Post by Oscar Flynn G7 on Oct 24, 2008 14:13:20 GMT
It was rare to find Oscar disliked for his muggle upbringing. He was so naturally likable and altogether such a nice person to everyone it was rare to find him disliked for anything. And yet sat now on a bench in the courtyard, it was clear that someone disliked him quite a fair bit. Oscar wasn’t really that bothered. He knew that the Slytherin was not fond of him and was fine with it. It merely meant that he avoided talking to him and wouldn’t ask to borrow his ink or parchment in lessons. Apart from little things like that, Oscar was not concerned in the slightest by the boy. Whether or not some silly sixth year thought that Oscar shouldn’t be allowed in the school because he was brought up by muggles, however, did. He just did not understand this attitude to muggle-born wizards. Oscar was a good wizard; not great in most subjects, but good. He was brilliant in Transfiguration. He played Quidditch very well. He even had an owl for God’s sake- something which he had seen as a definite sign of being a wizard when he was an ickle firstie. So the fact that this boy and his silly cronies were now sitting a little way off on a bench of their own and staring at Oscar with obvious hate in their eyes did not bring a reaction from Oscar. However when the Slytherin rose from his bench and approached Oscar with one of his ‘friends’ trotting at his heels, Oscar’s body tensed slightly. He didn’t pause the movement of his hand as it danced across his page, quill scrawling out his Transfiguration homework with ease, but he did tense. And apparently that was enough.
“What’s the matter, Flynnie? Getting a bit scared because you’ve come across some real wizards and realised that you’re a fake? Wanna go home to your mummy? Well you bloody should go home, because this certainly isn’t it. You’re not welcome here.” The Slytherin boy had advanced forwards as he continued, his crony still at his heels all the way. When he was just a few feet behind Oscar – who still had his back to the guy and had stopped writing – he paused. The boy at his side, a fifth year Ravenclaw kid that Oscar knew had once been quite nice, stood on tip toes and grasped the Slytherin’s sleeve as he whispered something in his ear. For a moment the Slytherin allowed this violation of his personal space as he listened to the kid’s words. Then his face screwed up in disgust and he pushed the Ravenclaw away violently. With bright eyes he turned once more to the Gryffindor before him. Apparently he wasn’t finished.
“What’s this, Flynnie? I hear you’ve been spending time with queers. That’s sick, you’re more of a freak than I thought. That Ravenclaw idiot that likes men… if I were you I wouldn’t mix with people like that. He might try it on or something. It’s unnatural, an-”
Oscar decided that was more than enough. At mention of his muggle blood his anger had started to boil, his eyes narrow, and his mouth forming an irritated grimace. But to go as far as mention something completely irrelevant to the topic of his blood and mention Theo? Oh no. He was not going to get away with that. For a moment, Oscar thought about what his father would do here. That was after all what he should do in turn, was it not? That was what his mother used to tell him. Oscar’s father was a school teacher. He was a great man, extremely wise and understanding. Oscar could tell him pretty much anything and always get a helpful answer. But he was not a fighter in the sense of an argument. He backed down a lot. The only times Oscar had know him to lose his temper, Isaac Flynn would react by walking away. Yeah, that old thing. Giving in. Being the ‘better man’. But that was just so hard for Oscar to do. First, he was not a small boy in the sense of muscles and physical strength. He knew that he could easily make the Slytherin regret his words. Secondly, the boy was just so, so wrong. So pathetic, so ridiculously out of place, and so wrong. Oscar couldn’t just ‘walk away’ and let the words slide could he?
But… what would Theo have wanted him to do? That was a different matter altogether. With a scowl, Oscar had risen from the bench at the mention of spending time with Theo. He had slowly put his parchment, quill, wand and ink away. Then he had turned; and seized the Slytherin shoulder. The movement had not been so aggressive as to harm the boy but it was fast and unexpected, shocking the Slytherin into silence. “You know what? People like you are f**k**g sick. It’s not being gay or muggle-born that’s sick to you. It’s the fact that people are different. People aren’t like you, don’t follow your rules, and don’t kiss your arse like this kid.” A lazy hand indicated the fifth year Ravenclaw boy, and Oscar’s voice drawled out his words casually. His eyes were still angry, still narrowed, and his hand was still gripping the Slytherin’s shoulder. “Maybe you should pay a little trip to your mummy and she can teach you how to grow up and accept change. Otherwise you might find yourself without two or three kids trotting at your heels all day to make yourself look big. Because you aren’t big at all, and even a muggle-born like myself can see that. So do us all a favour and grow up now, accept the facts of life.”
With that, Oscar pushed back on the shoulder bone beneath his fingertips. Again, not aggressively, but enough to make the boy stumble back a little and allow Oscar space to move away. No doubt his words would have meant nothing to the Slytherin. No doubt he would be back sometime, if not to try and irritate Oscar then some other kid. But whatever; Oscar had not punched him, he had barely touched him, and his words had almost been advice instead of insults. He was proud of that at least, and as he turned the corner following the path to a smaller, sectioned area of the courtyard, he smiled softly to himself. He would never walk away.
