Poor Unfortunate Soul *Open*

[serafina]

"Son of a gurrier!" Fina cried out in frustration as one leg slipped from the rafter, tumbling forward. She caught the beam, hugging it tightly to ensure she didn't tumble any further down. She peered over the edge, wondering which would be worse: the pain of landing on the floor, or the stench of what was on it. She lifted one arm, reaching back behind her and into her boots to pull out her raining balloons.

Wheatley had inspired her to try some of her own creations that were a little more muggle than magical. It was great fun in the Slytherin common room, when most of the arrogant pure bloods couldn't tell a whistle from a watch. Carefully she swung down, knees hooked securely over the rafter as she began tying her creations. The shadows of the cavernous tower would conceal her secret. It was only a matter of waiting for someone to step in through that door before the rotten lake water showered the entire Owlery.

Fina had the privileged to experience the scent of wet owl...and it had not been pleasant. She was sure if stink bombs and pellets came in various scents, it would be one. Second most popular right by Hippogriff dung. She swung gently as she worked, shaking her head as the occasional owl would fly curiously by, bumping against her face.

"Perfect!" She beamed, proud of herself. With a quick swing she rolled back up onto the rafter, poising herself against the wall so her legs hung on either side, eye trained on the door meters below. Somewhere in the recesses of her mind, she reminded herself that she had a potions paper to write, but figured making some one miserable and slightly terrified would be a lot more fun. All she needed was for someone to trip that wire.

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[wheatley]

Needless to say, Wheatley had rather enjoyed watching Fina work. He had been in the Owlery, minding his own business, when Fina had stumbled up the stairs, giggling. If it had been anyone else, he would have stayed put, but this was Fina. She was the exotic beauty from the opposite end of the spectrum, yet she was extremely fascinating. The two weren't as different as he had originally thought. In the long run, Wheatley was actually scared of what they had become. He was a quirky teenage boy. What did he know about relationships?

Was that even what they were? Wheatley wasn't sure. He didn't know what to do about Fina. They'd kissed during the Battle in a moment of sheer passion, but it had left the pair speechless. Since then, neither seemed sure of where they stood. It was as if the kiss had never happened, that they were merely best friends and nothing more. For whatever reason, that thought wasn't sitting right with Wheatley. He wasn't content with Fina just being a friend, but he wasn't sure if she felt the same. He needed a sign.

So, Wheatley inexplicably watched Fina whenever he got the chance. It was strange, but this was the first time he'd actually done it without her knowledge. All of the other times they had been hanging out together. Wheatley watched with interest as Fina scrambled up to the ceiling, planting some elaborate trap for the next unsuspecting victim. He smiled, admiring her handiwork. It was a completely Muggle prank, nothing she could have done or would have done with magic. It was extremely interesting, knowing that Fina was currently dabbling in the non-magical side of things. Wheatley had always enjoyed mixing Muggle and magic, but he didn't realize that she'd taken an interest in it as well.

When she sat back in triumph, Wheatley stepped out from his hiding place at the back of the tower. "Pretty clever stuff, m'dear. Next time, however, you might want to make a sweep of the room," he called up teasingly, grinning.

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[serafina]

Fina almost glowed with pride in her capability to imitate the genius she had found in Wheatley. She had never taken too kindly to Ravenclaws, knowing it would only give satisfaction and triumph to her Ravenclaw elitist family. She had to go out of her way to make a point to have no contact with the brainiacs...unless it was for some midnight fun. In which case, she was sure each of her brothers caught her on her way out of their dorm. Like clockwork, she found herself receiving a howler exactly one week later, designating her triumph in shaming her family. Fina didn't do relationships.

....Or so she thought.

She wasn't sure what had drawn her to Wheatley...or even more puzzling still, why he had been drawn to her. She had just finished selling her body for an essay in the boy's bathroom when he saw her. Boys didn't talk to her...or most didn't. She was either the object of their midnight fantasies or the brunt of the slut jokes, but Fina couldn't complain. She had known what would come with the games she played. Boys loved a girl with air in her head and a talent in bed. But Wheatley was different. Wheatley listened to things she had to say....saw the thought in her pranks. He was the only one that knew of her pranks besides Cossette.

And they had kissed. That one was strange. Fina had kissed many people before, but that one hadn't been one of horny frenzy or angry revenge. He'd wanted to kiss her...And she'd kissed him. Fina's heart fluttered at the memory, although she kept it buried deep down. She was sure he'd regret kissing what so many had already had.

