the village, wearing his usual black attire, jeans, a shirt and a long coat. Since he'd ended up just behind the Hogs' Head, it was only a short walk to the pub. In contrast to outside, it was quiet, with hardly any people there. Just how he liked it. Now he could stay here until the early hours of the morning drinking.

At the bar, he noticed a blonde, slightly younger girl, looking out of place. Smirking, Damien took a seat next to her and ordered himself a firewhiskey. "Little early to be drinking?" he asked, just messing. "Aren't you a bit young?" She looked as though she could be a student.

When Jen heard a voice next to her, questioning her drinking so early she decided to ignore whoever it was, or perhaps slap him. But she looked up and saw an almost intriguing man beside her. "Can't stay all night," she said shortly, taking another large gulp of her drink. If she could, she'd be here all night, staying as far away from Hogwarts as possible. It was so much more peaceful and irritating second year-less.

"Eighteen," she smirked at the next question. "And I could ask you the same thing." The man couldn't be more than a few years older than her. Jennifer looked back down, occasionally glancing up to see him. So she could judge him by his cover, of course. That was the way to move forward in the world. From his appearance, she was guessing dodgy man, even more dodgy past. The flaw in her guess was that he had started talking to her. Generally, people like that didn't strike up friendly conversation with random girls in the pub.

Jen played with a bit of her hair, pretending that she didn't want to know more about him, and his potentially dodgy past and avoiding looking up again. "I'm Jen," she eventually said, after a silence in which she thought about what to do.

Didn't look like she talked much. But Damien couldn't say anything about that, he was often silent himself. Today, though, he was in the mood for a conversation, so he hadn't hesitated in talking to her, since she seemed the sort of person he could actually stand to talk to. "Why not? That's what I plan on doing." It wasn't like he had anything better to do than stay there all night. Except making fairy cakes with chocolate icing and rainbow sprinkles. But he'd done that already, and there were still some left to eat at home.

Eighteen, that seemed about right. "Student?" he inquired, his tone lower than before as he'd realised he'd been talking quite loudly. "No, you couldn't. I'm almost twenty." Yes, that sounded more effective than simply saying "nineteen". That was only a year older than her, so the effect wasn't the same.

In the silence that followed, Damien finished his firewhiskey and ordered another one. Then he sat smirking, aware that the girl wanted to continue the conversation. Eventually, she did. "Damien," he replied, taking a sip of his firewhiskey. This drink needed to last longer than the last one. "So, Jen. What's your life like?" Deep, meaningful, drunk conversations. The best.

"Unfortunately, I have to get back to school," Jen sighed quietly. "Seventh year Slytherin." So that he wouldn't ask later or whatever. It was good being at the top of the school and her house was obviously the best one, but the younger years never failed to annoy her and there were some irritating Slytherins too. If she wasn't completely over her anger issues, she would have jinxed every single one of those little gits. "Have you seriously got nowhere else to be, nothing else to do?" When she was that age, Jen would have a life outside of sitting in a pub for hours.

Damien. She had a dog called Damien when she was really little. But he'd died, so she got a guinea pig to replace him. Good times. "My life's pretty shit. My parents are dead. I live with my adoptive parents at home. They're alright," Jennifer nodded with a shrug. "I have a headache so bad it hurts to move. Not feeling sorry for myself, though." It was probably karma. She'd done a few "bad" things in her life.

Now, his turn. "So, Damien, what's your life like?" she asked in the same, almost mocking tone. Jen was predicting tragic past, parents murdered, orphaned, loner, lifeless. But it was just a guess from his appearance.

Cute. He'd been right, she was a student. "I was in Slytherin too," Damien nodded. "Not a big fan of school?" He hadn't ever been, in all honesty. The outside world always seemed much more interesting than practising a few useless charms it was unlikely he'd ever use. But he could see that it wasn't a complete waste of time. He wouldn't be where he was right now without going to learn magic basics.

He raised an eyebrow sceptically when she suggested he had no life. If only she knew. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about my social life," he said, suddenly much more serious. Non-existent social life. Wasn't like he actually needed one. His life was fine. "Why are you here alone? Not with any friends?" Now he was deliberately trying to get on her nerves, but it was fun.

