There was no real reason that Cassian did this. He didn’t want thanks from his peers (would rather go without ever being addressed). This wasn’t a show of acting the martyr. At the end of it all, this just felt like the right thing to do. The only choice he had, to do the right thing. He let his words to the professor run out organically, once his splitting headache returned full-force and he decided to let Thompson come to his own assessment.
Wasn’t entirely surprised, then, when Thompson didn’t really buy it. He wasn’t really the best with his words. Though – it seemed his actions spared any undue punishment for Vince or Lissington, at least, which served to absolve Cassian from a little bit of guilt. No house points docked either, saving them from the ire of their respective houses. Just detention. Fuck me. Was Thomspon delusional enough to think that all three of them together in detention would be a good idea, after their near-brawl?
Cass very nearly opened his mouth to retort this to Thompson, but a withering eyeroll from Vince made him clamp his mouth shut. That familiar flicker of anger bubbled up inside his stomach, and he decided that it was easier to keep his eyes on the ground then.
Maybe it was the residual concussion, that prevented Cassian from listening to whatever the hell else Thomspon said or even that he’d taken leave. The Gryffindor opted to stay sitting, though he pulled his knees up and rest his arms dejectedly on his legs. He might put his head on his arms and burrow there, for a minute.
Hearing his name cautiously called out drew Cassian away from idle thoughts about how much everything hurt. (Not from the throw - from what just transpired. From the way he heard rather than saw Vince drift off. They were obviously still very much in school together – but it felt final, that sight of his retreating back.) Slowly, Cassian’s bleary blue eyes slipped to the redhead who seemed to want to say… something.
“...” They just stared at each other for a minute, blinking. Finally Cass shook his head, dropping it down to his arms. The voice that came out was muffled. “...Fuck off, Lissington. I didn’t do it for you.”
Wasn’t entirely surprised, then, when Thompson didn’t really buy it. He wasn’t really the best with his words. Though – it seemed his actions spared any undue punishment for Vince or Lissington, at least, which served to absolve Cassian from a little bit of guilt. No house points docked either, saving them from the ire of their respective houses. Just detention. Fuck me. Was Thomspon delusional enough to think that all three of them together in detention would be a good idea, after their near-brawl?
Cass very nearly opened his mouth to retort this to Thompson, but a withering eyeroll from Vince made him clamp his mouth shut. That familiar flicker of anger bubbled up inside his stomach, and he decided that it was easier to keep his eyes on the ground then.
Maybe it was the residual concussion, that prevented Cassian from listening to whatever the hell else Thomspon said or even that he’d taken leave. The Gryffindor opted to stay sitting, though he pulled his knees up and rest his arms dejectedly on his legs. He might put his head on his arms and burrow there, for a minute.
Hearing his name cautiously called out drew Cassian away from idle thoughts about how much everything hurt. (Not from the throw - from what just transpired. From the way he heard rather than saw Vince drift off. They were obviously still very much in school together – but it felt final, that sight of his retreating back.) Slowly, Cassian’s bleary blue eyes slipped to the redhead who seemed to want to say… something.
“...” They just stared at each other for a minute, blinking. Finally Cass shook his head, dropping it down to his arms. The voice that came out was muffled. “...Fuck off, Lissington. I didn’t do it for you.”
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