Another night of detention (Francis)

[Genevieve Stark]

Genevieve walks slowly, and very reluctantly, into the immense trophy room followed closely by Filch and his decrepit old cat. It had been a really long day, one of those where everything that could go wrong did. She was late to two of her classes, she never turned in her essay for History of Magic, she spilled pumpkin juice all over herself during lunch, and she managed to make her potion explode (yet again) during class. The latter is the reason she's here tonight - detention with Filch for consistent carelessness and irresponsibility. At least those where Professor Black's words. In Gen's opinion, it is not her fault that she doesn't have the patience to stir the bloody contents of the burning hot cauldron for five minutes straight at a consistent arm-numbing speed. Although she did feel bad for catching that one girl's hair on fire for a second time this week.

With a heavy sigh she stops in front of one of the display cases and turns to look at the old man, her hands out to receive the rag and can of polish she is to use to carry out her punishment tonight. She's been through this before, of course. Gen is known for getting herself into trouble (Although it is not usually by choice. If you were to ask her she'd tell you that trouble finds her, not the other way around.), and in her 7 years at Hogwarts she has done her fair share of trophy polishing. And tonight is no different than any other of those long boring nights. Filch will hand her the items, give her the speech she never listens to, and remind her one last time before he leaves the room that she is NOT to use magic. Blah, blah, blah... She just wishes he'd take the bloody cat with him, she goes tattling to him everytime she stops for a rest.

She opens the case and carefully picks up the first trophy, an old Quidditch one from like 100 years ago, and starts to polish it, giving Filch a look that says "See? I'm doing it, you can go now." Because as soon as he's gone she'll be charming the rag to do all the work while she sits at one of the tables and finishes the essay for Professor Binns.

When Filch looks at the clock with narrowed eyes and grunts, she wonders..."Why is he still here?"

[Francis Eric Thorne]

Francis trudged towards the Trophey Room, grumbling. This was the second detention this week. Granted, it wasn't the first History of Magic essay he'd forgotten to do, but he hardly thought he deserved a detention for it. He'd get it done at some point. He always did.

Pushing open the door, he was met by a gleeful looking Filtch. He hated how delighted the caretaker always looked at the prospect of students facing a dull night of detention, but he'd learned years ago that there was no point in saying anything. Still, at the same time, there was no way he was going to apologise about being late.

Francis stalked across to the desk and let his bag crash down heavily before he actually took a look around the room. There was another girl there, one he recognised from his History of Magic class. She was a Slytherin, and from what he knew, definitely not the sort of person he'd get on with. Great, he thought to himself, but he stayed resolutely silent, even as he picked up the rag left out for him and crossed to the open Trophey cabinet.

[Genevieve Stark]

*Genevieve rolled her eyes when the boy enterered the room, the realisation that she'd be spending the next few hours with the Hufflepuff was not half as aggravating as the fact that her hopes of finally having some time alone were shattered by his entrance. She looks up at Filch and mutters with sarcasm.*

I get a detention buddy....wonderful.

*She steps aside when Francis joins her at the cabinet, recognising him as the one who finally got a rise out of Professor Binns earlier today. She can't help but snicker at the memory. She'd never seen Binns show any type of emotion before, much less anger. Gen turns to him when Filch finally exits the room, Mrs. Norris leaving with him.*

Good job with Binns today. Seriously, that was the most excitement we've seen in that class these many years.

*She snickers again, placing the gleaming cup back in its place and retrieving another.*

[Francis Eric Thorne]

Francis busied himself, picking up a trophey and beginning to polish it as he heard Filtch leave the room, obviously satisfied that the two detainees were working hard. Francis glanced sidewards at Genevieve as she spoke. She was stunningly beautiful, but Francis could tell her beauty was laced with a Slytherin-pride superiority. It should have made her completely unattractive to him, but Francis had always had a habit of fancying girls that were absolutely and completely in a whole other league to him. Not that she was any better than him, but he could almost certainly guaruntee she thought she was.

"Yeah, well it takes some real skill to get a rise out of a dead guy," Francis replied, getting back to concentrating on polishing the trophy he was holding. "Would probably feel more satisfied with it if I'd actually been trying to do it though..."

[Genevieve Stark]

*Genevieve looks up at him, laughing now.*

Are you sure? Because that was like, what, the third time this week you placed the spotlight on yourself? You must have known it was coming.

*She crosses over to the nearest table, placing both the trophy and polishing rag down upon it.*

Binns spat your name out so many times even I know it now. Thorne, right?

