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So, Nicolei was Head Boy, and the Head Girl was Wright, from Daxton's own house. He was more focused on Nicolei for now, though, even moreso than the fact that Rooney Bronwyn had also been chosen as prefect. It had not escaped Daxton's memory that he had once, in first year, given the current Head Boy a hearty punch. Even less likely to be forgotten that the reason for this was Henric Nicolei's tendency to grab people without warning. The fact that one of their leaders was practically a Grindylow in disguise did not help to bolster Daxton's (non-existent) respect for any of the students in this compartment.
Without so much as turning to look at the Head Boy, though keeping him very much in sight in his peripheral vision, Daxton gave a simple shrug of the shoulders, and put his feet up on the empty seat across from him, idly rubbing at one of his painful knees with his free hand. Not lost, no, but certainly he had a reason to be here, otherwise he would not have shown up in the first place.
SLAM.
Admittedly, though Daxton was always on the alert for unexpected things, he still had not been expecting the compartment door to be flung open so violently behind him. His first thoughts went - perhaps not quite so irrationally - to the possibility that someone had followed him here, most likely to attack him. He flinched violently, and whipped his head around to see who it was so quickly that he cricked his neck. Already starting to stand up and make a run for it, Daxton looked to the door but saw only... a kid. A really little kid, one he had not seen before. A first year?
At least, that was what she wanted them to think. Daxton eyed her suspiciously, his stare quickly turning into a glare, and then a scowl when the girl went ahead and left anyway. Either she really was just a first year, or perhaps she had realised that attacking in a compartment full of prefects might be unwise, that just maybe there might be one that sided with Daxton. Stranger things had happened. One thing was for certain, and that was that he was not touching the Almost-Definitely-Poisoned Jelly Slugs.
Rubbing at his neck instead of his knee now, Daxton settled back into his seat, not even close to feeling relaxed. He frowned and looked at each of the assembled prefects again, eyes lingering on the Gryffindor girl - he thought her name might be Richards - who had spoken up yet not attempted to order him to leave. And Daxton indeed made no move to exit the compartment. Maybe he would stick around until the train reached its destination. That seemed the safest option. He would be glad to get to school and away from the confinement of this train, this glorified prison-on-tracks.
__________________ Days of Potter 2023:___________________________ Which Bertie Botts Flavour Are You?
You are Chocolate! |