Jester's Privilege | t.r

1 | How It All Began

Well, Fawn knew one thing. If Selwyn and Lestrange were anything to go by, the fight was most definitely about a girl. She still remembered the infamous events of last year during the Yule Ball. Vincent Lestrange had been complaining about a breakup, only to figure out who had caused it as they walked out arm and arm on the night of the ball: Edmund Selwyn.

It's no surprise that Fawn knew the details, her family-friend used her as a free therapist, after all. She and Terence never understood how on earth the two got along as well as they did, though the shared love for girls must've been a factor. Fawn exited her daydream and turned to Anthony, who'd been patiently waiting for her to bulldoze through the rest of what had caused her bad mood.

"Right. Principal Dippet asked if I'd be available as a tutor for a student starting next week, Fridays after school." A frown left Anthony's face before Fawn could detect it.

"That's when I have quidditch practice, though." Fawn's mouth creased in a line. It wasn't like she had a choice. When Mr. Dippet asked something of you, you'd best see that it gets done. Especially when it's a favour requested by even the teacher themselves.

Fawn had never missed Anthony's quidditch game once since they'd become buddies. Even the practices became a staple hang-out activity after school. Anthony would play, while Fawn studied in the stands. The spot easily became a designated area to spend time together on a busy schedule. Fitting, as that's how they met.

First year, four years ago, the library was packed with other curious first years and had proven impossible to focus in, and Little Fawn made a mission of it to find the best place for peace and quiet. The stands on the quidditch field welcomed her with open arms, just as Fawn did with the ball that came shooting towards her before she had known what had hit her. A second year Hufflepuff had flown over, shouting every apology he could muster with his shortness of breath.

"That's what every other day of the week is for. You've quidditch practice everyday, Ann. Try not to miss me too much." Anthony shoved an elbow of an acceptance into Fawn's rib.

"Your loss. Who's the person you'll be tutoring? A first year?" Just like that, Fawn's mood turned sour again. She sighed and hunched her shoulders, internally groaning. Mr. Dippet asked that she talk with the boy before lessons started. She assumed that meant as soon as possible.

Fawn apprehensively stood up. She didn't have time to think about embarrassing her family friend right now. Confusion etched on her friend's face as she sauntered apprehensively, intense mumbles of irritated gibberish escaping her mouth the whole journey to the slytherin table.

There was a reason she was in Slytherin and not Gryffindor. Not two steps in, Fawn snapped back around and pulled Anthony up with her. "Where are we going?"

"To introduce ourselves to who I've been asked to tutor." Terence caught Fawn's eye, his own widening at her fast beeline towards their group. The tenacious girl hated the company he kept, and whatever reason it was that brought Fawn to their table sent a shiver down Terence's spine.

"Reyes! What a pleasant surprise," Selwyn ignored the barks of the opposing Lestrange, obviously eager to grip at any excuse to dissipate the losing argument. "What brings our newly appointed prefect to our table?" His slender eyes shifted to her companion. "And with Hufflepuff's esteemed quidditch prodigy, no less?"

Anthony scanned the array of potential candidates who at this table would be the lucky fellow to feel Fawn's wrath. "Where's your..." Fawn realised she didn't know how to refer to the boy's status among his lackeys. "Your... leader? Boss?"

Avery stood, evening his gaze with hers. "Tom? What makes you curious as to his whereabouts?" Fawn frowned at the sweat on his brow. He probably thought she was trying to start something. Which, to be fair, she kind of was.

She lightheartedly scoffed at Terence's obvious dismay. "Calm yourself. He's to be my new apprentice." His eyes widened further— a hard task as they'd already been gargantuan at her arrival. She felt Anthony stagger next to her.

The six boys reacted curiously. Lestrange was now distracted from his previous problem, and Edmund whistled, entertained. "Hear that, Vincent?"

Lestrange rolled his eyes. "I can hear just fine, actually." Edmund gave a look of sassy disbelief.

"Not when it's me talking, you can't." A ball of sleek, fair hair snickered next to Selwyn. His blonde locks were almost as shiny as the silver rings adorned on his hands, and he made no effort to acknowledge Fawn's presence. She didn't remember his name, or the other two for that matter. Avery had always been closest with the ginger boy and black-haired lad, subjecting Fawn to hours of venting about their countless fights, just to make up the next day. Avery treated them like he was their mother.

At either side of the black-haired ball of dissipating anger, two brunette's varied in character. On Lestrange's left sat a youthful-looking boy, though she knew him to be the same age as the rest of his group. And to his right, a bubbly individual with impeccable posture sat with a wide smile. 

"Isn't this exciting." The boy at Vincent's right spoke, eye contact intense and carefree. "Ms. Reyes, isn't it?"

"Fawn." He nodded. Fawn got a good look at the boy's face, and glanced at Anthony, who was already staring at her. He was one of Slytherin's prestigious quidditch players. Anthony grimaced, flashbacks to his latest beat down between Hufflepuff and Slytherin late last year.

"Clarence. Clarence Rosier." She stifled a contorted face, all but wondering what parent would name their child Clarence. But she sent a pressed smile his way, focusing back to the task at hand.

"Hi." She returned to Terence's orbs. "So, where is he?"

"What are you doing, accosting my side of the table, Reyes?" Fawn whipped her head behind her. Anthony at some point had gotten himself together, standing tall as to guard her from the voice, Fawn following suit.

"There you are, Tom." The boys notably stiffened, albeit slightly. The Riddle boy stuck to intimidating his stance, as if to challenge her audacity. She gladly accepted, ignoring Anthony's cautious gaze and walking to stand in his face.

"How did you become a prefect if your grades stink?" His chin stayed lifted high, unfazed. Fawn couldn't have cared less of the slight physical loss she suffered trying to square up to him. Tom was taller, but what was tall to a tutor? "Principal Dippet has selected me as your tutor starting next week."

A tense moment reverberated through the rest of the group, time stopped and breaths hitched. The corner of Tom's lip tugged upward. "I fear the school admires a good attitude more than you might think, Reyes." Fawn narrowed her glare. To her, that sounded like he'd just milked the tits of the teachers to earn his pretty little spot. She also didn't miss the fact that Tom seemed to hint that she had a personality that needed fixing.

She sent a relaxed, loaded grin his way. "I'll be the one doing the teaching from now on, Riddle."