#gryffinben

Assisting Mal from one class to another was a new development - when it came to the classes he didn’t share with her, anyway, because he took that opportunity the rest of the time when possible - but it was something Ben looked forward to as if they’d been doing it since she arrived. So when she didn’t show up that day, he wondered if something was wrong. He’d gotten to her class a few moments later than usual because of the stairs, but he waited as long as he could and still, she never showed. He ran to his Study of Ancient Runes class and got into the seat with mere seconds to spare, and wondered if Mal was sick today. And if she was, would showing up to the Slytherin common room with soup be too much?

It probably would be, but that was Ben. Mr. Above and Beyond. Especially when it came to Mal. He wanted all the Isle-born children to feel welcome and happy at Hogwarts, but he’d have been lying if he didn’t say he had a special interest in Mal. Her mother was one of the most feared ones, after all, and growing up with her couldn’t have been easy. It also didn’t hurt that Mal was interesting and clever and challenging, with eyes green enough to pierce him and through him at the same time. That and they may or may not have shared a dream or two before meeting. Sometimes he swore they still shared dreams now, but he wasn’t sure and he didn’t ask about it. If he thought Divination would’ve helped, he’d have taken that class instead, but Runes was more useful for his career, and coincidentally, much more homework. As the toll of his previous all-nighter settled in and his eyes blinked closed for longer and longer periods of time, Ben could’ve sworn he fell asleep long enough to see Mal, surrounded by pumpkins of all things. His eyes blinked open fast like someone had poured cold water on him, and he quietly gasped. Thankfully, no one turned around to look at him, and being free of the daydream? Vision? Dream? he felt warmer and normal again.

It did give him an idea on where to find Mal though, and when class was over he wandered on down to the pumpkin patch, following a hunch. He felt, admittedly, a little stupid for thinking that imagining Mal meant anything - he thought about her more than he’d admit, it wasn’t too odd of an occurrence - but then he spotted her, a dot of purple among the orange. He hurried over and saw that she was lying down, asleep. He reached over to shake her awake as gently as he could, not wanting her to get caught down here, when her fist came out at him with no warning and thwacked him straight in the chest. His jaw dropped open in surprise and as she woke up, he couldn’t help the light amusement in his voice as he said, matter-o-factly, “You punched me.” He brought his hand up to the spot she’d hit him and held it there as he crouched down to her level. “It was a good one,” he complimented, giving her a moment to wake up fully before asking, “Mal, what are you doing down here?”

“What, like you get punched a lot?” Mal scoffed once she’d had time to get her bearings. Ben wasn’t upset; that was the most important part, because if he was, he more than any stupid teacher in this stupid school had the power to ruin her. Professors could expel her, but they couldn’t force her to go back to the Isle of the Lost if she did something wrong. Ben, on the other hand... But he’d never do that to her. Deep down, Mal knew that the kind-hearted prince only wanted what was best for her, her friends, her enemies, all of the Isle kids, really. He was the first person who’d really ever given Mal a chance to be good, and reluctantly, over time, she’d taken it. 

Still, she didn’t like people calling her out on the fact that she was maybe a teeny tiny bit softer when the Gryffindor was around. And more than that, she didn’t like anyone seeing her vulnerable like this, reeling in the wake of a nightmare about her mother. Mal projected an image that Maleficent was the coolest, the toughest, the evilest -- that her mother was something to be aspired to. And maybe she was, in terms of reputation. In terms of getting people to do what she wanted and otherwise leave her alone. But as far as actually being just like Maleficent? Mal didn’t want that, not anymore, but she’d be damned if she ever talked about all the reasons why. Reasons like the ones that had been flooding her dreams just before Ben had found her and saved her from whatever nightmareish things had lain ahead. 

She didn’t want to answer Ben’s question, not really. But the disappointment at her skipping class seemed the lesser of the evils, and Mal wasn’t feeling particularly inclined towards any more evil today. “Skipped class,” she shrugged, wiping cold sweat off of her forehead with the back of her palm. Her heart was still racing from her dream, or maybe from the fear that she’d hurt Ben, but she willed it to slow back down to a normal pace, breathing deeply as she continued, “I just wasn’t in the mood to pretend the lumpy shapes in the crystal ball were lizards today, okay? What are you doing down here?” she countered, turning the conversation around on him.

Text not meant for @gryffinben !!

“Freddie!” Ben greeted excitedly, stopping where he was in the halls in an instant. He didn’t get as much face-time with Freddie Facilier as he’d have liked to, but then again, he couldn’t blame her. Not all of the Isle-born kids were comfortable around him, as much as he wished they’d be. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, though, he nodded and listened as she spoke, chuckling by the end. “That’s nearly true. Nearly Headless Nick is unfortunately just a smidge not headless enough for their standards. The Headless Hunt likes to play things like bowling and juggling and polo with their severed heads, and that’s hard to do with his head still technically attached to his body. I feel like hobbies are slim to none in the afterlife though so I can’t particularly fault them for making the best of a bad situation. Of course, there’s always regular bowling or juggling or polo that we can do while we’re alive. Or is the headlessness part of the fun?”

Freddie raised two fingers to smooth out her eyebrow, using the motion to stop herself from rolling her eyes at Benny Boy. She regretted deciding to talk to him almost immediately; it was like talking to an encyclopedia, only slamming him shut was actually rude. “Uh huh... Sucks to suck then, I guess,” Freddie said, wondering if anything could get his head off the rest of the way or if that would have had to have been done while he was still solid. She didn’t dare ask it out loud, though; badness knew how long-winded of an answer Ben would have with that. “The headlessness is definitely the fun, though. Think the Room of Requirement would make me a bowling alley where my balls are shrunken heads, or is stuff that cool against the magical rule?”

Worried text for @gryffinben !!