Mistaken Identity ((Tristan & Jez))

[Ariane Chan]

((Follows on from Jovial Pretences.))

“Bye.” Ariane’s lips twitched upwards in a grateful smile at George and Jenny. They returned the small gesture with brighter ones of their own, Jenny drawing Ariane into an awkward but loving hug.
“Need anything, just send Atalanta.” Jenny whispered into Ariane’s ear in reassurance and let her go in mild reluctance. Ariane nodded stiffly, before it was Harmony’s turn, then Leo and Aurora’s, to be embraced by their emotional mother. Ariane could remember when it was her own mum standing on this very platform, waving goodbye to them with tears shining in her eyes. Ariane missed that warmth; Jenny’s could never really live up to it, and she knew that too. She could only try her best, and Ariane was appreciative of everything her uncle and aunt had bestowed upon her during this long summer holiday. However, Ariane was so thankful it was coming to an end now; she had had enough of days filled with so little all she could think about was her mother. When she returned to Hogwarts, it would NEWTs she would be tackling with enthusiastic fervour, and all her time could be forced onto something which could drive the dark thoughts away.

Watching Jenny say some final words to Aurora, Ariane decided it was time she slipped away. She had already spent the train ride coming back to London away from her family and friends, and there had been endless questions concerning her absence. However, Ariane had just replied emotionlessly that she had been ‘enjoying time alone’, and Aurora and Harmony hadn’t asked anything more after that; after all, they knew what Ariane was like. It was just typical of her behaviour. Ariane knew that if she disappeared now they wouldn’t be happy with her, Harmony particularly, but Ariane couldn’t face a train ride with them, just like last time. The thought was somehow depressing. She’d be spending most of her days ahead with Aurora (except in lessons), and Harmony when she could, and Ariane knew she needed space away from them before she went insane. Slipping past some new and excited first year students, Ariane ignored everyone that walked past her and headed for the end of the train, the last carriage. She had a brief encounter with Jez Cuthbert, fellow Gryffindor sixth year now, but she brushed it off as nothing important. As she had suspected, her preferred carriage was empty; lots of students were still outside on the platform, making teary farewells. A bitter taste rose in Ariane’s mouth, but she quickly swallowed and slammed the compartment door shut. No more, she thought. No more.

Time ticked by. Ariane had been sitting against the window for a about quarter of an hour, until the train jerked into action and began moving at a slow pace. Relieved they were finally on their way, Ariane shuffled herself into a more comfortable position, and judged the outside world with an indifferent expression. She had specifically chosen the side of the train which faced the other track for the opposing train, so she didn’t have to see any of the waving parents as they left. The platform across was empty save for a single man sitting on a bench, smoking a cigarette nonchalantly as he surveyed the sky. Following his line of sight, Ariane observed the fair skies with little care. Puffs of white drifted serenely against the backdrop of azure, a common sight in England when it wasn’t raining. Ariane remembered the day she had returned to London on this train the weather had been pretty much the same. She recalled the same shade of blue… the same cerulean of Tristan MacCay’s eyes. Ariane wondered why she still could not forget such a boy. Especially after what had happened between them in Diagon Alley since the train ride, Ariane was meant to be extremely unhappy about him and everything she felt for him. But still… in her heart she knew she held something more than hatred for the Slytherin.

Just as Ariane was about to banish any annoyed thoughts of Tristan from her mind, the compartment door slid open, causing Ariane to glance up in displeasure. Did anyone respect the fact she liked her solitude? However, before she could state her mind, her eyes locked with a pair of all too familiar azure orbs, causing Ariane to freeze in anger, fear, surprise and… plain recognition. A second passed before she quickly composed herself and forced her eyes into daggers of cool ice. “Tristan MacCay. You dare place yourself in my presence again after what happened in Diagon Alley?”

