#a. b.

why is it always “who are you, A.B.?” and not “how are you, A.B.?”. i thought you were a gentleman!

as for detention, i prefer not to waste my precious time on such things, and i advise you not to waste yours trying to find me. why are you even going to put me to detention anyway, for the letters? i think you are going to need a bigger reason. for example, if someone (not me) puts a hair loss curse on you..

but if we are talking about places, maybe you could let me into your dorm sometime? for detention purposes, of course ;)

good luck and watch your back,

A.B.

"Watch your back, my A%$..."

William is slowly starting to lose patience with that one. Who do they think they are! Absolute Baffoon! Abrasive Barbarian! Annoying Blister on my foot! Will has all the proof he needs, be it his or Sebastian's owls over the past week or two! Although finding some more proof never hurts... Let's see if there's something that can be done.

Reappearing in the kitchens, the being scurried to the girl sitting on the corner of the table with a prefect’s letter in her hand.

“Miss, Cooby brought it! Here, Miss!” Elf handed the vial to the girl and looked up at her, patiently waiting for her to take it from his hands.

“Ah, thank you, Cooby!” She replied, taking the potion from the elf and tucking it in the inner pocket of her robes.

A house elf broke into a sheepish smile, “Cooby is happy to assist Miss. Miss is always kind to Cooby.”

“Because we are friends, right?” the girl said, scribbling a message on the back of the prefect's letter, using a piece of charcoal.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ✽ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

nice try, Will.

my full name is Annoying Bastard.

next question? :)

A.B.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ✽ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

By the time William comes back from the Owlery, the vial of interest is already gone. Questioning his loyal first and second-year Slytherins yields no results. William already knew that he won't be able to use the potion to his advantage, but it is nice to get a confirmation: not that long after, a now-familiar owl drops a letter onto his head without as much as a warning.

"This owl shares its manners with its master," he grumbles.

Will is a bit surprised that the message is written in charcoal. Oh no, poor student, they must not have enough money for a quill that lasts more than a couple of letters! Poor thing, perhaps Will can look past the rudene— huh? Annoying Bastard?! Hmpf!

but meet up, dearest? no, of course not. you are rushing our relationship too much. i'd like to take it slow.

although, if you want any information from me, i am happy to provide. :)

i suppose that typhlops persicus gave you my note about the potion. be careful with it.

have a great day, Will.

A.B.

Will writes a reply, grumbling that the only relationship he's trying to rush here is AB's date with detention. But his reply is politely worded and relayed on paper in beautiful penmanship, with sweeps and curls, as usual. The mention of being a proper gentleman made him sit up straight and raise his chin up. Of course he is a proper gentleman, why, thank you!

A.B.

Upon getting the owl, Will squints at the letter really hard. Not because his vision is getting worse (at least not yet, according to his papa), but because the handwriting looks entirely too familiar. Almost as if Will has already spent quite some time staring as the parchment from this same sender the other week. Or literally this morning thanks to an anonymous tip: Will has been keeping an eye on the bottle's hiding spot the whole day, hoping the culprit would come pick it up —an ongoing task still. Nothing an watchful prefect can't handle, of course.

"Ah, the Shoe Assailant," the prefect smacks his lips.