September 16, 1888 — Ravenclaw common room

It was now midnight. Orinda stood anxiously in the center of the deserted room that was lit by candles and the embers of a dying fire. Would he come? Would he not? Only time would tell.

---

  

When he'd first received the letter the other day he'd been doing homework. Therefore, he was immensely annoyed when an owl had knocked excessively on the window nearest his desk, not ceasing until it was let in and the parchment dropped on his desk. He'd looked first who it was from. The labeling 'your secret admire' made him think it a joke, and he crumpled the paper and tossed in the waste bin to be disposed of later by the house elves. The second had come two days later, delivered by his confused roommate - who'd let the owl in while Mander was in a prefects meeting. He'd never even bothered to read the third. Upon receipt, it was once more tossed.

The only reason he was coming into the common room at this time was that he'd been coming back from patrol - the little second year had gotten luck in staging a meeting the time he'd be coming back from patrol. It was the only day that he had a patrol that week - he'd traded with another perfect for the morning shift for the rest of the days he'd been assigned. He preferred the morning patrols as there were fewer people causing trouble. Which is why when he came back to the common room and saw the halfbreed there, his lips curled in hints of disgust.

"Ruskin," the sixth year barked. "You are breaking curfew being up. The only reason I'm not writing you up is I hate docking house points from Ravenclaw. I will if need be." With that he started towards the stairs.

---

Orinda Ruskin

  

Mr. Macnair entered the room and Orinda's heart went all aflutter. He said her name-- well, her last name-- and a happy sigh escaped her lips. He was there. He'd gotten her notes. But then he said he'd dock points from her for being out of her room. "Wait, what?" she blurted, taking a step forward. "I thought you were here because of my notes!"

Walking closer to the stairs leading up to the boys' dormitories, Orinda's face fell as she realized that the object of her affections hadn't even read the notes she had sent him. "Oh," she said quietly, staring up at him with despair. "You didn't even read them, did you? I poured my heart out in those notes and you didn't even read them. Why are you here, Mr. Macnair? Why did you even bother coming down here if you weren't interested in who had sent them? Did you think they were from Miss Scrimgeour? Is that why you came? She couldn't have gotten in here, you know. Or maybe they were from someone else, someone who is taller, older, prettier?" Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the older boy on the stairs.

  

"Your notes?" he questioned, his face blank in confusion. He was sure he would have remembered receiving a note asking him to come to the common room. The time would have flagged some kind of warning bell in his head. Even though he was a perfect, he was rarely the one anyone came to for help. He openly accepted that he fairly unapproachable. The only reason he was made perfect was likely his name and his grades and that was fine with him. He didn't care for having to help the homesick first years more than duty mandated he did.

As she blabbered, on it was like a light bulb lit up overhead as he connected two and two together to make four. It must have been the halfbreed that wrote those notes. A half-vampire had written him love notes. If anyone found out, he would never live it down. Frankly, he didn't know why she bothered. While Miss Scrimgeour and himself didn't go around announcing their betrothal, it wasn't like it was a secret. A year in and a good chunk of people knew. She'd likely heard wind that there lay claim on him - even if he found Holly to be an annoying nuisance. At least Holly had the name to back her - rather than being descended from vampires and mudbloods.

"I was in the common room because I was going back from patrol. It was part of my duties as a perfect," he snorted, almost amused she thought there was a slight chance he'd even tolerate her, let alone like her back. "I read the first two - figured they were a joke. Tossed them in the garbage. Even if I had read the notes - I wouldn't have come to meet you."

He edged towards the stairs. He wasn't good with crying females. Likely not crying males but he'd never been placed in that scenario. He'd barely tolerated it with his cousin Sencea at the funeral and he'd grown up with her and she was likely the only female he'd ever call a friend.

He snorted though, at the mention of Holly and hat he might have come down for his betrothed. She was seriously wrong in that regard. And frankly, he had a suspicion that the girl could easily get into the Ravenclaw tower if she wanted to. She wasn't dumb. She could answer a riddle.

"It doesn't matter what traits I would expect in a female. You could meet all of them - no you couldn't. Frankly, I couldn't fathom the idea of even being liked by a halfbreed."