[Tristan MacCay]

"Are you going to join me this time, MacCay?" Katya asked with that annoyed tone she usually used when she spoke to Tristan. It wasn't like he wasn't used to the tone, but sometimes he wished she would speak to him in a bit of a nicer one. "Probably not," he told her with a nonchalant shrug, "I'd prefer not to catch cold from sitting in a compartment with the ice queen." Katya looked at him with a steady glare, almost as if she were about to pounce on him like Anya, her kitten, almost always did. Tristan shrugged again and smiled at her before climbing onto the scarlet train engine, his eyes dancing with humour. It was always so interesting to get Katya annoyed, especially because she never said anything back to him. Not unless it was something along the lines of… "Alright, fine, MacCay, do what you please… you know where to find me if you want better company." And then she would disappear in the opposite direction as she was at that moment. Tristan watched her walk away, her brown hair swinging against her shoulders, before he turned on his heel and headed toward a compartment. His mind drifted back to the last time he was on this train, going from Hogwarts to home. It had been a surprising train ride, not one that Tristan would have seen himself being a part of before it had happened. It was just one of those things that happened when you didn't really expect them to. Tristan hadn't been able to stop thinking about the train ride, and he was hoping to find an empty compartment so he could continue to think about it. He wanted to keep his mind off Diagon Alley. He didn't want to let it wander back to the idea that Ariane might be with that Cuthbert guy.

He hadn't stuck around long enough to find out if they were together afterward, but he made it his priority to break Olivia and Jez up, which he did, he was fairly certain, successfully. Tristan kept mentally scolding himself for caring what happened to Ariane, and he knew he had to get himself in the right composure before he arrived at school. In order to do that he would have to stop thinking about her, which was ironic if you think about the reason he wanted to sit alone, but Tristan just had to think about her once more. He hadn't realised that he had nearly reached the end of the car, and so he turned to the nearest compartment and slid open the door, dragging his trunk in behind him. When he looked up, Tristan nearly felt the air be knocked out of him. A compartment shared with Katya was looking better with every second he stared at Ariane Chan. The silence between them seemed to stretch for hours, but it wasn't more than a couple of minutes, Tristan was sure. Finally, she spoke, and Tristan felt his face crumple into confusion. There wasn’t anything she could know about what happened in Diagon Alley. What was she going on about? Tristan started to question that, but instead he shrugged and closed the compartment door; "Obviously it couldn't have been too bad for you to talk to me still, Chan." He took a glance at his hands, as he made sure the door was latched shut. They were shaking. Tristan turned back to look at her for a moment before moving to put up his trunk. He was completely aware of the fact that Ariane might not have wanted his company, but at that particular moment – he didn't really care.

To show how much he really didn't care, he sank into the seat opposite her and watched her intently. She didn't seem to be in pain like she had been the last train ride, and that made Tristan feel a bit better – because he'd admit that he was worried about her health over the summer hols even though he probably shouldn't have been. The only thing that seemed to be different from the last time he had seen her was that look of fear that had crossed her face in Diagon Alley had been replaced with a look of hatred. Tristan didn't like that look, but he didn't squirm beneath it. He just sat there, still as stone, for about five minutes before he spoke in a calm tone of voice; "What incident are you referring to exactly?" Tristan had rested his right ankle on his left knee and his elbows were resting on his legs, his fingers pressed together as he watched Ariane. He had this nagging feeling in his stomach that told him she thought he had done something he hadn't done, unless she knew about him breaking up Jez and Olivia…he couldn't quite understand, though, how that would bother her unless she did have a thing for Jez… and that thought just made him sick to his stomach. Why? Well, he would tell you it was because Ariane could do much better than Jezzy-bell Cuthbert… but there were other reasons he wouldn’t speak of.

[Ariane Chan]

