PREY | r.a.b.

petunia | 01

"MUST YOU CONTINUOUSLY SPREAD your own childish and pretentious idealism around the school as if it were something worthwhile?" Castor's naturally tanned face screwed up in anger as he loudly argued at the dim-witted Slytherin in front of him. Pairing the two for potions was not in Slughorn's best interest anymore. A heated debate sprung while they tried to brew a drought of peace due to an unnecessary comment from the youngest Black sibling.

Regulus sneered at the other, his handsome features turned sharp and red due to all of the screaming. "Oh, as if you're above me. You're nothing but a filthy half-breed with moronic ideals and an absurdly low amount of intelligence!" At the start of their rivalry, most other students were shocked at Regulus' argumentativeness. He was known to be passively cold and emotionless. Castor seemed the only one who could provoke large bouts of emotion from the aristocratic boy. Said young aristocrat wasn't very surprised when a fist quickly went flying and crashed into his smooth cheek. He was prepared for that; he swung as well, hitting his target with a sickening sound.

Before the fight could move any further, both students were held back by their teacher's magic. "That's quite enough!" Slughorn frowned at the two. They were the brightest students of their year but acted like toddlers. "That's detention for you both." Students rarely saw jubilant Horace Slughorn angry, so the potions professor pink-faced and pissed was startling. He seemed very tired of their constant fighting and interrupting of lessons.

"Yes, sir." Regulus replied immediately. He bowed his head slightly in embarrassment of acting immature as he sat down.

Castor huffed out a breath, muttering a "yes, sir" as well. He slumped down into his seat and used his forearm to prop his head up.

"Good," was the last word said by Slughorn before class continued.

-

A light breeze slid easily across his exposed skin, barely moving his unkempt hair. The air held a warm atmosphere with soft sunlight shining behind strong clouds. Castor watched as black-clothed figures cut through blue skies. Gold peeked under the dark fabrics, catching the light every so often. Hufflepuff has never been a strong competitor when it comes to quidditch. Their team rarely wins against Gryffindor or Slytherin, but it never diminished their hard work. Every loss further fueled their efforts.

Castor sat on the stands, surrounded by books and homework he needed to finish before detention. His attention altered between watching the players practice and writing. It wasn't unusual to receive punishment when it came to Regulus's and his ongoing feud. Their incendiary rivalry could hardly go unnoticed by their teacher's steadily growing frustration. Potions was usually never a problem, leaving him curious as to what Slughorn had planned.

A sound above pulled him from his thoughts. His friend, Jonathon, sat lazily on his broom, smirking when the curly-haired Hufflepuff looked up. "Potions, mate?" The blond greeted, amusement coloring his features. "You managed to get Slughorn pissed with your primary school bullshit. I could honestly commend you."

Castor stared unimpressed, as he usually does, at Jon. "Black was being a prick. Telling me I'm doing the bloody potion wrong." He argued, still bitter at the events of earlier that day. Regulus had the audacity to try to take charge as if he knew any better.

"You sound like a child. And your mum isn't gonna happy to hear you're acting like an arse again." Jon reprimanded. He was much more laid-back than the half-blood had ever been, not letting something trivial affect his carefree demeanor.

Rolling his eyes, Castor moved his finished essay next to him. "As if I don't know that already. Go back to practice, you idiot." He responded drily, catching the other boy's grin before looking down at the next assignment.

— • —

commitment & i divorced a long time ago.