*Very nonchalantly she pulls out her wand and aims it at the rag she just placed on the table. Two seconds later, Gen watches it dip itself in the polish and start to scrub away at the trophy next to it.*

I suspect you won't be telling on me for doing a bit of...cheating. Will you? I really have to finish my homework. The same one you got in trouble for, as a matter of fact.

*She gives him a sideways glance, a tiny smirk (or was it a smile?) playing upon her lips, before turning to her bag and digging for her parchment and quill.*

[Francis Eric Thorne]

Francis laughed slightly, shaking his head. "I just have a knack for forgetting to do essays," he said, still looking down as he polished. He didn't actually like drawing attentiong to himself, and getting called out for things like being late just added to his already customary glare as he sat at the back of the room, but he couldn't help but laugh at his misfortune this week. Somehow he had managed to catch Binns' attention when the man had even managed to miss his own death. It was really quite a feat.

"Yeah," Francis mumbled. "Francis Thorne." He didn't need to ask her name. It was Genevieve Stark. You didn't have girls that pretty in your class for seven years without picking up their names.

Francis didn't realise that Genevieve had walked away until she spoke again from behind him. He looked up and watched the rag begin to polish the trophy she'd been holding. He cleared his throat. "I won't tell if you get my rag to do that too... I need to do my essay." He really begrudged asking for help with magic. It wasn't that he didn't like magic, he just hated having to be dependant on it. But tonight he really needed to save time. If he did all this polishing by hand, he'd be here all night and still have to get his essay done when he got back to the Hufflepuff common room.

[Genevieve Stark]

*She slowly turns to look back at him, one eyebrow raised and eyes filled with curiosity.*

Do you mean to say you don't know how to do it yourself? The charm, I mean. You ARE a seventh year, no?

*She snickers, shaking her head while pulling out her wand and aiming it at his rag. Genevieve is just about to use the spell when she stops suddenly, wand still aimed but her eyes back on him. Smirking.*

I'll make you a deal. I'll make sure all the trophies in here are nice and shiny by the time Filch gets back if you finish my essay for me. Then I'll have time to catch up with my potions reading.

Which might actually do me some good...

*The last sentence was muttered as almost a whisper, while a touch of pink settled on her pale cheeks. Gen can't help but be embarrassed to admit that she's not quite so good (disastrous!) at something, she's a Slytherin after all. But if he agrees to help her with the essay, then perhaps she can make it through the next potions class accident-free. All she has to do, she thinks, is read and actually comprehend the assigned chapters. "Piece of cauldron cake!" she thinks to herself, immediately followed by a "Yeah right!"*

*Noticing that she had run away with her thoughts she snaps back and lowers her wand, placing that same hand on her hip.*

So what do you say, Francis?

[Francis Eric Thorne]

Francis carried his trophy back across to the table. He was surprised she was even willing to help him, although everything fell into place when she made her proposition. Trust her, a Slytherin, to make the most out of his mysery. "Did you not here when I said I needed to do my essay? Or did you hear it and just decide to completely ignore it?" He put the trophy and rag down, deciding definitely not to reply to her first question. He felt stupid enough at this school without making a fool of himself trying to cast spells infront of a beautiful Slytherin evil witch.

[Genevieve Stark]

*Gen's head falls to one side, sizing him up. She's never met a Hufflepuff with an attitude before. They've all always practically fallen all over themselves trying to keep others from being upset with them. Granted, she didn't have any Huffie friends to compare him to; mostly Slytherins and a couple of Ravenclaws. But still, he had an edge she found "intriguing".*

I heard you. But since you're wanting me to do something for you, it's only fair that I get something in return. Besides, my essay is more than half way done. All you would have to do is come up with a good conclusion. It would take you soooo much longer to shiny up your half of the room. Don't you think?

*Motions to the rows upon rows of trophies they have to make sure are completely dust free before their three hours are up.*

Still a no? Well, alright. I'll just leave you to it then.

*Shrugs and points her wand at her charmed rag, levitating it over to the open case so it can move from one trophy to another with ease. It's not that she didn't know the material to finish the essay on her own, it's that she didn't want to do it. And the agreement seemed like a fair and easy way out of the job. If he didn't want to take her up on her offer then fine, nothing would have changed anyway. She will still have to stay up an extra hour or two tonight to prepare for Potions class tomorrow. Because if she messes up her potion again, she may just end up spending another night doing Filch's dirty work.*

[Francis Eric Thorne]

Francis watched her for a moment, balancing up his options. On one hand, he really did need the three hours to get his work done, but equally, she was making him feel stupid and he hated that. He would rather be stubborn and polish every single trophy by hand rather than give in so she could be all smug.

