Friend or Foe? (Violet and Brooke)

Classes had finally ended and Tristan was exhausted. Smiling to himself, he made his way through the sea of people who had also finished class and headed straight to the black lake. He counted on the fact that everyone would be too busy with their friends to go down there at this time of day, as Brooke had told him. Earlier that day, he had passed her in the halls and she had quickly slipped a letter in his hands, asking him to meet her here after he was done for the day. She had also said that it was usually empty around this time, which would give them privacy. In his eyes, she was never wrong.

The sun was still shining brightly, but it was not so hot, instead gently warming the place. There was a slight breeze on the wind that came with autumn. He smiled, realizing that for once, he wouldn't have to spend winter huddled in some alley, trying to keep warm; he had a family now. And it was his sister he was going to meet, he thought, the smile growing.

Taking a seat beneath a tree, he noted that he was early and leaned back, waiting for Brooke to arrive. He wasn't sure exactly how he felt about school, but if classes meant being close to her, he would gladly stay at Hogwarts. Somehow they had a connection, as though they were blood siblings, and not having just met slightly more than a week ago.

Violet had been walking around, through the trees near the lake, when she saw a boy take a seat beneath a tree. She'd been on a walk because she was bored, a common feeling for her. Well, not necessarily bored, but just without anything to do, so she decided to search for opportunities to entertain herself. Usually, at home, she'd watch television, or she'd read. Though she wasn't in the mood to read at the moment, nor did she have access to a television, so she decided exploring would suffice.

The boy provided some more opportunity for entertainment. The sort she loved, to freak people out a bit. She just got a thrill, and those thrills were like crack to her. She didn't know why, she was just addicted.

She walked quietly and stood behind the tree he was sitting at before she said "Hello there,"

As he waited, he watched the waves made by the creatures that lived in the lake slowly approach the bank before disappearing. It was a nice to be able to relax, not having to worry about anyone or anything trying to attack you. Still, his sense of hearing was so trained, he picked up the light footsteps of someone approaching. Thinking it was his sister, he didn't give it a second thought.

"Hello there."

It was not the voice he expected, and he turned around sharply, standing up. "H-h-hey," he stuttered, unsure who this girl was, other than the fact she was a Hufflepuff. They were the loyal and kind people, weren't they? He remembered Brooke telling him about the different houses. She can't be all that bad, then, he decided. "I'm T-T-Tristan," he introduced, still stammering. He was not used to talking to anyone other than Brooke or his adoptive parents.

"I'm T-T-Tristan,"

"T-T-Tristan's your name?" she tilted her head to the side "Well, hello there T-T-Tristan. I'm Violet," she replied in a condescending tone "Did I seriously scare you that much? Because if I scared you, then you really need to toughen up a bit princess," she walked around to stand in front of him "It's only acceptable for people to be scared of me when I make them scared. Saying 'hello' isn't scary. It just ruins the whole fun of being creepy when you get so easily frightened,"

"Well, hello there T-T-Tristan. I'm Violet,"

His expression remained neutral through her introduction, knowing that she was mocking him. "Hello, Violet," he whispered when she was done. Being friendly was not something he was used to.

"Did I seriously scare you that much? Because if I scared you, then you really need to toughen up a bit princess,"

He waited for her to move, wondering what he could say to that. Finally, he shook his head. "I was expecting someone else. I'm not scared," he said, finding his voice was firmer than he thought it would be. A trace of a smile was at the corner of his lips, secretly happy that he could converse with someone other than his family.

"It's only acceptable for people to be scared of me when I make them scared. Saying 'hello' isn't scary. It just ruins the whole fun of being creepy when you get so easily frightened,"

At this, he giggled slightly, his eyes growing wide in surprise at his bravery. "You're not creepy at all. I've..." he stopped there, suddenly realizing what he had been about to say: I've dealt with creepier. He didn't want to go blurting his life story to someone he had just met. "Never mind," he quickly added.

"I was expecting someone else. I'm not scared,"

"Sure you weren't T-T-Tristan," she merely shrugged "You see, I think you were scared. Otherwise you wouldn't be stuttering your own name like that. Unless of course you were born with a stutter, but then you wouldn't whisper your greeting to me. So I scared you a little bit at least,"

"You're not creepy at all. I've...Never mind,"

She looked at him curiously, at his abrupt stop in speech "Believe me, I can be very creepy." she said slowly "You've what? Had creepier?" she guessed. Usually that's what people said "... Who?"

