Rules Ruin Fun

Jack was not an ice skater. Skating required grace. Now, give her a broomstick, and one might call her graceful. She could manuever a broom better than most people could manuever their feet, and the strength and agility she applied to her Beating made her seem like she could do anything. But strap skates to her, and tailbone was already bruised.

But she did like the calming motion of the skating figures, and for awhile, she was caught in a trance, leaning against the railing, eyes wandering, cold air biting her pale cheeks. Bodies pressed on either side of her and she was stirred from her trance, and she realized how painfully normal this activity was. Oh goodnes, she was... growing up.

She quickly turned away and hurried for a small bank of fresh snow, and yanked off her gloves. She scooped a handful into one of her hands and began patting it and forming it. She turned back and stood next to a thin tree, her eyes looking around at the crowd. With no dumb Hogwarts kids running around though, she knew that this prank would not be satisfying in the least. She sighed. It was getting harder and harder to have fun.

Whight had never thought it appealing to lace blades upon his feet and basically try not to fall on ice. Though he saw the beauty in it, he preferred to observe rather than participate. He sat on a bench, his right leg squared atop his left, not too far from the ice making his observations and inking said observations into his journal. He scanned those that slid about the ice seeing lovers holding hands, others practicing tricks while parents held their children's hands in assistance to keep their child upright. He sighed at the sight, dismissed his memories by turning down to his journal to scribble a note.

Upon returning to his gaze towards the crowd he noticed a red headed girl brace the wall for support before the inevitable fall took place. He knew not if this was her first attempt at skating or if she was just awful at the sport. In any case, she looked as uncomfortable as he would feel if he were out on the ice; he laughed to himself silently at the small connection.

Whight continued to watch the girl. She seemed bored as she approached a nearby bank only to begin shaping a snowball. Further intrigued, he watched for the possible deviant act to take place. She scanned the crowd and remained still while looking somewhat more disappointed as if her target would never arrive. It wasn't in Whight to approach those he didn't know, he liked keeping to himself, but the slight hope that she would catch him staring at her raced through his mind; then he thought better of it.

He closed his journal and began to glove his hands. He readjusted his coat as he stood to begin making his way home. The cold twenty minute walk alone was not going to be the highlight of his day...

Jack missed the days when Wheezes was busy. Hell, she was paid to make trouble and prank innocent bystanders- then again, she was the one who decided her salary. But her pranking demonstrations were always a good way to advertise and always were worth the risk. That was really how she made her money to be honest.

But times were slow in the pranking business. Until the Hogwarts students had a free weekend she was stuck having her fun elsewhere. She sighed and suddenly felt the hairs on the back of her neck raise. She was being watched. She knew the sensation- people stared at Hogwarts when she was a marked girl, and after her time in Azkaban, everyone at work stared.

She turned and raised an eyebrow, making eye contact with the man staring at her. "Unless you have someone that you want to settle a petty score with, you really have no use trying to associate with me."

Durmstrang had given Whight the opportunity to teach himself how to go about his day unnoticed; this was how he liked and preferred it. His first year wasn't quite so easy considering the students in their final years of school made it a point to give the new comers a hard time. Whight hated this, attention was the last thing he wanted, especially after what had just taken place in his life. He let the elder students have their fun for a while and then he decided he could simply resolve the problem with his gift.

Whight now walked the halls with new faces daily. Some were of current older students, others of students who had already graduate that he had seen in pictures or just older looking images of random students; but with a small amount of facial hair and a touch power in his step he was left alone. Doing this helped him prefect his gift but he was careful not to forget who he truly was.

This was the memory that struck through Whight as this girl began to make a scene. He stood momentarily frozen in confusion. Only his eyes moved to look about the ice rink to spot his spectators. When he knew several where now looking at him waiting for him to make the next move, he grew aggravated. He made it his goal to draw as little attention to himself as possible and here this girl was yelling at him across the area. He clearly misjudged how potentially obnoxious the individual could be.

He met eyes with her once more displaying confusion, and then he lightened his facial expression. "Excuse me if I have upset you," he said, "I had no intentions of associating with you and after the scene you have just made, I'm quite glad that my intentions were as they were. If this is how you speak to everyone it's a wonder your face doesn't consist of even more scars." Annoyed, he left the side of the bench toward the closest crowd to disappear within their dwellings.

As he spoke, Jack felt the devious side begin to come out. She had aggravated him already, and she had not even thrown her first snowball. She tossed the snowball behind her and it landed on the rink. She heard some man curse as he tried to get out of the patch of snow's path but she was already moving towards the man she had so easily offended.

At the man's last word though, she froze. Her hand instictively wanted to fly up and touch the scars on the side of her head where she had been attacked by Nerezza and where Vito had left their mark. She new they extended out towards her eye, but she had no idea that they were so visible. Did he really think annoying someone had earned her those? Did he really think that her life was that petty?

And was that a threat?

All she knew was he was disappearing and she would not stand for that. She threw down her gloves, too angry to think practically and stormed after him. He began to disappear within the crowd, so she swung in an arc around some others before wheeling herself in front of him, putting a finger to his chest. "Look, pal, I was making a joke. I did nothing to you, so what the hell is your problem with me?"

To Whight, this girl was now beginning to be more than ridiculous. He stopped in the middle of the crowd while she pressed her finger upon his chest. Having attention forced upon him was one thing, but to be physically touched was a completely different subject; this did not settle well with him. If the actions had not been done by a young girl and by someone who he perceived as an individual not having a full grasp on how to adequately approach someone, he would have handled thing much differently. Instead, he further inspected her scars and then made full eye connection letting the finger rest upon his chest while she spoke.