Choosing a place to continue his Transfiguration homework proved a little harder in this area, as there were just two wooden tables and both had occupants. The first held three second years, and the second just one girl. Heading for the latter, Oscar approached with the smile still playing across his lips. “Hey, mind if I sit here?” He asked gently. His eyes flicked to what the girl was working on and turned from curious to approving swiftly. “That’s brilliant.” Oscar turned to glance behind him, seeing the real-life version of what was sketched on the girl’s parchment. It looked just like the sketch; this girl had talent. “Oscar Flynn, nice to meet you. You’re… Walsh, right?” His mind failed to come up with a first name as he gently sat opposite the Ravenclaw. His mind was still half with the disagreement with the idiotic Slytherin. No doubt the girl would have heard the argument; the clearing was still in sight of the main courtyard and the two certainly had not been quiet.
“What’s the matter, Flynnie? Getting a bit scared because you’ve come across some real wizards and realised that you’re a fake? Wanna go home to your mummy? Well you bloody should go home, because this certainly isn’t it. You’re not welcome here.” The Slytherin boy had advanced forwards as he continued, his crony still at his heels all the way. When he was just a few feet behind Oscar – who still had his back to the guy and had stopped writing – he paused. The boy at his side, a fifth year Ravenclaw kid that Oscar knew had once been quite nice, stood on tip toes and grasped the Slytherin’s sleeve as he whispered something in his ear. For a moment the Slytherin allowed this violation of his personal space as he listened to the kid’s words. Then his face screwed up in disgust and he pushed the Ravenclaw away violently. With bright eyes he turned once more to the Gryffindor before him. Apparently he wasn’t finished.
“What’s this, Flynnie? I hear you’ve been spending time with queers. That’s sick, you’re more of a freak than I thought. That Ravenclaw idiot that likes men… if I were you I wouldn’t mix with people like that. He might try it on or something. It’s unnatural, an-”
Oscar decided that was more than enough. At mention of his muggle blood his anger had started to boil, his eyes narrow, and his mouth forming an irritated grimace. But to go as far as mention something completely irrelevant to the topic of his blood and mention Theo? Oh no. He was not going to get away with that. For a moment, Oscar thought about what his father would do here. That was after all what he should do in turn, was it not? That was what his mother used to tell him. Oscar’s father was a school teacher. He was a great man, extremely wise and understanding. Oscar could tell him pretty much anything and always get a helpful answer. But he was not a fighter in the sense of an argument. He backed down a lot. The only times Oscar had know him to lose his temper, Isaac Flynn would react by walking away. Yeah, that old thing. Giving in. Being the ‘better man’. But that was just so hard for Oscar to do. First, he was not a small boy in the sense of muscles and physical strength. He knew that he could easily make the Slytherin regret his words. Secondly, the boy was just so, so wrong. So pathetic, so ridiculously out of place, and so wrong. Oscar couldn’t just ‘walk away’ and let the words slide could he?
But… what would Theo have wanted him to do? That was a different matter altogether. With a scowl, Oscar had risen from the bench at the mention of spending time with Theo. He had slowly put his parchment, quill, wand and ink away. Then he had turned; and seized the Slytherin shoulder. The movement had not been so aggressive as to harm the boy but it was fast and unexpected, shocking the Slytherin into silence. “You know what? People like you are f**k**g sick. It’s not being gay or muggle-born that’s sick to you. It’s the fact that people are different. People aren’t like you, don’t follow your rules, and don’t kiss your arse like this kid.” A lazy hand indicated the fifth year Ravenclaw boy, and Oscar’s voice drawled out his words casually. His eyes were still angry, still narrowed, and his hand was still gripping the Slytherin’s shoulder. “Maybe you should pay a little trip to your mummy and she can teach you how to grow up and accept change. Otherwise you might find yourself without two or three kids trotting at your heels all day to make yourself look big. Because you aren’t big at all, and even a muggle-born like myself can see that. So do us all a favour and grow up now, accept the facts of life.”
With that, Oscar pushed back on the shoulder bone beneath his fingertips. Again, not aggressively, but enough to make the boy stumble back a little and allow Oscar space to move away. No doubt his words would have meant nothing to the Slytherin. No doubt he would be back sometime, if not to try and irritate Oscar then some other kid. But whatever; Oscar had not punched him, he had barely touched him, and his words had almost been advice instead of insults. He was proud of that at least, and as he turned the corner following the path to a smaller, sectioned area of the courtyard, he smiled softly to himself. He would never walk away.
Choosing a place to continue his Transfiguration homework proved a little harder in this area, as there were just two wooden tables and both had occupants. The first held three second years, and the second just one girl. Heading for the latter, Oscar approached with the smile still playing across his lips. “Hey, mind if I sit here?” He asked gently. His eyes flicked to what the girl was working on and turned from curious to approving swiftly. “That’s brilliant.” Oscar turned to glance behind him, seeing the real-life version of what was sketched on the girl’s parchment. It looked just like the sketch; this girl had talent. “Oscar Flynn, nice to meet you. You’re… Walsh, right?” His mind failed to come up with a first name as he gently sat opposite the Ravenclaw. His mind was still half with the disagreement with the idiotic Slytherin. No doubt the girl would have heard the argument; the clearing was still in sight of the main courtyard and the two certainly had not been quiet.
