Tell me.
Leave a “Tell Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character confessing something to yours.
Flashback - Spring 1941
Ignatius thought that he would have holes in the sides of his head if he continued to rub his temples so vigorously. He was seated in a corner of the Gryffindor common room alone, attempting to read a few old books on wizarding law enforcement from the early 19th century, but found his studying rudely interrupted by a hushed argument one table down from himself.
The Crouch girl was arguing with her roommate for what seemed like the thousandth time about her views on muggle-borns. The way that she so boldly stated her claims with a relaxed whim of tongue against the aforementioned made his blood boil, especially so since it was in the confines of his own common room.
After hearing the words ‘they just don’t belong’ escape the girl’s lips, Ignatius slammed his book shut and stood up with such ferocity that he knocked his chair over. Whirling around to the seated pair of girls, he looked directly at Callias with a disgusted expression etched on his features.
“You listen here, girl. I don’t want to hear any of that foul talk in my presence when my girlfriend happens to be muggle-born and damned proud of it. Either you zip your shit up, or I’ll do it for you.” Fuming, he gathered his books and began to walk to the boys dormitory. Turning around, he shouted back at her, “Oh, and if your Chaser skills don’t improve by the end of the week, you’re off the ruddy team.”