Ariane kept her eyes trained intently on Tristan. God, she hated this boy. She hated the fact he had extended a caring hand to her on this very same train which she had accepted, and then he had turned around in the summer to shatter her ‘confidence’ right in front of her face. Ariane knew it was… it was so stupid of her to even begin to trust Tristan, think of him as… as a friend. Perhaps that’s what she had started to ponder after the last train ride. He had certainly struck a chord within her, however much she wanted to forget the experience and deny all connections. Tristan had wormed his way in somehow, and Ariane couldn’t forget the feeling of being protected by him, even if it was for a few moments, even if he probably didn’t think he was protecting her. Right now though, Ariane felt stripped so bare before Tristan’s eyes, as if he could see right through her outer shields and into her innermost, deepest vulnerabilities. Ariane knew, especially after his ‘betrayal’ in Diagon Alley, after he had made fun of her and yanked at her pride when she was crying so bitterly in the ladies’ restroom, that she should no longer even look at Tristan like he mattered. He was the same Slytherin she had thought he was before that train ride. And yet… yet something drew her to him. The blonde hair falling over his eyes, that cerulean blue training on hers filled with hidden emotions Ariane knew she also stored within herself. Oh, and that smile. She lov—liked looking at that smile, even though she hadn’t seen it since July. She could remember every detail. It was like Ariane was staring into a reflection of herself in the mirror; layers stripped bare with only the surface for you to bruise if you weren’t careful enough.

Ariane blinked and her past thoughts faded. Tristan’s first words caused her to return to the present where she looked at him indifferently, pondering over his meaning. Was he insinuating that he wanted her to talk to him? That her speaking to him was a good thing? No, he couldn’t possibly mean that, Ariane chose to believe. Or she tried to choose to believe. Tristan looked so innocent at her claims, she began to doubt herself. But then she reviewed her thoughts, and let her defiance rise in retaliation. She wanted to let his comment pass by her like it didn’t matter, but she couldn’t stop her mouth opening and spilling out automatically. “It’s enough for me not to want to look at you ever again.” Ariane quietly stated, her eyes averted to the floor. Lies, lies, lies! Her head chanted like a demon in the background. Quickly her eyes flashed upwards to catch him also looking at her. Surprised, Ariane couldn’t tear her gaze away from him looking so… so… exposed. Her eyes caught the shaking of his hand against the compartment door, and she couldn’t stop looking at them, his shaking catching her off guard until he deserted his standing position and moved to sit opposite her. Ariane didn’t object; she didn’t have the inner strength to protest, however much she hated Tristan right now, or wanted to hate him. True, what he had done to her felt like a stab in the back; it was unforgivable. But… but what? Why did Ariane still see fit to speak to him? Was that train ride really such a big impact on her emotions? Was she really this weak against one man?

The silence that followed reigned supreme over the moving train for a several minutes, until Tristan chose to break it. Meanwhile, Ariane kept her eyes trained fixedly outside the window, scared he’d make her reveal something she didn’t want to. She didn’t want a repeat of the last journey. However, she couldn’t help but listen to Tristan’s words, and feel familiar anger curl in her stomach. Her pride stung, and her heart… god, it hurt. “'What incident?'” Ariane was scoffing aloud before she knew it. She couldn’t stop it; she’d always been in control, but she was just so angry, so upset. “Tristan, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” Shaking her head in a bitter, sarcastic tone, Ariane’s hand flew to her face to brush heatedly at the strands of black now falling over her eyes in her emotional movement. The hair just kept falling her face though, as if wanting to obscure Tristan from the view of Ariane’s moist eyes, which darted anywhere but his face. A mild contrast to her forced tone of voice. “I mean...” Ariane sought for the right words, but found none. Everything she spoke all her life had been planned; she always pondered over her actions before she carried them out, and the same principle applied to speaking. Ariane was always careful so she didn’t cause a scene. However, right now she was speechless when she wanted to talk, and yet she was sure she didn’t want to speak to Tristan ever again. The inner conflict in her mind was a growing, untended-to pain.

“I mean, what do you want with me?” Ariane finally stressed with a shaking voice. “Do you enjoy watching people suffer by your hands? Stalk them and then humiliate them secretly, and try to act like you never did it?” Ariane demanded in heated tones, stabilising her tone just barely. “Because I am not going to ever forget what you said. If it gives you pleasure knowing those words were… were like a thousand knives stabbing into my heart,” Ariane paused as she fought back tears of remembrance; the memories seemed so fresh and clear in her mind. “Then so be it. But after today I don’t want to see you ever again unless necessary. Is that clear? Forgive and forget aren’t words I use in my dictionary, and I hate backstabbers. I hate two-faced people and I hate liars. You are every single one of those things, Tristan, and I can’t believe you can even look me in the eye again. You’re unbelievable.” Ariane unconsciously shuffled her small figure into the corner of the seat against the window, head leaning against the pane of cold glass as her eyes focused on passing greenery. “Is loneliness too much to ask?” She ended in a whisper.