It was pretty unlikely her life was that bad. Melodramatic eighteen year old girls. True, when Damien heard her fairly short story, it wasn't the best, but she could have been worse off. At least she had people to adopt her. Not that he was still bitter about his lack of parents or anything. "When did they die?" he smirked, insensitive as always.

"Why should I spill out all my deepest, darkest secrets to a kid like you?" There wasn't much he could tell her, whether he wanted to or not. He didn't want to. While he waited for an answer, he took a large gulp of his firewhiskey, putting a bored, uninterested look on his face.

"School's not...bad," Jen replied, hesitating for a moment before answering. "It's just the little kids. They're everywhere. And they don't shut up. I can't hear myself think." There were a few vaguely quiet places around the castle and grounds, but it was good to get out to Hogsmeade nonetheless. She hadn't been for a while, due to sickness and, quite frankly, laziness.

Oh, that was nice. He'd called her pretty. Sort of. Git. Then he asked about her own social life. "Because the few people worth my time couldn't be here," Jen smirked. "What about you? Not prepared to stoop as low as mudbloods when everyone else won't come near you?" The drink was talking a little more now. She wasn't even sure if what she was saying made sense, but she didn't particularly care.

There was another example of dear Damien's kind, sensitive nature when he casually asked when her parents died. "When I was a baby." It wasn't that Jennifer was still crying over having no parents, but it was hardly the nicest thing to ask immediately after someone shared that with you. "But people die all the time. They're just another example," she added, to prove that she didn't care, more to herself than anyone else.

"I never said you should do that," she said with an odd little smile on her face. Jen had once read a book on psychology and hypnotising people and messing with their minds and everything. It was bullshit. But she read about reverse psychology, so maybe that would work for her now. A brief synopsis of any major events in his life would do just fine.

Damien smirked to himself as Jen talked on. She had a point or two...but she talked a lot. They'd only just met and the conversation between the two of them was already pretty personal. Not that he minded, since he was almost excited to see what would become of this meeting. Once he found out some more about her, he could leave, ready to use information against her or others.

"You don't just adore children?" he mocked, feigning a look of surprise. "Not planning on being a mother? Wait...nevermind. Ugh." If it ever happened, he felt sorry for the kid. No, he didn't actually. He was too awesome to feel sorry for anyone, sticky-fingered brat or otherwise. "Why do you need to think?" he added after reflecting on her words. There could be an interesting bit of information there. Unless, of course, it was some stupid childhood dream, like becoming a ballerina and eating fairy cakes all day. Because, obviously, ballerinas couldn't eat too many fairy cakes or they'd be too fat for dancing.

Looked like she had her head up her arse. Nice. "Am I worth your time?" Damien asked softly. "I'm here because I don't need people pretending to like me around, like everyone else seems to." No friends were real. No friends were actually friends. Friendship was stupid and pointless. It was unnecessary and pointless.

Her parents dying when she was a baby was a lot better than having one die when she was twelve. "How?" He was hoping for a brutal murder story, it would be much more interesting than 'heart attack' or 'dragon pox' or something. It was likely, if they died together. "You have no idea," he smiled half madly when she pointed out that people died all the time. He'd killed plenty of people, he would know.

"Do you really want to know?" he smirked. There wasn't much she could know, really. Without waiting for an answer, he continued. "I'm a poor little orphan boy. Awesome wizard. Better than you'll ever be. Generally, I'm not bored." Damien smiled. "That enough for you? Because it's my whole life story, pretty much." Pretty much.

Jen rolled her eyes. "What do you think?" Obviously she didn't want kids. "Disgusting, messy little monsters. I'd never want my own one to be responsible for." There was nobody in the world she'd choose that option for. Why ruin her potentially perfect life by giving birth and wasting time and money on some stupid, ungracious little brat? Obviously, she felt strongly about the matter. Why Leila had wanted a child, she had no idea. Her adoptive mother had been unable to, but why was that always so terrible?

"You're the only one here," she smirked confidently. Jennifer hid a look of surprise when she saw her glass was almost empty. Maybe now was the time to stop? Or not. She decided to carry on talking. "If I had a better option, I'd go to them." Damien was already moving on. She nodded at his rather complicated statement about fake friendships. It was totally true. "Yeah, when I don't like people, I tell them. Right now, I'm not crazy about you," she returned, smiling sweetly at him. Git.

