A Word?

Keiran was tired. Not because of schoolwork or Quidditch practice - or even brooding, which he was very good at. Instead, he was tired because of one Jack Dyllan. She'd been pulling all manner of pranks on Keiran and at least one other Slytherin on the house team, at least to the captain's knowledge, and now there was word of her getting into a physical fight with Matt Lestrange as well? It was frustrating, if only because it was distracting. And this was not a year that the team needed any distractions.

As worried as Keiran already was about his final year -- NEWTs and career goals and everything else -- he still had hopes of going out with a win. He wanted the house cup. He wanted to destroy Gryffindor, if only for the bragging rights over Jack herself. And the odds of that happening would go even further down if she kept messing with him and his team.

So after dinner one day, he positioned himself in the doorway, arms crossed, and stepped aside just in time to block her path out of the door. If she was going to make a fool of him, he wasn't going to sit back and have this conversation in private. He knew he might not manage to make less of a fool of himself, but he wouldn't look like a coward that gave in when someone pushed him.

"I understand," he began cooly, expression blatantly unimpressed, "that you think you're quite funny." For someone who called Jack a friend, Keiran wasn't trying very hard to seem, well, friendly.

Where else was she headed?

It was a rare sight, Jack Dyllan at dinner with everyone else. She was usually strolling in after every one else, or gone by the time that the crowds arrived. But today was a double detention day and the team had all been up for a lunchtime practice. By the time dinner hit, she was starving. She spent the hour shoveling food and considering whether or not she wanted to practice Beating or continue working on flying maneuvers. A few brave souls offered her a hello but otherwise she ate in solitude - something she was only aware of on a subconscious level.

She headed out, swallowing the last bite of ham as she swung through the door - and right into Keiran Hayes.

He had adopted that Slytherin look of disdain. She swore they spent the first semester teaching those clad in green how to look down their noses, scoff, and smirk - they were all so dependent on it. Heaven forbid any of them have an actual feeling beyond superiority.

Her reaction was automatic. Her face was genuine, confused, dismissive. "Me? Never made a joke in my life." And she continued past him and towards the front doors.

Keiran's gaze lifted to the ceiling, before he tilted his chin down to let out a sigh in the direction of the floor. His hands slid into his pockets in a manner that would become a lifelong habit of his, before he stood up straighter and started trailing along behind her. His long legs made it easy to catch up, and for a time he was quiet. He didn't really expect her to suddenly own up to what she'd been doing, but he didn't want to be the "bad guy" when it came to Jack.

Eventually, without looking at her and without any malice or disapproval in his tone, he decided to speak up. "Jack, I've been hearing some things from the rest of the team that I'm not entirely okay with. And it all leads back to you. So, I'd say you're probably having a laugh and giving me the run-around, here."

Keiran shook his head with a slight frown -- the only indication that he believed she was doing something with the intention of causing trouble. It was disappointing, really, that he had to talk to her about it, but if he were being fully honest, his pride wouldn't let him leave it alone any longer.

He just gave her so many options, it really couldn't be her fault. You can't set someone up for a perfect punchline and then be shocked when you became the butt of the joke. And it wasn't just Keiran - though Slytherins were easy targets. The higher the horse, the higher the fall, and even the decent Slytherins felt the need to portray some weird air of dignity and certainty that simply defied her understanding of teen angst and desire.

So, really, she was just trying to help them, and right now Keiran, get in touch with himself.

"You've been hearing some things? That's great. I was worried that Bludger during our last scrimmage left some lasting damage." She glanced over at him, trying to copy his lazy smirk, exaggerating it for his benefit, trying to get something sincere out of him.

"The things I've heard has been really nice. It was really great of that preschool to offer you a position on their team. And I think it's such a sign of maturity that you've petitioned to change the name of the team. Personally, I'm a fan of the Hissy Squad. Cute, but still unifying."