The pride was short lived as she heard a chuckle. She spun down to get a better view of the voice she had already recognized in a heartbeat. She hung by her knees, grinning down at him. "Looks like your stuck in here with me now," she grinned victoriously, looking back at the trap. She hadn't thought about how she wouldn't be able to step out either...She grabbed the rafter before letting her legs drop, landing on the straw covered floor. Straightening up she brushed at her jeans, although they were ripped, paint-splattered and past all hope of reserection. They were her pranking jeans. "So in the end, m'dear," she paused, imitating his accent as she pinched his cheek teasingly. "You were indeed also pranked. You do get the worse end of it," she bounced to the window, tossing herself down the sill and throwing one leg over the other as she grinned at him playfully. It was almost freeing how much of herself she could be with Wheatley. She wasn't going to let whatever weird twinges she got inside take him away from her. She'd do anything to get to talk to Wheatley...even if it meant pretending she didn't feel like she would faint everytime he looked at her. "A great deal of students here would have taken the smell of a wet owl over being locked in a room with me" she said, and part of her knew it was true.

[wheatley]

Wheatley grinned as she swung around, hanging by her knees. God, she was gorgeous, even while upside down. He couldn't help himself. He was captivated by this girl, the last person on Earth he had ever imagined himself with. He watched her carefully, grinning. He wasn't even paying attention to what she was saying. All he could see were those perfect, lovely lips moving. Wheatley wanted to kiss Fina again, and he was having a difficult time controlling his testosterone. As Fina swung down to meet him, he watched her carefully. When she stepped up, pinching his cheek and mimicking him, he couldn't help but grin.

So, in the end, m'dear, you were indeed also pranked. You do get the worse end of it."

Wheatley shrugged, peering past his glasses at her, hoping to catch those stunning blue eyes watching him. "Oh well," he replied, grinning widely. He watched her waltz over, sitting down and crossing one leg over the other. Though they were covered by her tattered, yet mesmerizing jeans, he could picture her soft, smooth skin, could just feel his fingertips brushing over it as his hand danced up her thigh and...

"A great deal of students here would have taken the smell of a wet owl over being locked in a room with me."

Wheatley swallowed in discomfort, shaking his head to rid himself of his horny, adolescent thoughts. This was not the time, nor did he think it was the place. He didn't even know how Fina felt. His fantasies would stay just that: fantasies. He sat down next to her, smiling softly and looking her in the eye. "I'm not a part of that 'great deal,'" he replied quietly. He could feel the electricity in the air, but he didn't say anything. He didn't have to.

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[serafina]

Fina nearly lost her balance as her eyes locked with Wheatley’s, distracted in her gymnastic endeavors. Years of being the only girl among six other boys had been pretty useful when it came to rough housing. Even more useful was an army-obsessed father who had trained them as if their country was under siege. What she hadn’t been prepared for, though, was those brilliant eyes, gleaming behind the lenses as the light shone perfectly through the low set owlery windows. Somehow she made it to the ground in what she felt was still gracefully filled with all of her womanly charms.

Fina tilted her head as she surveyed Wheatley. He grinned, but something in his eyes seemed…distant. She wondered what could consume his brilliant mind. She needed to know. He sat beside her and she lifted an eyebrow. It was awfully tempting to simply jump on him here and now. He was different though. He deserved better treatment than those who earned her her passing grades in potions and bought her candy at Hogsmeade. Still, she slid closer, resting her head on his shoulder, side pressed against his. Unlike with other contact though, her skin tingled at the contact.


I’m not a part of that ‘great deal’

She felt her heart slam against her rib cage as she said those words. She lifted her head, staring at him, a smile threatening to split her face in two. She felt her eyes sting, as if tears were going to spill over, although they remained dry. She wasn’t used to someone knowing her…and still liking her. She preferred knowing that when someone hated her, it was because of the face she chose to give to them, rather than who she was. She moved her mouth, as if to say thanks, but no sound came out. Clearing her throat, she gave him a timid smile, surprising in her extravagant and arrogant behavior. ”Thanks,” she tucked a russet curl behind her ear. ”That means a lot, Wheatley,” she took a deep breath, thumbs brushing against each other.

You never told me how your holidays were,” she leaned up against the side of the window, tossing one leg out the window, allowing it to dangle stories over the snowy ground below. The other foot dragged along the straw-covered stone floor, eyes watching Wheatley, that smile she could not resist dancing on her lips. ”Any gorgeous young girlies I should be concerned about?” She teased, although the truth was still tangible in her stomach.

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