An unused hallway

Classes were officially over for the day. thank Christ Finn thought to himself, shuffling down a staircase. In an adventurous mood, he hopped over the side of one, catching another one that was swinging it's way towards him. It was time for his "alone time". Time for practice.

He was twirling his wand between his fingers like a drumstick as he found the empty hallway in one of the older parts of the castle. Finally, a place where he could be alone. He could never go to the common room, or the great hall, and he hated going to the library. Too many books with big words.

Sliding down the wall, he took a swig of his fire whiskey and conjured a few small targets that whizzed around the hallway. It was time to practice fighting styles. The targets came at him, and he punched or kicked or threw them away. Finn didn't look graceful, he was a street fighter, but he got the job done. Each blow he landed to the targets, he imagined some annoying Slytherin, or Mr. Hoffman, or anyone who had ever given him a hard time, he couldn't let the targets get one hit in on him.

Molly is strutting down the hallway, because it's a little known shortcut that her brother had told her about and she figures she might as well test it out. She frowns to herself; there's a lot of noise coming from around the corner. She moves more slowly, her stilettos clicking more quietly against the stone floor. She stops as she rounds the bend and stares, seeing what looks to be an older boy -well, everyone looks older than Molly, really, even some fourth years- kicking the arse of a whole bunch of moving targets. She blinks. "Whoa. They must've, like, really pissed you off," she comments.

Finn was too into making sure none of the targets hit him that he didn't even hear anyone walking--or anyone at all--until Molly spoke. He was startled and jumped a bit. "Oi! wot're yeh doin' over 'ere?" He said, taking his mind off the targets for a moment. Unfortunately, that left an opening for one of the targets, which promptly smacked him upside the head.

"Augh, shite!" he yelled, grabbing the target and throwing it against the wall, where it shattered and disappeared, along with the other targets. "Wot? No. Wot d'yeh want?" Finn asked.

"You missed a spot," Molly comments, making an 'ouch' face as the target whacks Finn right before he destroys it. "Me? I want to, like, walk down the hallway," she chirps happily, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "I'm Molly. Whatcha doin'?" she asks, drifting a few steps closer now that it appears to be safer. Stilettos weren't really made for dodging targets after all.

"Wot?" Finn asked, confused. Who was this small girl and why the hell was she talking to him? Girls didn't talk to him. Most girls found him repulsive in the personality department, and he'd never really thought anyone would willingly approach him because of his reputation as a brawler.

What on earth...? She was so...girly. "Finn." he huffed. "Practicin'." Easy enough answers. Finn was honestly a bit uncomfortable right now. He'd never had a conversation with a girl that didn't involve them throwing insults or telling him to get away from them.

Molly doesn't throw insults or tell people to get away unless they give her a really good reason to; she's completely oblivious to any discomfort Finn might be feeling and even if she noticed it, she's more likely to ignore it anyway because she'll talk to anyone, really. Molly smiles, tilting her head to the side. "Practicing for what? Like, the target smashing Olympics or something? Votever," she says, the habit of saying just a couple of words in a Bulgarian accent -a habit she picked up once while getting high with Viktor Krum- still not quite dying. She gestures to where Finn took a hit to the head. "You want me to, like, take a look at that or something? I have three siblings and they're all totally insane and stuff so I am totally awesome at healing spells and stuff."

Finn raised his eyebrow and just stared at her for a minute. "Practicin' fightin'," he said as though that were a really stupid question. At mention of help, he stiffened and folded his arms. "M'fine. 've taken worse." The silence was a bit awkward as he stared at her a bit more. She was kind of cute, but it was really odd to have someone just...talking to him like this. He wasn't used to it, and he never really talked to people he didn't know, either. "er...'zthere summink yeh want or...'re yeh jes roamin' th'halls fer people t'talk to?"

Molly feels the vibe turn just a bit awkward, but she's used to that and carries on as if she doesn't notice a thing out of the ordinary, her bright smile still unshakably in place. "Why would you practice fighting? Like, what about your wand?" she asks, curious. Sure, she knows plenty of wizard boys who seem to know how to use their fists, in her time she's seen Gideon throw a punch or two, but more often than not they rely on their wands for starters. She shakes her head, red hair flying about, then tosses it over her shoulder so it settles perfectly back into place. "No, I don't want anything. One of my brothers told me this corridor was a shortcut and I was checking it out and then I, like, just thought I'd say hi. So, hi!"

The first thing that came to Finn's mind was are you fucking kidding me? but he, for some reason, decided to attempt to be somewhat polite to this girl. "Coz I don' fight with me wand. If I c'n ge' close to a bloke, I c'n knock 'im out wifout 'avin t'use any magic. Muggles're hard t'beat." He said this in an almost patronizing tone, because he was beginning to get a little fed up with this girl. But not to the point that he would make her go away. It was a strangely good sensation to feel that someone actually wanted to talk to him.