---

Orinda Ruskin

  

Orinda listened as Mr. Macnair spoke, for a moment all her pain in her heart dissipating. And then it came rushing back. He was... he was... awful. Simply awful. Her lower lip quivered, poking out just a teensy bit. He was... she was... she was mad. He was dismissing her because she was a half-vampire? What made him better than her? Because he didn't have a vampire as a mother? That wasn't her fault in the least. She didn't ask to be born from a vampire-- and she wouldn't change it either. If her mother hadn't married her father, then she wouldn't even be here right now!

Stepping forward, Orinda's hands balled up into little fists. She wouldn't take a swing at him, that was a surefire way to get points docked, but she would definitely give him a piece of her mind.

"Now you see here, Mr. Macnair, just because my mother is a vampire doesn't mean I'm not as good as you are. Or Miss Scrimgeour! I'm every bit a witch as you are a wizard. I bet you don't have a professor as a grandfather do you? What are your parents like? I bet they're stuck up and haughty like you are. That's what I bet."

  

Unlike what he had expected - which was for the girl to go slinking off to go cry in the privacy of her dorm, she turned into a ball of rage that matched her brilliant shade of hair. He stood silently while she ranted, spitting out the typical equality junk. It was the same old points every time. Maybe he'd take the time to listen if she didn't just spew her opinions, but rather backed herself with facts, but as she didn't, the sixth year had no issue at all dismissing her as if she was nothing more than a house elf.

"You are a halfbreed. It is as simple as that. You only have one side of your lineage that contains magical history. And not only that, the one side is 'muggleborn'. It is weaker than magical blood ought to be. And no, I don't have a grandfather who teaches. If anyone in my family decides to work, they work in the ministry or do their own research. But by your own argument, Miss Ruskin - what your grandfather is shouldn't matter as you do not choose his profession."

He shrugged and turned back to head up the stars.

---

Orinda Ruskin

  

Rage filled Orinda as she listened to him disparage not only her, but everyone like her. That included her sisters. He could talk about her all he wanted, but when he started talking about her family, she couldn't handle it any more. She wouldn't harm him, but she could hex his clothes or something. Find one of his books and then spell it to stay closed. See how his grades suffered. That'd be good revenge.

"You go ahead, Mr. Macnair," she said venomously, "Talk about my family one more time. See if I don't report you to the Headmaster or the Matron and see if you remain a prefect after talking to one of your fellow Ravenclaws that way. I have every right to be here as you do. You claim my blood is weaker than yours, but I say it's just as strong because I'm not a racist bigot like you are."

  

He almost snorted with laughter as she threated to report him. Who would they take seriously? Who would they side with? A half-vampire a year behind who was only in school once more because an over-sympathetic minister lifted the ban and not because of the headmaster's morals? Or the prefect with a spotless record, a name that distantly tied him to the headmaster. He'd like to see her try. "Go ahead and report me. I've done nothing wrong Miss Ruskin. I've stated facts and shared my opinions. I turned down an advance that should anyone else know about would likely hurt your reputation with no intentions of making a scene about. I've done nothing to harm you. Frankly, you should be more concerned about the fact if you reported me, you would then have to confess to breaking the rules - and that your crush turned you down. And on that note, off to your room before I dock points for being out past curfew Miss Ruskin."

---

Orinda Ruskin

  

Frustrated, Orinda blew air out of her nose in a loud sound of aggravation. She knew he was right but it wasn't fair. He was in the wrong-- he was acting like a jerk to her and all because he thought she was less of a witch and as a person because she wasn't a pureblooded idiot like he was-- and she would be punished for it. If she knew any charms that would make his pants fall down, she'd do it. Even if she did have to lose points to do it. She'd gladly take the reputation ding and the loss of points to make the jerk feel as embarrassed as she felt right now.

"I'm going," she said hotly. "And not because you're telling me to. But because I want to. If you think you're better than me, so be it. Everyone who can see anything knows that I'm better than you. And mainly because you're a giant stinky head!" Turning around, Orinda stomped up her stairs, pausing at the very top where he couldn't see her and stuck her tongue out. Giant stinky head indeed.