"Fine, screw you then," Francis growled with a shrug, picking up his rag and trophy before slumping down in a chair to polish. At least while he was polishing he could look at her every now and again, which writing would have made harder. "I bet you're so used to everyone doing exactly what you want," he commented, his eyes on her, narrowed slightly.

[Genevieve Stark]

*Genevieve narrows her eyes right back at him, playfully mocking his outburst.*

You wish, Hufflepuff.

*She shakes her head and returns to diggging through her bag with a snicker. Once her books, parchment and quill are neatly set down on the table she pulls back a chair and gets comfortable, thinking about his last statement. Of course she doesn't always get her way! It would be brilliant if she did, who wouldn't want that. But it wasn't true.*

I'm curious, Thorne. Why do you think that?

*She leans back on her chair, tucking a strand of bright red hair behind her ear before crossing her arms over her chest.*

What is it about me that leads you to make that assumption? Is it my attitude? My beauty? My confidence? What?

*She truly does wonder. Because he's pretty much got all those things as well, but he definitely does not come across as a spoiled brat. Just a handsome boy with anger issues, who happens to have been sorted into a very unfortunate house.*

[Francis Eric Thorne]

Francis rolled his eyes at her comment, trying his best to keep his mind off screwing her. That definitely would not be a beneficial direction to let his mind wander in. He already felt like he was betraying his principles by finding a Slytherin attractive.

Standing up, Francis crossed to the trophy case, placing the freshly polished one back before picking up another and making his way back to his seat to start on the new one. He kept his eyes on his work even as she spoke. "I've been here for six years. I've noticed that Slytherin girls like you usually get whatever they want," he said dryly, rubbing hard at a patch of tarnish on the base of the trophy. In fact, he was surprised she was in detention at all. Must have been a woman teacher that put her here; someone who wouldn't care how pretty a face was.

He looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "That and the fact that you're clearly aware of the characteristics which get you everything." Attitude, beauty, confidence: she certainly had all of those. Obviously modisty and humility weren't amoung her strong points. He shook his head slightly. "Come on. We both know you weren't sorted into Slytherin for nothing."

[Genevieve Stark]

*Smiles, now tickling her chin with her pheasant-feather quill.*

You say that as if you think that being self aware is a bad thing. Yes, Slytherins are taught to love themselves, to find what their strongest qualities are and to use them to their advantage. But that doesn't mean we always get what we want, and I stress always because we do get our way a lot of the time. It just means we are driven.

*Shrugs, as if her words were as simple and true as the stars in the night sky. She then places the tip of her self-inking quill on the parchment and starts to work on her essay...although she's finding it hard to concentrate. You see, she likes to try and read people. And Francis is turning out to be a very interesting subject; she can't figure him out. She wonders if he's muggle born too. That may explain some of the mystery, because she knows next to nothing about them. Only the stuff they teach you in class, which is worthless.

She asks her question without looking up from the parchment, afraid that her eyes will give away her sudden interest in him.*

What drives you, Francis?

[Francis Eric Thorne]

Francis didn't reply to her spiel about being taught to recognise her strongest qualities. He was sure it wasn't quite that simple. You had to have certain qualities in order to be taught to rescue them. He looked at her for a moment as she began writing, before looking down at the trophy he was working on.

He was pretty sure that was the end of the conversation. After all, he couldn't quite work out why she'd decided to talk to him in the first place - she never usually did. He was taken a little by surprise when she addressed him again. Looking up at her, he frowned slightly. He wasn't sure what drove him. "Er... wanting to get out of here?" he ventured, although that wasn't entirely true. He'd stayed on for his Newts because he knew it meant a lot to his mother, so that being the case, it was probably his mothers expectations that was driving him in regards to school. Although he was hardly going to tell her he was a mummy's boy. "And when I do, I'm going to own my own business," he finished, shrugging. "That's what drives me. And I don't have to take advantage of anyone to get it," he said pointedly, still looking at her.

[Genevieve Stark]

*Gen rolls her eyes. There he goes again with the taking advantage of people thing. That's not at all what she said. And she is resourceful enough on her own to not have to... She dismisses the thought, her head shaking slowly. Whatever, he can think what he wants. But she does want to hear more about his plans. So she looks up at him.*

Start your own business? What kind of business?

*She catches herself staring, so she quickly looks down, returning her gaze to the parchment and quill and starting on a new paragraph.*

You don't have to answer. I'm just curious.

*She remarked without looking up, asking herself why in Merlin's name she was so intrigued by this guy.*