"Come on, Helly, don't be like this."
Helen Hullenport looked sharply to her companion. They were currently walking down a long staircase from the Gryffindor Common Room, where she had acquired the world's biggest prat. He balked a little under her gaze and for a moment there was blissfull silence. Helen enjoyed the reprieve. She doubted it would last.
"Helen, I've told you I'm sorry a thousand times," Graham interrupted her thoughts as they reached the bottom of the stairs, looking annoyingly sincere. Helen tried to set him on fire with her mind. Annoyingly, it didn't work. He was spinning pretty apologises at her, promising to never again teach baby mandrakes to revolt and wage war with Professor Sprout, no seriously. Helen did her best to ignore him. He was lucky she hadn't fed him to the Man-Eating Pineapple in Greenhouse Six. He was lucky she didn't transfigure him into a sock. He was lucky she hadn't yet mastered silent spells. How she longed to burn his hair off.
"Stop ignoring me, Helly!" He whined, grabbing her arm. Helen drew herself to her full height and jabbed him square in the center of the chest.
"No! You caused thousands of galleons in damage to the Greenhouse. The only reason you haven't been expelled
is because I covered more than I should have for you. I was removed as a Prefect! We are not
talking until I don't want to kill you everytime you open your mouth! Are we perfectly clear?"
Graham had the look of a man who realised the witch he was accompanying was severely deranged. Helen scowled at him, scrunching her button nose. He released her arm, held his hands up in the universal sign for surrender. Helen's temper faded a bit. At least he wasn't being extra pratty about it.
"...but it was really funny--"
"I AM GOING TO KILL YOU, GRAHAM GODFREY, IF YOU SAY ANOTHER WORD."
That did the trick.
Their argument made them almost ten minutes late. Helen almost didn't care; she and Graham were stuck doing Saturday detentions for the rest of the year. He was lucky he hadn't been kicked off the Quidditch team. She privately mourned the loss of her little golden badge. The mourning was cut short as she spied the only person in the world she even remotely wanted to interact with at the moment.
"Rosie!" Helen perked, significantly cheered by the sight of her best friend. She abandoned Graham without a second thought, rushing across the room to ensnare the Ravenclaw in a girlish hug. Her brown eyes lit up, her lips quirked into a wide grin. Filch was clearing his throat, but Helen ignored him. Graham could deal with Filch, she didn't care right now.
Releasing her friend, she grabbed her arm, dropped her head to the other girl's shoulder. Helen had always been a touchie-feelie friend, but something about Rosalyn just seemed... warm? Familiar? She never could describe it. No matter how awful things got, Helen knew she could find the dark haired witch and her presence alone seemed to make things better. Even now, being fired as Prefect didn't seem so bad. She didn't even want to kill Graham as much anymore. Helen thought this is what having a sister must feel like. It was nice.
"Thought you could just wander in whenever you fancied?" Filch snarled. Helen looked to him finally, frowning. Graham offered an over-exaggerated shrug, surpreme in its arrogance. She still wanted to hex him, but murdering him did seem a bit excessive at the moment. If he was alive, he could take all of the abuse from Filch and the token Slytherin over there! (Selwyn? Steven? Sally? Sally!) Helen thought this was a grand idea.
"Sounds about right," Graham agreed, an infuriatingly smug grin on his face. Okay, so she still sort of wanted to kill him. Breathe, Helen. "What do you have in store for us today, old chap?"
Filch didn't seem pleased by being called 'Old Chap', but the detention at hand made his lips curl. Mrs. Norris purred from about his feet. Creepy. He gestured widely to the enormous room. A thousand years of trophies and medals and awards filled glass cabinets two stories high. Helen wondered why she'd never come to this room before. It was magnificent.
"You lot will spend three hours every Saturday cleaning this. Without magic, and it will get done this year. You'll come in as often as you have to to get it done."
Helen suddenly didn't appreciate the room quite as much. She opened her mouth to protest, raising her head from Rosalyn's shoulder, looking extremely put out.
"Without magic-- are you mad
Filch shot her a look that made her hold her tongue. Helen flushed a little, but, honestly... this would take weeks, even with magic... without... she shot Graham a look that told him, in no uncertain terms, I am going to kill you
Graham slowly took a step back from Helen. Filch arched a brow.
"Get to it! Mrs. Norris, keep watch."
The cat meowed, pleased at their communal suffering, as Filch hobbled off, undoubtedly to do battle with Peeves elsewhere in the castle.
"Well, this isn't too bad," Graham said brightly. Helen nearly drew her wand and did the deed then and there. No, she couldn't give him the satisfaction. She 'hmph'ed in a disapproving sort of way at Graham, and turned to speak to Rosalyn,
"How did you end up here, anyways? Did Graham ruin your life forever too?"