[Tristan MacCay]

Tristan smirked openly at Ariane, "Well, if that's the case, Chan, I must say you're doing an awful job of looking away from me." He tilted his head at her in a curious sort of manner, watching her intently. There was something in his gut that was telling him he really should just get up and leave, never looking back on this Gryffindor girl ever again – but a bigger part of Tristan told him that if he did that he would regret it. He wasn't quite sure what made him feel that way, but he did and there was no way around it. Tristan was a master at denying his feelings, no matter how strong they were – but he was finding it difficult to deny these ones, whatever they were. He continued to watch her even as she finally did look away, and by now, he was sitting opposite her – his fingertips pressed together as a way to suppress his shaking. He had asked her what incident she was referring to, in a calm voice and the response he received probably wasn't one he was looking for. In the least, it didn't clear up his confusion or his fear. "Well, obviously I don't, Ariane. If I had any inkling to what incident you are referring to I wouldn't have asked. I don't like to appear dense." His tone had started snappish, as it usually did when he felt attacked or was frustrated in some way, but when he had reached her name, his tone softened a bit as did his eyes. He didn't want to be angry with her, it was bad enough she was angry with him. She seemed to stumble with words for a moment or so, not quite sure what she was saying. Tristan felt certain that she was one of those types who had every word planned before she said it, but for some reason she was having a difficult time grasping the words she wanted to say. Tristan waited, patiently, as she seemed to grab onto something concrete.

When she spoke again, this time forming more than a few words, Tristan felt like she had whacked him over the head with a frying pan. An amused grin split across his face after she went on, though, because it was as if she had pegged him. Well, the old him. And in that instant it was as if the old him had snapped back to life. There had been something about this girl that tamed the beast inside him, the one who loved to humiliate, but now; with her anger leashing uncontrollably at him, Tristan felt the need to defend himself; "Now, now, Chan, if I had humiliated you – it wouldn’t have been secretly. Are you sure you have the right person here? I mean, forget the fact that I would never humiliate you, but –" Tristan stretched, putting his feet up beside Ariane, his hands locked together behind his head, "it doesn't seem my style to humiliate secretly. No, no, what's the point of humiliation then?" If the old him had resurfaced, it went hiding again the moment Ariane said it felt like a thousand knives stabbing her in her heart. This was when Tristan became positive that he didn't do what she had thought he had done. Tristan frowned and shook his head vehemently, his eyes locked on Ariane as she continued talking about how he was a liar, back stabber, and two faced. She turned so she couldn't look at him, and then she whispered something that it took Tristan a couple of minutes to make out. Finally, he sighed and sat up on the edge of his seat, leaning forward so he could look Ariane in the eye, even though she wasn't looking at him; "I assure you, Ariane, I did not do what you think I did. I don't even know what you're talking about. Trust me enough to believe that I'm not lying to you." He had to resist every urge to reach out and turn her face to his, "I'm not asking for you to trust me more than anyone on this planet, but just enough to know that I wouldn't lie to you about this. If I had humiliated you in any way, Ariane, I would admit to it… proudly. That's just the kind of jerk I am."

He let his words hang in the air between them before continuing," If it's loneliness you want, Ariane, I suppose I have no right to intrude. However, getting my trunk down now would be murder and however much you want me dead, I would like to live. So I plan on staying in the compartment until we reach Hogsmeade. Don't worry, though, I'll keep quiet and mind my own business. It'll be as if I was never here." Tristan managed a small smile before standing from his seat and reaching up to a small compartment on his trunk which held an old copy of his favourite book. He had had it for years and so it was worn and battered, but it was one of those things that calmed him down in a tense situation. Tristan collapsed back down on the seat he was sitting in previously and laid down on his back, opening the book and bending his cover back to read from where he had left off. They sat in silence, as Ariane wished, and as hard as Tristan tried to focus on the book he had read a hundred or so times over, he couldn't. The words weren't comprehendible to Tristan and so he sat, determined to give Ariane the space she wanted.


