"You're done. Go back to your dorms and clean up. And no more Whiz Crackers in the Hallways, or next I will not offer you the ear muffs." Two, shaggy-haired young wizards shuffled out of the Herbolog greenhouse, clothes soiled with the dirt and sweat of planting mandrakes for several hours. The foolish boys had earned themselves detention for breaking the rules and delivering to themselves a week of punishment for repeatedly skipping class and setting off annoying firecrackers throughout the halls.
All supplied by one red-headed teenager, no doubt. James honestly had no idea what to do with Jack Dylan. The Seventh-year was clearly at the end of her rope, being the Champion of Hogwarts, and a prominent member of the PA. With her notoriety within the group, and her liberal usage of the Room of Requirement, Jack was probably their leader. But James had no reason to give her detention- not without a solid case to prove.
In that sense, being the Imperium Squad, effectively acting as a Prefect of the school, James felt limited.
Still, he did not abhor Jack's existence. Rather, he had grown accustomed to her childish mannerisms in the attempt to assimilate with the Student Population of Hogwarts. A group that he, under normal circumstances, would have been content with ignoring. But he needed to be in the loop, and found being helpful, if only for study, a rather pleasing activity.
But this was not to say that he would proffer his assistance to anyone in particular. He was not one for social interaction, though he actively studied it throughout his interactions with his fellow students. He was the silent brooding type, the kind of boy who was content with ignoring those around as they would of him. Being in the same room as Jack Dylan, however, did not offer such a luxury.
And then... he found Jack. Crying, of all the selfish things. For what reason did she cry? Had socializing with everyone, creating such an impression that she was dependable, strong and courageous, that it was all crashing down upon her. It fascinated James, but it irked at the same time. If anyone needed their crying time...
Then again, Jack always put on a brave face. The possibility persisted that she was only holding onto a hollow facade to ease the passing of her days, just as James once did.
Except that James gave that up once puberty began to kick in, and his first "crush," if such a term was applicable to the Beauxbatons girl he had met one fine summer, quickly turned him down. At that point, Alan stepped in and quickly took the boy back to "their" apartment and began James' regiment of training. James would later find himself too bashful to mention the whole "crush" thing until she left.
Mostly, James was glad to be rid of her. Now that two years had passed, he had learned to seal that friendship away. He had changed, naturally- perhaps Jack Dylan needed to too. Well, not like James, of course. Too drastic. But she needed to be more... selfish?
As James considered the possibilities, he saw the girl in question lounging about on the field, lying beneath the shade of a tree. James stepped up to her prostate form and asked,
"Everything well enough for you, Ms. Dyllan?" leaning over her head so she could clearly see who he was.