"Oh." he said. "'llo." Well, now what left was there to talk about? Finn couldn't think of anything, but he was sure Molly would have no problem coming up with something.

Molly's nose screws up delicately as she tries to think it through. "But, like, why would you want to knock someone out, really? It's not something that people do often... right? I've never known anyone who has to, like, really think about things like that before," she confesses, looking at Finn with frank curiosity and a little concern, because Mama Bear worries. It's what she does. "I don't know - it totally just seems all backwards to me. Like, I'd kinda want to not have to get closer to someone if I needed to fight them because then, like, they could hurt me as much as I could hurt them and it's totally easier to defend yourself from a distance or something," she shrugs. Then she waves in response to Finn's returned greeting, late in the conversation as it may be.

Finn scrubbed at his eye with the palm of his hand for a moment. "Yer pureblood, aren't yeh?" Gods. Purebloods didn't know anything about the normal world. "Muggles ain't go' magic t'fight wif. So when they wan-ter figh', they use their fists. Lots'a people like fightin' wif me. I got-ter make sure they ain't gon-ter knock ME out."

He shook his head. "Bet yer good a' magic though." Finn wasn't horrible, but he'd never end up as someone in charge of protecting anyone else via magic. He was much better at punching people til they stopped breathing. He had a hard time with aiming the spells and jinxes right, though he did like the added power that gave him in a fight. Especially if he could use it on them without pulling out his wand. Then they could randomly sting or swell up for no reason and he would have that much more fun beating the snot out of them.

Molly holds up her hand in the 'bitch, please' pose. "Whoa! Yeah I'm pureblood but, like, my family lives in a muggle neighbourhood and we totally have heaps of muggle friends. At home you, like, wouldn't even know we're magical," she says quickly. "I just, like, don't get why fighting would be something fun or votever. Like, if you're going to fight someone anyway, shouldn't it be for a good reason and then you'd want to, I dunno, end it as quickly and painlessly as possible before stuff gets really bad? I figured that was the point of guns and stuff - get them before they get you? You can always, like, Obliviate muggles to protect the wizarding world and keep yourself out of trouble," she says, still kind of confused by concepts that have really never occurred to her before. Then she shrugs. "Depends on the type of magic. I'm, like, amazing at healing spells and house-y charms and stuff."

Finn balked. "Bu' yer a bird. Birds don' fight tha' much. 'less they're in a gang. An' yer no' in a gang." he stated matter-of-factly. "Bet yeh live in a noice part'a town, too." Damn rich bird trying to act like she knew everything.

"look. I like th'feel o' my fist poundin' int' another bloke's face. I like t'hear 'im cryin' out t'stop. An' I like t'hear 'im cry like a li'l baby when I'm 'urtin' 'im too much. Yer a girly girl, yeh wouldn't ge' tha'." He laughed at the idea of guns. He knew how to use them, but he never saw a need for them. Beating someone's face in until the needed reconstructive surgery was much better--in his opinion--to shooting them. More satisfying, too. "Look a' me. Do i look like th' type o' bloke wot don't get in-ter trouble? Me life's full'a trouble. 'vebeen in prison twice over th'summers. An' th'hospital loads'a times fer shite." He stated that as though it were something to be proud of. "Heh. Can' obliviate 'em coz I like them knowin' 'ho did tha' to 'em. So's they don' mess wif me again."

The only magic Finn was good at was transfiguration and conjuring things. Other than that, he was just good enough not to fail.

Molly bristles a little, but does not back down. Her parents work damned hard for everything she and her siblings are given, at the cost of even really knowing their kids, and Molly is not ashamed to admit she's proud of their life. "Yes, we live near Oxford. And just because I, like, hate to fight, doesn't mean I'd sit back and let anything happen to my family, you know." It's a strange dynamic for Molly, being a Prewett. She's the second youngest, but somehow she feels like the second oldest, even with Gideon and Fabian being twins. She knows Gideon can take care of himself, and really she knows that Fabian and Alice can too, but it doesn't stop her from feeling that incessant urge to protect them at all costs anyway.
She tilts her head to the side, reverting back to her thinking pose of twirling her red hair absently around her finger. A little frown line appears between her eyes. She thinks that something in Finn is broken, and the Mama Bear in her wants to fix it. "You and people, like, don't get along very well, do you?"

"Din't say tha'." he said, strangely wary of the bit of anger he sensed off of her. "Jes meant tha' I live in a diff'rent part o'town. Where people fight more."

Finn watched her as she rapidly seemed to change moods, and he was caught very off guard by her question. He wasn't quite sure what to say to it at first."I 'ate people. 'sa good fing I'm no' a people. People're a waste o'time. Why should I ge' along wif people when they don' want noffin' t'do wif me?" Finn didn't care that no one liked him. He didn't particularly want to be liked. He was fine being a loner, and he didn't find himself broken at all.