((Wasn't quite sure where to go after this. :-\ But it's up and not the longest.. sorry!))

[Ariane Chan]

Ariane rolled her eyes at Tristan’s sarcastic and characteristically arrogant comment. Trust him to be so condescending, so self-righteous! It made her nerves stand on end in frustration. No one annoyed Ariane quite as much as Tristan MacCay. Why? Because she hated how vulnerable he was able to render her; how she had been so close to trusting him, but then realised with a smack in the face that he wasn’t at all the person she had built up in her mind. It had been wishful thinking to imagine Tristan as the good guy. Ariane blamed herself for being so… stupid, so naïve. How did she take in that handsome face, those twinkling blue eyes, as someone she could possibly come to enjoy the company of? She should’ve taken one glance at his house badge and decided then and there he was just like all the other idiots in Slytherin. Oh, how Ariane wished she had been more cynical, more stereotypical. Yet she knew she wasn’t, even with Tristan hurting her like this; Aurora’s words echoed hauntingly in her ear, and she knew them to be right. People were meant to give other people chances. Even Tristan had said that. “Yeah, well look where listening to him and believing in him as gotten you.” Ariane thought bitterly, deciding not to answer Tristan’s jibe, because she didn’t want to lose her temper here. Causing a scene on the train as a prefect was not a good idea. That reminded her… The prefects had to meet up later before they arrived at the castle; the perfect excuse for Ariane to leave Tristan alone. So she looked away from the boy’s intent stare, her lips kept tightly shut and pursed in a defiant manner. She would remain indifferent for the time being. Honestly her entire being just wanted to bolt from the carriage; it seemed to be the natural instinctive reaction to Tristan’s face; but Ariane forcibly controlled herself to remain still and silent. She was strong in the face of adversity; Tristan could not change that part of her.

Ariane was aware of Tristan sitting down opposite her, sharp silence stretching between them, separating this wide gulf more and more, until Tristan chose to make a break for it. Once he had finished speaking, Ariane’s mouth automatically opened to say something angry, but just at the last moment her brain stopped it, and no sound came out. Control! her mind screamed loudly in her ears, before she sent Tristan a withering, disbelieving look from the corner of her eyes. She still couldn’t believe he was denying his actions so openly. She hadn’t taken Tristan to be a liar. “You’re an awful liar.” She merely stated testily, turning her gaze to stare out of the window again. A déjà vu feeling ran down her spine, and Ariane could still remember the previous train ride clearly in her mind; how her eyes had glued themselves to the pane of glass to refrain from cracking before Tristan. But in the end, she couldn’t stop herself. However, Ariane was stronger this time round; she had recovered one hundred percent since her mother’s death. Nothing bogged her down; not even one Tristan MacCay. Or rather, Ariane couldn’t let it weigh her life down. However, as Tristan continued to defend his actions, she felt her resolve slip a little; doubts surfaced in her mind. She almost let her mask drop when he said he would never humiliate her (certainly, she could not let herself believe that!), but she resolutely held it in place, not a frown so much as falling off. She did tense however when unsurprisingly Tristan drew his feet up beside her rigid figure. Her eyes narrowed to stare down at his shoes almost in disgust that he was that close to touching her. She wanted to shove his legs away in refusal to tolerate him, a rejection of his presence, but couldn’t bring herself to touch him physically.

