(1941-11-16) A Dangerous Formula
Details for A Dangerous Formula
Summary: Alexander + Tavish = High Chance of Trouble.
Date: Wednesday, November 11, 1941
Location: Sixth Floor, East Wing

For the past half-hour, Tavish has sat cross-legged on the floor in his normal corner of the wing, a conjured pillow squished between his back and the wall. He has a stack of Arithmancy books sitting next to him, the topmost open to a page of arithmatical proofs which he is laboriously working through on parchment. He's on page seven, thus far. After finishing one equation he stops, blowing out a slow breath through his nose as he sets his quill aside and gingerly rubs his wrist.

Having been wandering the halls for the past hour, attempting to kill time that simply seems to drag on, Alexander is utterly bored. While he has plenty of places to climb that would entertain him, he knows it would only be a few minutes before he groaned and went on to the next thing that possibly caught his attention. The only thing, or person rather, that really caused him to focus was currently studying and demanded that Alexander, "Leave me alone and let me read at least one chapter!". After getting knocked into by the fourth first year that squeaks out a terrified sorry before sprinting in the, usually, wrong direction, Alexander decides, to hell with it, and stalks his way to the 6th floor. Within a few minutes, he's striding into the east wing, very ungracefully sitting next to the Ravenclaw, the stack of books sitting between them and an innocent grin on Alexander's face, "Hey." Was all he said.

Tavish says nothing, at first, eyes cast downwards as he digs his fingertips into the muscles of his wrist and forearm. Finally though, he sighs and picks his quill back up. "Nearly made it through half a chapter," he says, in lieu of an actual greeting. "That must be a record for you." He absentmindedly flips through the last few pages of parchment, mouth thinned into a line. "Have you finished that treatise for Potions yet?"

Alexander watches with careful eyes, his eyebrow rising as Tavish focuses the most likely pain in his writing hand from, well, all the writing he has been doing. When Tavish replies with a snide remark, Alexander chuckles while shaking his head, but says nothing in return. He does, though, look away when the smaller male decides to ask him questions, "Of course I did." Is his short reply, looking up at the ceiling.

There's a pause, and then Tavish reaches into his bag without looking away from the parchments in his hand, wordlessly pulling out a thin leather portfolio that he smacks against Alexander's chest. "You're a terrible liar," he says, which isn't strictly true, but Tavish sees right through him anyway.

Watching carefully, Alexander slightly scoots away from Tavish in secret, having a feeling that he was going to be— And there it is. Taking the portfolio from Tavish's hands, Alexander scowls at him, "You are so violent, I could have died." He mutters, staring at the portfolio with hate and disgust before chuckling, the sound low and soft, "To you? That is very true, it's nearly impossible." Alexander says with an affirmative nod, still holding the portfolio in the hand furthest from the culprit.

"If only," Tavish bites back, but without heat. He holds up a hand then to signal for silence as he quickly jots down another line of numbers, then carefully rearranges the parchments together and tucks them inside the open book. "That'll do," he murmurs, mostly to himself, then starts to pack his books into his bag. "Only because I've seen you lie to the professors as many times as I have. You're terrible, you know."

"You—" Alexander gets cut off by the hand of silence, leaning back and chuckling to himself as Tavish scribbles down whatever he needs. Nothing but his breath comes from Alexander until he hears the words that notes Tavish is done, leaning forward again to complete his sentence, "Love me!" He finishes, handing back the portfolio as his partner in crime continues to pack. Alexander makes a 'tsk' sound, poking Tavish in the side, "I only get away with lying because you're there, don't act like it was all me." He waggles his finger at Tavish.

Tavish narrows his eyes at Alexander, but it fails by a large margin to be actually threatening. "Please," he says. "Don't try to pin all of your trouble making on me. I am a hapless bystander at the *very* least." He brandishes his quill at Alexander as if it were a sword, but it soon joins the rest of his things in his bag, which he promptly shoves over so he can flop down and use it as a pillow. "Really, I'm more a victim than anything."

Raising an eyebrow at the oh so threatening Tavish, Alexander simply shakes his head at his denials. "Like you would be a victim." Alexander states, laying down completely, crossing his ankles and putting his arms behind his head, "I'm more of the victim than you are, you bully me into actually completing my homework and then use me as a guard dog for your own selfish needs. So incredibly rude." Alexander teases, a grin spreading onto his lips with ease even though he knows Tavish is unable to see it

"You are entirely full of shit," Tavish replies, but he's smirking up at the ceiling as he reaches over to smack his hand against Alexander's stomach hard enough to sting. "You would've flunked your O.W.L.s if not for me, show a little gratitude!" He rubs his face with one hand, laughing breathlessly.

Goes to say something but the stinging in his stomach stops him short, a breath of air coming out as an 'oof' is all that is heard as Alexander quite literally rolls away from Tavish. "I need to go to the nursing wing." He moans in mock pain, reaching out with his foot to nudge his friend before rolling back to be parallel to Tavish. "I already showed you gratitude by letting you hit me without kicking your ass." He teases, going back into his original position, a promise in his head to get the shit later.

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