Her statement and question bewildered him and his thoughts jumped to confusion once more. What in the hell is wrong with this girl, he thought. Who in their right mind makes a scene, approaches a complete stranger and then expects a respectful response? Whight momentarily broke eye contact when she finished speaking to observe the physical contact she continued to make. He immediately noticed more scars and he almost laughed to himself but did not let it show. Clearly this girl had some issues and judging by the traits of her character, he felt the girl brought most of the issues upon herself.

Whight made a soft grab on her wrist and made eye contact once more. Slowly, he removed the connection she was making while intensifying his gaze toward her. He let go of her wrist leaving it hovering inches over where it once pressed. He made sure his face let her know she was not to touch him again especially if she wanted any more attention from him; his reaction to another touch by the girl he knew not.

He gave her a queer look and said, "I thought I made it perfectly clear that I did not intend on associating with you. In fact, I'm pretty sure I was leaving. As for your "joke" I thought it to be foolish and I'm well aware that you did nothing to me, hence my confusion. I was only watching you because I was interested to see where the ice you had shaped in you hand would be thrown." His words were smooth. He did not raise or lower his voice but spoke to her as he would anyone else. Even though she deserved harsher words, they were not produced by his mouth but he was not afraid to dig into her a touch. "I know not of your story but know this, it would not surprise me that there are more scars beneath your clothes and it would be even less surprising if many were the outcome of your own stupidity based on your actions here. I have no problem with you besides the scene you just threw me into. I realize I was staring and I apologized and if this is the manner in which you continue to speak to me, throwing accusations and assumptions my way, then I shall leave you to go about my day as if this had never taken place." As annoyed as he was there were characteristics he found interesting in the girl. For one she had no fear and he found that odd for some reason.

He tightened the grip on his journal and waited for her response.

This man thoroughly rubbed her the wrong way. She knew he must not be from around here, because he was acting like a damn fool otherwise. People around here knew her and they were used to her. People kept their mouths shut around her. And if Jack spoke, yeah it was going to be rude, but everything was a joke. They would know if she was serious. All she had wanted to know was if he had a target in mindand the guy had been ogling her- and she was the strange one?

She saw his eyes flick to her scars and she pressed her finger more firmly, growling, "My eyes are over here, pal." He grabbed her wrist and she eyes flashed challengingly- only the very brave dared to touch her. He spoke like a robot and her irritation grew, though she was not sure why. Those who let their emotions rule their lives wore her out (cough cough Chase) and she had always appreciated the curt, like James.

But she also knew that their was an ignorance to faking the lack of emotions. Hell, her stupidest was when she denied herself an emotional outlet. She was most real when she released her anger or her happiness. The times she closed it off, and there were many of those, were the times she really ceased to be herself and she remained the shell of what the world wanted.

"Then are you deaf? I made a joke and asked you if you had a specific target in mind. If you left it at an apology, I'd get it. I recall you saying 'I made a scene.' You must be sheltered if you think that's a scene. And obviously, you're either very sensitive or on your period because one joke was enough for you to publically announce a false judgement you made of me. That's slander, my friend." His grip tightened but she didn't notice. It took a lot more than that to hurt her. If he thought she was some regular teen girl, he was wrong. She was made of steel.

He continued on with his judgements and she shook her head. "You really are new around here, either that or you're stupid. My story is no one's business but my own and if you knew half the story, your tone would be much different. That was nowhere close to a scene and if you think it was, you will live your life skirting anything interesting in search of 'stability' which, I assure you, is an urban legend. But if you want a life worth living, maybe you'll think of a witty response the next time someone throws you a curve ball." She pulled her hand away and turned to leave, done with this man.

He could have cared less about what the girl had to say soon after she began to speak again. Her sense of humor was clearly in a different form of which Whight was unfamiliar. It wasn't that he was sensitive, it was that he just seen no sense in it, therefore, it annoyed him and that's when he speaks up. As she spoke he stared at her blankly waiting for her to stop speaking so he could go on about his day. By this time he didn't care what the girl had to offer but at the same time he knew a bridge between a possible friend was being destroyed. This would have bothered him had she not rubbed him the wrong way; Whight's idea of approaching people did not involve making a sense big or small.

Whight never had to have the last word and he was sure this was something the girl craved for. And this talk about skirting anything interesting almost made him laugh. His version of 'interesting' was clearly of a different level than hers as well. He knew the girl was an obvious hot-head and those were just the type of people Whight intentionally ignored.

She finally turned to leave which made Whight happier than anything. He didn't owe anything to this girl and he felt she was equally as rude as he had been. Some take her so called 'jokes' differently than others, it amazed him that she expected him to respond in a certain way but Whight did not waste his time amusing those who wanted the obvious.

He watched her walk away, smirked and let out a slight laugh through his nose. For some reason he was more than certain that he would be seeing the girl again somewhere else if she did not turn around to further engage in aggravated conversation. He turned to leave hoping she wouldn't.

Jack didn't glance behind her because, prior to common belief, she actually was a rather mature young individual. She had some superiority issues, but she had aged a lot in her time since the start of her seventh year of Hogwarts. She was not polite and she was anything but refined, but she did know she was honest and true to herself, and that was thousand times more mature than most of the females her age.

However, society liked their females a bit quieter. And nicer.

She walked over to a snack bar and fished for a coin or two; she knew she only had a few, but she really needed something to drink. She ordered a hot chocolate and turned away while she waited for her turn to recieve her drink. The man was walking off and she smirked. At least he had fought back a little. Better than those other sods who just cowered.

She recieved her drink and slid the money to the vendor, before raising her foam cup after the man. And then she drank.