entanglements | d.m.

04.alterations

September '98 | H E R

"You have started a revolution, Dev," Tarquin concludes.

Padma just got done telling how her sister won't take the name of her partner Theodore Nott, as of yet.

Quite a few couples demanded the change of names on the doors; Devyn saw it happen in real time whenever she walked past them the last few days. Because first off, the name changes haven't happened yet, meaning there are two legitimate students in the room. How come there is only one mentioned? Second, it's rude to assume the girls would take the boy's name, not the other way around.

Plain rude.

Sue, with her room way down the hall, has mentioned how her name has been hyphenated with Megan's. The same must go for the other same sex couple.

Rude!

Traditional, good ol' McGonagall saw reason quickly, thankfully.

"I would love to claim that I started it for the greater good," Devyn pulls her foot under her thigh, morosely looking around the half-filled classroom, "but it's just not the case."

"I love you for your humility," Tarq muses saracstically, his chin in the palm of his hand. He is sat on the table, his feet on the chair next to Devyn.

"Don't praise me or it'll go to my head," she replies with a little smile, her finger continuously twisting the ring on her right middle finger.

If it wasn't for the musty classroom this course has been chosen to take place in, maybe Devyn wouldn't feel as anxious. Because who wouldn't take it as a great metaphor to the suffocating future ahead of them.

"What about Parkinson?" Padma questions, her body turned as much as the backrest of her chair allows to talk to them, since she is sitting before Devyn. "Did she demand a change?"

"Not as far as I know," Tarq replies.

That has Devyn's head rearing back. "What do you mean?"

Parkinson hates Tarquin, according to the sneers and looks down her nose whenever she sees him, if the constant subtle insults aren't enough indicators. Plus, she would be repulsed—abhor the simple idea—to take a half-blood name, and that is not taken as a general assumption. Parkinson has voiced on more than one occasion how deeply she hated his name specifically.

Tarquin shrugs his shoulders, inspecting his own ring on his hand. They got matching ones some years back, silver with a small black onyx stone. "She says it's too much of a hassle."

"Too much of a hassle?" Devyn echoes incredulously, far more invested than her best friend is.

"That's what she said," Tarquin says, the corner of his mouth tugging up as soon as he does.

Devyn still can't get over it. Pansy Malone? Pansy? Malone? "Miss Hassle personified said it's too much."

"Something about it not making that much of a difference." He has a thick strand of hair between his fingers and holds before his eyes, examining the ends. "I didn't really listen because I wasn't really... there."

No question what he means by that.

"Malone," Malfoy's full, clear voice booms a few octaves deeper when addressing Devyn's other half. He comes sauntering over to their table, his friends gracing the class with their pressing existence. "Skedaddle. Right now."

Rolling his eyes, Tarquin gets out of his position and walks around Devyn to half lean, half sit on her side of the table. Padma turns herself as Malfoy approahes, cleaning the chair with a charm.