Ariane’s eyes trailed back up to Tristan’s face when he asked her what the point of humiliation was. “You are sick.” She muttered coldly, shaking her head in a little disbelief. His comments were so derogatory, if Ariane had had the stomach she probably would have retched here and now. Tristan could become so high and almighty… wait, he didn’t become this person, he was this person. The Tristan she had seen a several weeks ago was just a mask to draw her in, like a moth to a flame. Well, Ariane wasn’t going to bite the bait this time; there were no second chances with her. However, Tristan was shaking his head so fervently it caused her to look at him reproachfully. He began to talk again before she could though, and made claims of innocence, which Ariane had of course been expecting. She had been preparing for this; either this, or being snubbed openly in the face by the Slytherin. But he looked genuinely confused as he asked her to trust him. “Trust you?” Ariane managed to say incredulously before she snapped it shut. Why couldn’t she control herself? “Trust you?” She managed again in lower, calmer tones. A cold voice to match a cold demeanour, a cold soul. But he continued, and Ariane bit her lip in doubt. She didn’t want to admit it… but she wanted to believe him too. It was then Tristan effectively ended their conversation though, leaving Ariane repeating his exact words over and over in her mind. Ariane’s head is hard to decipher, but imagine this: Ariane is blood red, the colour of crimson, and Tristan is a bright, vivid green. Red and green don’t go – they weren’t colours made to mix. But by a sudden fluke, the red paint cracks, and green is let loose to run wildly across it, filling those cracks. And what do you get? The colour of Christmas, perhaps? Ariane wasn’t sure, and maybe she wanted to find out, but… trust? Ariane couldn’t do trust. Even if she wanted it.

Ariane made no sound to Tristan’s final comments and just… sat there. Silent. Stony. He grabbed a book and proceeded to read, but his eyes barely flickered across the page as she watched him like a hawk. Reading? Ariane almost snorted. As if. But it showed he was thinking… or maybe she was making him uncomfortable. This wasn’t the way she had expected him to act after humiliating her… she had been expecting the boy she normally saw along the school corridors, laughing arrogantly, not the boy she had met briefly on the train some time back. She hadn’t expected to see that boy ever again. But maybe she wanted to. Finally giving in to longing and confusion, Ariane gave a long, heartfelt sigh which reverberated around the space they occupied, and tried to catch Tristan’s eyes. Her mouth opened to say something, before she was interrupt quite cruelly by the slamming open of the carriage door. Ariane started, and with an angry face whipped round to snap at the rude intruder. “What?!” However, looking up, there was no one standing in the doorway. An annoyed frown of confusion gripped her brow, and with another long suffering sugh, Ariane stood up. She refused to touch Tristan and waited until he lowered his legs for her to pass to shut the door again. Returning to her seat, Ariane stared him in the eye, before launching into what she had been about to say. "Look... you were there in Diagon Alley that day. I saw you. You saw me. You followed me into the cafe. That I can handle. But what you said..." Ariane shook her head and couldn't bear to look at him anymore. The pain of remembrance of how his words had struck so close to home thudded against her chest. "That was uncalled for." She finalised in a low, but pained tone.

((*pokes Jez* Basically, Tristan, apparently Ariane and Jez were meant to have a brief conversation before this post, so, that’s what I’m going to start soon. Once we’ve wrapped that up… hopefully quickly… Jez will post here next. After Jez, you, and then me, in that order. )

((*sigh* Talked to Jez; change of plans. PMing you on your main account now. )

[Tristan MacCay]

Tristan jumped, causing his book to fly from his hands. He reached up and caught it before it crashed to the floor, and sat up; looking at Ariane with a bewildered expression on his face. She had suddenly just yelled at something, and when she stood, he lowered his legs to the floor and followed her with his eyes to the compartment door. It must've slid open while he was lost in his thoughts. He shrugged slightly and went back to his book, starting on the sentence he had started on a few minutes ago. He didn't even have to try to read, though, because Ariane was talking again. He looked up over the edge of his book at her and then closed it, resting it over his thumb as he watched her speak. "I was," he confirmed with a nod when she said he was in Diagon Alley that day. She kept talking, and like before she didn't make any mention to what he had supposedly said. He knew that he hadn't said anything because they hadn't been close enough to talk to each other, but Ariane believed he had said something to her. His mind worked at a fast pace. If he hadn't said anything to her, and she believed he must have, then she couldn’t have seen him when he supposedly said these things. Tristan closed his eyes in thought a moment as he chewed on the inside of his cheek.