He listened with some shock to her reply. Maybe Hufflepuffs weren't all nice, he decided. "I'm not used to people," he explained, finding that he was gaining more confidence. Talking to people still wasn't his forte, but he was beginning to see why Brooke liked making new friends.

"Who?"

He hesitated, wondering who he'd tell her about. There was a whole list of people he avoided. There was that weird glasses man who walked with a limp and bared his teeth instead of talking - Tristan had even seen him attempt to bite someone before. Then there was that old woman who had offered him a place to stay and then made him dress up in dresses and made him pose for her... He shuddered at the thought. No, telling Violet this would not be beneficial for either of them.

"A lot of people... When you've gone through what I have, you'll understand," he replied softly.

"I'm not used to people,"

"Well that's evident," she replied to him shortly, and abrupt in her manner. She tended to be brief with her interactions. Short and (never) sweet.

"A lot of people... When you've gone through what I have, you'll understand,"

"Well, who's to say that I haven't been through something like you have?" she questioned. She was certain she hadn't, but he didn't know that. Mostly she was just curious, and nosy. Well, more nosy than curious. And perhaps she could get him to tell. It'd be her entertainment for however long it took "Now, stop being so nervous and spit it out,"

"Well, who's to say that I haven't been through something like you have?"

Giving her a look over, he shook his head. Everyone he'd ever met who was in the same position as him had a tell. They had scars, a distant look in their eyes, a certain demeanor. Even if they've gotten away from it he could somehow tell that they understood. The Hufflepuff before him had none of these signs and he somehow knew she wasn't from the same background as him. "You haven't," he said, strangely certain of this fact.

"Now, stop being so nervous and spit it out,"

Should he tell her? So far, only his new family and the people who processed the paperwork knew of his past. He wasn't sure if he was ready for others to know the truth. "I was..." he trailed off and stopped. Even if he wanted to tell her, how was he going to put it? How would she take it?

There were more questions in his head than answers. This was harder than anything he'd done before. Without having time to process so much information, he accidentally blurted, "I lived on the streets for almost 6 years." His eyes widened when he realized what he had just admitted, and he turned away from her. Quietly, he added, "Brooke's parents adopted me."

"You haven't,"

His tone was distinctly certain. So, from that, she gathered that it would be something where there was definitely a certain look "Okay, so I probably haven't. The most 'traumatic' thing I went through was having my parents split up. Which actually worked in my favour, so I'm not entirely bothered by it," she shrugged.

"I lived on the streets for almost 6 years... Brooke's parents adopted me."

When he finally told her (though it wasn't as hard as she thought it would be), Vi couldn't see the big deal "Okay, you lived on the streets," she said "You're adopted now though. What's so hard to talk about...?"

"Okay, so I probably haven't. The most 'traumatic' thing I went through was having my parents split up. Which actually worked in my favour, so I'm not entirely bothered by it,"

He looked at her, slight disgust written on his face. She had seemed like a spoilt brat to him when he had first seen her, and this had just proved him right, he thought. Her next comment about him had made him believe that even more, and he shook his head, not believing her lack of understanding. But of course, what he thought and what he did were on two separate sides.

"T-t-told you you wouldn't understand," he muttered. What could he tell her to make her think otherwise? Oh, sure, he had plenty of stories, and the markings on his body to prove it, but he doubted he wanted to tell the Hufflepuff before him any of that.

"T-t-told you you wouldn't understand,"

"Nope. I have no understanding whatsoever. Though, I'll tell you this," she said, clearing her throat a little "The past is the past and you can either, one, let it affect you so much that you don't know how to cope, let it eat you from the inside out. Or, two, you can just move on from it." Violet wasn't one for understanding feelings. They didn't bother her, hers always seemed muted (not purposefully muted). She felt happiness, a twisted sort of happiness, and pride (obviously) but she'd never felt heartache, or pain. She didn't have the capacity to. That was why, the solution seemed to her so simple. To just let it go. She'd had two 'emotionally-crippling' events in her life (not to the extent of Tristan's, obviously). One, her parents splitting. And that hadn't affected her. The second, the attack at the quidditch game. That to her had been exhilarating (plus, she had gotten extra money for that photo she took that was published in the papers). But nothing had ever been sad, depressing, or heartbreaking. She'd never had the capacity to feel such emotions. Those were the 'useless' emotions.

