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Damien turned and offered Dominic a tired smile, one that only barely felt forced. It was nice to know his friend was still speaking to him, although he didn't sound too happy. He tilted his head down, and shook it slightly. "I, ah, I can't talk about it now... But later, alright? When we're in the dorm, maybe? Privately?" The proud Slytherin would finally have to divulge everything that had happened last term, and was finally well enough to do so. He wasn't too keen on admitting to what a source of shame his parents regarded him as, but still, Dom deserved to know why he hadn't written him back... Actually, Damien hadn't even gotten his letters. The boy's hands balled into a fist, and he fought to keep his expression neutral. His bloody parents... they'd kept him isolated all bloody summer! He bit back a growl and took a couple breaths... he was calming himself down when he heard shouting, and looked up abruptly. His eyes widened as he realized that Adalaide had received... a Howler? From her mother? That was... odd. His eyes sparked with the lightest bit of amusement, but he was rather confused. Her mother was the muggle in her family, she couldn't create a Howler... and in any case, he seemed to recall that she was something of a proper woman, not one to cause scenes. That might have changed, but... it was still rather strange. And he couldn't believe that her mother was yelling at her about Michelle. A lowly Hufflepuff, and a halfblood at that, should be proud to be friends with someone from his noble house, and of noble blood! By all accounts, Michelle being friends with the girl was practically an act of charity! So who did this woman think she was, yelling about a Slytherin being a bad influence? The idea was ridiculous. His eyes narrowed. Something about this... wasn't quite right.

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𝔜𝔬𝔲 tʀɩɛ∂ tσ ʟσϲк мɛ 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫.
xxxxI ╒συη∂ tɦɛ kɛʏ. 𝔏𝔦𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔢.
Just untie 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰// that break & 𝔟𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔢.

Dominic could never resist these urges; the ones that painted emotions on his features like an artist would a blank canvas, artfully crafted with muddled lines of wrinkles and curious colors of expressions and wry narrowing eyes as he studied his friend, one of the only he would ever consider a true friend. Truth be told, Dominic had gotten perturbed… paranoid… weeks later it manifested with wrath until his mother had finally sat him down, and explained that it would be in his best interest to let his friend rest at home, as his parents would have wanted.

Dom had insisted that his mother visit the Edgeworth estate, slither her way in, just to see if Damien was even still alive—after all, that last week of school, he couldn’t have been so sure. His ramblings, his short term memory loss, and then that, wretch glazed look that fogged over his eyes each time he went silent, as if his mind was crashing against the porcelain veneer of his corneas, trying to break through, but never could.

He doubted this his mother had ever taken the time to try, what he didn’t know, was that Mrs. Montague had been politely excused from the Edgeworth manor, and kindly asked to not return, at least, not without warning, or an appointment. It was because of that reason alone, that his mother had dropped everything, quit St. Mungo’s and took the first position she could find as an assistant healer in the infirmary. ”I tried to get my mum to stop by, to see if your parents would allow you a weekend at my fathers estate…

“She probably forgot too..” He shrugged, his mother had cared for him dearly, he knew, but she was much more concerned in the affairs of his future than his present. Choosing entirely to focus on what his electives would be for his third year, for what sorts of dynamic brooms would be best for his quidditch games, for what history books and charms books would better benefit him in his weakest classes…

”He—“ Dominic was cut off, by a shrill shriek hiss and cry erupting down further along the Hufflepuff table. He blinked, the voice familiar to only him and one other in the entire school. He refrained every urge to glance to his cousin, and instead, trained himself upon Damien. Studying him, all summer long, he had wanted to revel with his friend in his plans for breaking up the two dynamic duo whom obviously had nothing better to do than to pester the poor boy. He wasn’t blind as he was stupid, he saw the looks, he heard the snickers, the underlying breath under their voices.

What he didn’t know, however, was how Damien would react to such childish play. ”Jeez—what do you think tha’ was all about?” He gestured with the slight nod of his head towards Adalaide and her friends.

𝔜𝔬𝔲 tʀɩɛ∂ tσ ʟσϲк мɛ 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫.
xxxxI ╒συη∂ tɦɛ kɛʏ. 𝔏𝔦𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔢.
Just untie 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰// that break & 𝔟𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔢.

𝔜𝔬𝔲 tʀɩɛ∂ tσ ʟσϲк мɛ 𝔡𝔬𝔴𝔫.
xxxxI ╒συη∂ tɦɛ kɛʏ. 𝔏𝔦𝔟𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔱𝔢 𝔪𝔢.
Just untie 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔦𝔫𝔰// that break & 𝔟𝔦𝔫𝔡 𝔪𝔢.

Damien listened intently to what his friend had to say, frowning at Dom's mention of his mother stopping by to check on him. His fist clenched. Dominic's mother in all likelihood had come to the Manor, only to be turned away when she mentioned Damien's name. His mother would never have allowed him to spend time away, and certainly wouldn't have told Ms. Montague what was going on with her son. The whole point of isolating him was to keep others from knowing what a wreck and embarrassment he was. Damien barely bit back a growl, and looked at Dominic. "I wouldn't be so sure of that," he said simply, intending to extrapolate later. It seemed he and Dominic had much to discuss.

When Dominic's eyes lit, ever so slightly, at the Howler, Damien's eyebrow arched questioningly. He might have missed it, but for Dominic very clearly trying very hard not to look away from him, perhaps to avoid looking at Adalaide. When Dominic asked what he thought of it, the arch went higher. Damien might have been out of it for a while, but he wasn't completely oblivious. But, since Dominic didn't admit to any guilt or take any credit, and managed to contain any pride, Damien decided to play along, for now. He'd have to ask him about it when they spoke later. "All I know is that there is no bloody way the thing is for real. Blythe's mother is a muggle, she couldn't have sent the bloody thing, even if she'd wanted to. And her father thinks she's a perfect angel, he bloodied my father's nose over her when we were kids. He'd never help her mother do it. So someone," he tilted his head down, giving Dom an intense look, "must've faked it somehow." He glanced along the table, to Michelle. She hadn't reacted much; that was curious. Was she containing her anger, her embarrassment? Or did she, too, know it was a fake? He supposed it was possible; his cousin had to know about the girl's mother. Then he noticed Marina, and her cold expression. She probably thought he was behind this, no doubt. So ungrateful. He'd bloody saved the girl's life after all. And she of all people should know he had more class than that. He might find the prank amusing, but he'd have never done it himself, or been involved. He was above such childishness. Though that didn't mean he was above enjoying the immature actions of his friend. In truth, he found it bloody funny.

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How did we get here? When I used to know you so well?


Of all the immature, idiotic, downright stupid..... Marina could have gone on. That loathsome little prat thought he was hilarious. Acting so innocent. And Damien! He looked amused. And she'd thought he changed. Well, old habits die hard, apparently... Lovely, now she wanted to throttle two people. She could hear their conversation perfectly well, it was amazing what years of practice could do to one's hearing ability... So, things were starting to slip out. She had suspected for a while now that Damien and Ada had known each other before Hogwarts, but now it was confirmed. So Ada's dad had punched Damien's.... That was pretty wicked, it must be father like son since half of the time she wanted to punch Damien. The other half of the time she felt guilty, and she was bloody sick of it. Maybe he would say something nasty eventually, and they could go back to silently despising each other. She could also then hex him with no trace of guilt. Think happy thoughts, she thought. Picture beating Dominic to a bloody pulp.... Yes, happy thoughts...