"Then you should, like, move," Molly shrugs. Yes, she is prone to saying incredibly stupid and tactless things on occasion. She frowns a little again. "How do you know people don't want anything to do with you unless you, like, try or something?" she asks, still wrapping her head around the idea that not everybody lives a comfortable upper-middle class existence and shies away from violence and spends most of their time with families and friends doing happy and fun things.

Finn scoffed. "oh sure! le' me jes get me BAGS o' money t'gether an' go buy meself a place in SoHo!" he spat at her, glaring. "I don' live where I live coz I fookin' LIKE it." This girl was going from intriguing to interesting to utterly annoying and back again so fast he couldn't keep track. This girl was very sheltered from the dark corners of the world, like the one Finn lived in, that was for sure.

"Look. People jes don' like me. I walk down th'street an' people cross it t'get away from me. People don' come up an' start conversations wif me like this. Yer fookin' strange fer talkin' t'me. I'm a bloody awful bloke wot likes t'fight an' drink an' cuss at people. Plus I don' like goin' up t'people an' speakin' first. Got one too many beers in me face fer tha'."

"Oh. Right. Totally didn't think of that," Molly says, tossing her hair easily over her shoulder to hide the fact that she feels a bit bad about the tactlessness. She shrugs. "I talk to anyone. Like, how do I know I don't like someone, or do like them, if I don't talk to them and find out? They might be a complete douchebag, or they might be, like, totally awesome and we'll make the bestest friends ever. What if I never met a really cool person just because I, like, followed everyone else and crossed the street to get away from them? That would suck. And for the record; I am not 'fucking strange', the term you are looking for is 'totally awesome'," she says airily. It's genetic, after all. Then she blinks. "I totally just placed your accent. Cockney, right? D'you live in London, then? Were you born there?" she wonders, because she's curious and she doesn't have a brain/mouth filter, which is a dangerous combination. She just might be a little slow on the uptake, not having placed it before...

He sighed. Finn was about ready to pick up his stuff and just go, but he didn't. What a dense bint, he thought to himself. "Jesus. yeh've never been outside o' yer li'l pretty 'ome an' 'Ogwarts, 'ave yeh? Never seen th' dark side o' th' world? Th' parts wot people try t'pretend don't exist? Th' parts wot people tell t'their kids t'scare 'em int' comin' 'ome early so's they don' get snatched up? Yeh fink everyfing's jes roses an' shite, save fer y'know..." Honestly, he'dve said Voldemort if she wouldn't have freaked out about it. He wasn't scared of a bloody name. But that had to be the only explanation. He'd met stupid people before, but she didn't seem stupid. Just....sheltered.

"Look. People don' talk t'me, an' I don' talk t'people. I like it tha' way. 'Ve got me friends, don't need no more of 'em. They jes weigh yeh down." He shook his head, "Nah, yer fookin' strange. Ain't nothin' in this bloody crapsack world wot's "awesome"." Finn raised his eyebrow. "...yeh. An' no. Born in Wales." A small part of him was wondering why she was still talking to him, or better yet, why he was still talking to her.

"I go other places," Molly says defensively, shifting a little on the spot, but even she has to admit that she's never even seen the world Finn is describing to her. She's starting to see why people don't generally talk to this guy, but she's not ready to give up quite yet. He's rough and he's rude and every word he's said to her is pretty much angling towards 'bugger off', but he's interesting. Curiosity keeps getting the better of her, stopping her from making some polite excuse to leave and then not looking back. "If everything's roses and shite, you do realise that, like, the shite part isn't meant to be so good, right?" she says cheekily, then shrugs. Whatever. "So why can't I be both strange and awesome? Are they, like, not allowed to mix or something? Rules are only guidelines you know."

Dom has no idea what hallways are open or not, so this one will do.
Anyway.

Scorpius is walking through the hallway, a big change from his usual place in his dorm where Dom usually posts him.

Kras is just walking about before his classes in the afternoon. He's just come from his dorm and leaving all those cookies on that pretty yellow plate on Reed's bed. Turning a corner into another hallway, a huge grin breaks out on his face when he spots a friend he hasn't seen in ages. "Hey, Scorpius! It's been a vhile!"

[Posting here so I can creep better. Don't mind me... *whistles*]

Well, that's a good reason for being in the hallway. Seeing as Scorpius doesn't go to classes, Dom's not quite sure what he's doing. Maybe just looking for his Albie or something. He grinned when he spotted Kras, for it really had been a long time since he saw him. "Hey Krasimir!" he said, happy to see the Puff. "It has been a while. How have you been?"

"I've been good...vell, more than good, I've been great!" Kras flails happily. He really really really wants to tell his friend about Reed...and there's no holding back as good as news as that. "I may or may not have found myself the most adorable boyfriend ever and his name may or may not be Reed Dawson...and oh my, he's just amazing." Kras gushes out and then his face goes quaffle red. "And I vill stop now or you'll be hearing about him for hours. How have you been?"