In his mind, the café formed around him. He was standing in the doorway and his eyes were searching for Ariane. He finally spotted her heading toward the restroom, and then Jez Cuthbert had…followed her. Yes, of course, because that was what gave Tristan his incentive to break up Olivia and Jez. He had thought Jez was pursuing Ariane and it had made him jealous. Jez must be the one who said all of the things that Ariane was accusing Tristan of saying. Tristan's eyes snapped open and he stared at Ariane. Did she really mistake that jerk for him? They were two completely different personalities. Two completely different people. It rather stung Tristan to think she had thought Jez Cuthbert, of all people, was him. "Ariane, you really have no idea what you are talking about. I didn't even follow you back to the restrooms. I entered the café, saw you heading back there, and was about to follow you when Jez Cuthbert stood from his table." Tristan swallowed a lump in his throat, his mind crafting a way around the part that he was jealous. How was he going to explain him sitting down to talk to Olivia without lying? Tristan didn’t want to lie to Ariane, but he didn’t think there was a way around it.

He took a deep breath in through his nostrils and let it out from his mouth, sitting on the edge of his seat, his hands clasped together and his arms resting on his knees; "Jez went in the same direction you did, and I took his seat at his table with his girlfriend Olivia. I engaged her in conversation, and after awhile, I left; returned home, and had a nice dinner with my parents and their friends. I was nowhere near talking vicinity of you, Ariane, and if I had been – nothing mean or nasty would have come from my mouth. If you hadn't noticed, you tend to break me down to the barest bone where I have to be kind to you – gentle – different. Being mean to you, I could not do. Being arrogant, I can't get rid of, but saying something that I know will purposely harm you? Give me more credit than that." His eyes held betrayal, though they probably shouldn't. Who was he to feel betrayed? It wasn't like he and Ariane were friends or anything more. They just talked a couple of times, and while they both made the other vulnerable – it wasn't something that should give either of them reason to feel betrayed. He had no doubt in his mind that was how Ariane was feeling, too, though. Neither of them would voice it.

"I'm a jerk, Ariane, I'm mean, cruel, and intolerable. But humiliating someone who's opened themselves up to me, let me into their thoughts, and told me things they probably wouldn't tell anyone else is not my style. I respect you, I respect who you are, and there is no reason for me to hurt you." For some reason, it would hurt me… he thought as he stared at her. Then as he let those words sink in for a moment, he sat back and opened his book again to the page he had been on previously. This time as he began to read, he could actually comprehend the words. He had said what he wanted to say, given his evidence, and now it was up to her to believe him. He wanted her to believe him. He needed her to believe him.

[Ariane Chan]

Ariane could have laughed when Tristan threw his book in his air from shock. Her irritation faded somewhat from the random and sudden intrusion, a small smile quirking at her lips. She found it funny. But no – Tristan could not make her laugh; he could not subside her angry emotions so easily. He was meant to make them worse. Their eyes made contact for a moment and Ariane let the smile fall off her face. Shutting the door again and sitting back down, she was left to ponder in silence again whilst Tristan ‘read’ his book. Something about the novel was starting to annoy Ariane though; the fact this… thing, this object (okay, so Ariane normally loved books, but she now had a certain vendetta against this one) was taking up more of Tristan’s time and attention than she was! He was meant to be grovelling to her right now, or at least, making some snide comment. Ariane would’ve preferred that than this… silence. She was normally so used to peace and quiet, but encased in it with Tristan just made her want to choke and suffocate. His presence demanded something of her, as though she could not simply remain silent and stony. So she talked, and when she did, she was inwardly pleased to see Tristan put his book down to focus on her. She knew he wasn’t reading in the first place, but the fact he was forfeiting her to pretend to pay attention to a book just irritated her. He couldn’t string her along and then ignore her with the pathetic excuse of a book! Ariane wouldn’t have it.

Ariane stared straight at Tristan when he confirmed his presence in Diagon Alley that day. Okay, he was truthful enough to admit that, though what good would denying it have been? Ariane had seen Tristan with her own eyes, blonde hair, blue eyes and all in the streets, and unless she had been hallucinating, which she of course had not been, there was no other explanation. However, as he went on to explain further the day’s events, Ariane felt her eyes narrow in suspicion and doubt. Jez Cuthbert? The troublesome, mischievous guy in her year and house? The very same Jez she had just encountered moments before? Ariane couldn’t resist a frown as pieces seemed to fall into place. She was confused more than ever, but that might have been her refusal to acknowledge the truth beginning to form. The light was clearing away the gaps of darkness that once made her ignorant and angry, and this understanding scared Ariane. Why? Because this meant she was wrong. Wrong about Tristan. A part of her was relieved, but at the same time, the guilt consumed her, her anger at herself rose. She looked at Tristan again and saw the truth and sincerity written across his face, and decided he was being honest. She had never seen Tristan as a liar – someone who manipulated people, enjoyed humiliating people, and would put on fronts to deceive you; but not a liar. She knew this because she knew she and Tristan had similar traits – and they were both honest people.