"Or, two, you can just move on from it."

He nodded, hearing and understanding the wisdom behind her words, but also knowing that this wasn't something that one could 'move on from' as quickly or as easily as Violet had made it sound. Too many nights on the street and countless narrow escapes with his life made it difficult to forget.

"I'm trying," he said softly. "It's not easy, not if you've seen the things I have." He had no idea why he had just said that, but it was already out there, so there was no point in regretting. That was something he had learnt on the streets: regret was not something that was helpful. If you screw up, you don't take time to wonder what you could have done different; you get yourself out of the mess and then never make the same mistake again.

"I'm trying," he said softly. "It's not easy, not if you've seen the things I have."

"Well," she said "Obviously you're not trying hard enough," she sighed, annoyed at his persistent 'woe-is-me' attitude. "Seriously, see a counsellor or something if you're so affected by it. No one wants to be around people who aren't content with themselves. It gets annoying, and in all honesty, frustrating." someone needed to get it through the boy's head, and it seemed she was the only one who had the guts to "So, buck up, be a man, and stop looking back,"

"Seriously, see a counsellor or something if you're so affected by it. No one wants to be around people who aren't content with themselves. It gets annoying, and in all honesty, frustrating."

"I am content," he shot back, finding he wasn't as scared as when he first met her. It surprised him, but that was that, and he would just roll with whatever came. "It not something that can happen overnight. I love my family and I'm happy, but ..." he trailed off, suddenly realizing what he was saying and shrinking back into his shy state. How was he supposed to tell her what happened? Rolling back his sleeves, he showed her the scar on his arm. "I almost died. That's not something you just move on from," he said softly. "So when people brush against me, of course I flinch."

When she got such a reaction from him, Violet smirked, it had been the sort of thing she'd been digging at the whole time, and she had finally got the satisfaction she'd wanted. But then he stopped himself from the outburst again, speaking in that irritatingly soft voice of his. She much preferred conversing with those more confident.

"I almost died. That's not something you just move on from," he said softly. "So when people brush against me, of course I flinch."

"How'd that happen?" she asked curiously.

"How'd that happen?"

There was no pity in her voice, only curiosity, and it surprised him, but not in a bad way. He was so used to people feeling sorry that her apathy didn't come off as too bad. "I don't know," he admitted, wondering if he should tell her the whole story. A few seconds passed as he debated it, before deciding that, based on what he'd learnt about her, it wouldn't be too bad a thing. "I picked his pocket and the next thing I remember is pain, and then I was running, and then I passed out."

Realizing how bad that made him sound, he added, "I only stole to survive, you know. I was good at it, too." Merlin, he was beginning to brag! He chuckled at his own courage, before giving Violet the smallest of smiles.

Violet listened curiously to his story, which was somewhat a let down, that he didn't remember such events. But there was nothing she could do about that. She didn't return the smile he gave her, she wasn't the type to smile unless she wanted something "Pickpocket aye?" she tilted her head, considering for a moment "Well, you were good at it right up to the moment the victim almost killed you," she added. She didn't pickpocket, feeling the risk of getting caught would be too great, she preferred other sneakier, more manipulative methods "A better way to steal is to rough yourself up, go to mothers with babies, and give them big, watering puppy-dog eyes and to sob about how you haven't eaten in days. They almost certainly give you some cash, motherly instinct or something,"

"Well, you were good at it right up to the moment the victim almost killed you,"

"I've been doing it for many years. Never got caught once. I don't think he was any normal wizard," he told her, voicing his suspicions of that man for the first time. It was something he hadn't told anyone before, not even his new family, because he knew they wouldn't condone such things.

At her suggestion, he grinned a little. "I've done that a few times, but they're getting wiser now." He shook is head. "You can only do that a few times before they recognize you. Always the same faces on the streets." Finally feeling more comfortable, he sat back down, wondering if she was going to do the same. "I prefer methods where they never even see you."

"Well, I guess now that you know some magic, it'll be a whole lot easier," she said "Why don't you think this bloke was a 'normal wizard'?" she asked. She listen as he explained why he could only do her suggestion a couple of times "You'd think that they'd recognise you as a street kid and help you even more," she replied "But I guess people lack kindness," she added and shrugged a little "Though I can't talk,"