"Why the fuck do you want to know about my life?" she asked suspiciously, suddenly more conscious of which way the conversation was going. "And why did you pull that face just then?" Jen was referring to the slightly mad, typical villain grin he'd just flashed, along with the vaguely mysterious answer which went along with it. There was something weird about this bloke, and it definitely wasn't just the quiffy, flippy hair thing he had going on.

That wasn't much of a life story. "Orphan? Aw, your life must have been the worse," she said sarcastically. Her childhood had actually been pretty brilliant, though. Punching other children, getting told off for punching other children, going to dance lessons, having "anger issue sessions" with Leila. Fun. And that wasn't even sarcasm. At the time, however, she was a drama queen who hated everything.

Jen decided to pick him up on some of what he'd said. "Pretty much? Which means there's much more? Which you're not telling me?" She managed to keep a straight face as she bombarded him with questions. "Then, generally? Generally you're not bored? What do you do when you are bored? Any special hobbies? Baking fairy cakes, reading stories about princesses?" Maybe he did have the interior of a five year old girl but he just hid it quite well.

“Wise words, Princess Jen,” Damien smirked, shaking his head slightly as an indication he was being a sarcastic jerk. Just in case she was too thick to realise that, however blatantly obvious it may be. “So, the joys of motherhood don’t appeal to you. How is it you plan on spending your life? Marriage to some handsome rich lad? What about jobs?” He bombarded her with questions, hoping to make her feel uncomfortable. She was drinking more and more. In this state, she’d most likely tell him anything. The man hadn’t had too much firewhiskey, preferring to stay fairly sober. There was a lot more time before he’d leave.

Oh, the stupid girl. “I’m not your only option,” he said quietly, pointing his head subtly to a miserable-looking old man in the corner. The bloke was curled up over a newspaper with a sour expression on his face. “It’s lovely to know I’m superior to someone, at least.” Sarcasm. Because he didn’t care in the slightest what some thick schoolgirl thought of him. “No, I don’t like you much either. You’re just a dizzy, blonde lunatic. In fact, I’m not sure why I’m talking to you either. I’d be happy alone.” Alone, drinking, thinking. Story of his life.

Maybe she wasn’t so thick. “No reason,” he said smoothly. “I’m simply moving the conversation along. I can stop if you really want.” No, this girl craved social interaction, however much she told herself otherwise. From what he could see, she saw herself as someone completely different. Maybe she thought she was a beautiful, mysterious, unsociable genius, but that was far from the truth. He decided not to mention this just yet. It could be interesting if he brought it up at a random point in the conversation. “As for my face, what’s wrong with it? It’s perfect.” Of course. Cue the smoulder face. Which was incredibly attractive.

“It wasn’t exactly fun and enjoyable.” The arrogant smirk returned to his face. “I wasn’t a spoiled brat like I have no doubt you always have been.” You never changed. Jen was still a spoiled brat. And he didn’t like her at all. Well, maybe she was a little interesting. Damien didn't like her because of her likeable personality or anything, though. Because quite frankly, she wasn’t at all likeable. Though people had probably told her otherwise for her whole life.

Oh wow, she was a feisty one. “Maybe there is.” Why did that mean he had to share it with her? “Why do you care?” he asked quickly in return, changing the subject so they didn't have to talk about his life. Since the girl was clearly not a dark witch, it was hardly even worth sharing his name. As for the hobbies, she wasn’t far off. He didn’t read stories about princesses, but he liked cupcakes. It wasn’t baking them, though, that he liked. It was the finished product. So he snorted impatiently. “Sounds more like you.”

"Ministry, probably," she shrugged, ignoring his childish and stupid remarks. "Or a teacher. Depends." Jen sounded bored and uncaring, but this career was important. She would not end up as a jobless, pathetic waste, whatever happened. "What do you do?" She had her suspicions, and if he refused to tell her, it would only make them stronger.

Dizzy blonde lunatic? That was incredibly offensive. "I'm anything but stupid," she said simply. "Nor am I a spoiled brat, or a child, so fuck off." That would do.

It was getting late. "I'm going back to the castle," Jennifer murmured, standing up and confidently walking out without a second glance. That git wasn't worth her time anyway. He could be happy alone now, just like he'd wanted.