Ariane felt her blood rise somewhat at the mention of Olivia… Olivia… who was Olivia? Ariane didn’t know a Gryffindor girl in her year, and the year below, called Olivia. She didn’t care though – all that mattered to her was that Tristan had sat down and ‘engaged her in conversation’. She resisted a snide comment about the girl, pushing down emotions Ariane didn’t know she had in herself. What was this? Jealousy. A voice very akin to Aurora’s whispered in her mind. Ariane frowned even more, creases stretching from her temple to line her eyes. ”No. No.” She chanted firmly in her mind and pushed her conscience away. She continued to listen to Tristan’s story, not showing it outwardly but needing him to continue, needing him to be honest with her and tell her everything. She had to be sure of him. The turning point was when he said she broke him down to the barest bone, and something… something definitely broke inside of her. Her eyes snapped away from Tristan’s, staring at her feet, anywhere but at his face, where she knew she would expose all her emotions bare for him to see; where all her guilt would consume her and eat her alive. Ariane was wrong. She was wrong. She was wrong about Tristan, and now she felt… awful. She couldn’t imagine how he viewed her right now, she was that embarrassed and horrified.

Finally Tristan finished speaking, and Ariane lay silent and wallowing in her thoughts of self-hatred. She barely gave Jez Cuthbert a thought; all her attention was currently focused on Tristan. Finally, she looked up and into his eyes, and felt her resolve crumble. She had to get out of here. Fast. Say something and get out of here, run away in shame. Ariane had wronged Tristan, and she had to apologise. But how? Ariane didn’t say the word ‘sorry’. She just couldn’t. The word didn’t make its way to her lips, so she sat stoic until she managed something else coherent and audible. “You are a jerk. You are arrogant, mean, cruel, and intolerable. You are all that. But I also know that this isn’t all of you. It is not just these things that make up who you are. Because, I… I respect you too.” Ariane’s throat died on her that minute, and her mouth shut. Eyes dropping to Tristan’s book, she stared at it for a moment, before breathing in and speaking again. “Tristan…” She stood up suddenly, shaking a little, and began to pace the small space in silence, before she stopped before him and murmured, “Just, forget it. I was wrong.” Tears stung, but Ariane pushed them away. She remembered Tristan’s words – that he respected her – and felt like crying all over again. She wanted to be in his arms and be comforted and be assured, to be accepted and to feel… loved. Love, a topic they had discussed so many months ago. But Ariane didn’t dare voice her emotions, and as usual shoved them to one side. Instead, she bent down face to face with Tristan, her long hair falling across her cheek, brushing against his, that was how close she allowed her face to be – their noses were almost touching. She opened her mouth to say something, looked into his eyes almost longingly, before whispering, “Thank you.”

Ariane was out of the carriage before she could control her body. The door shut behind her and headed down the corridor towards the prefect carriage. Feelings for Tristan faded away as she displaced him from her mind, forgetting him for now as she let the stored anger return with a fury and passion unrivalled from before. Jez Cuthbert. That was where all her energy and retribution was aimed at. Not only had he humiliated her in the first way, but in the second way that she had thought he was Tristan, had hated Tristan, then embarrassed herself before Tristan. She had, in a way, betrayed Tristan, right? Ariane felt so stupid. Of course that hadn’t been Tristan! The voice, the words; they hadn’t seemed Tristan-like at all. And the Slytherin wouldn’t have been bold enough to follow her into the girls’ restroom. Only someone as pigheaded as Jez could do that. She growled in frustration; Jez’s words from before only now made sense to her. She would find the boy and unleash all her pent up anger from the summer onto him, if it was the last thing she did.