Wallace Fontaine

‘ Now that’s a line to remember. Something that’d make me interested. A gossip that would get me fall on my back impressed or something.’

Wallace grinned, the look cheeky and full of suggestion. Rita made it too easy. She always did. But then, her reputation had certainly preceded her. "Really? 'Fall on your back' impressed? Is that really all it takes?"

   “I’m not particularly inclined to spend another afternoon on arguing who’d be whose bitch in prison, so use the goddamn name.”

   William does allow himself to be more frivolous with expressing his frustrations around Wallace, safety in the fact that the boy wouldn’t be as affected as others might be. 

   “You didn’t have to say anything, I know the look. Not going back to that joke of a Muggle studies lecture, and unless you plan to skip with me, save your breath.” The boy smiles then, wide and light, rolling his shoulder in a shrug. “The only compelling argument would be saving the attendance record, and with that I hadn’t exactly bothered since Dumbledore fed me the golden badge of power abuse.” 

"You know you need only imply." Wallace was talking about skipping, of course. Actually, implication would get you almost anywhere with him. Ever the huge fan of acting out. "Who cares about attendance." He rolls his eyes, the flat of his hand smoothing slowly over the top of his short, cropped hair. "I could spend some time in the Great Hall. It's almost second lunch, the first snow has passed, and you know how I feel about girls in knitted sweaters."