Not a Couple

As Headmistress Amanda Waller entered her office and demanded where Raven was, he realized that he couldn't give her a straight answer. "Well then, Mr. Wayne," she said to him, hands on her hips. "you'd better go find her."

Knowing that it wasn't wise to mess with Waller, Damian trekked off to find the Ravenclaw. She can't be far, he decided as he walked through the winding corridors. As he did so, he found himself contemplating her words.

Had he really been that much of a jerk? He hadn't thought so for the last four years. All those things she said he did, he vaguely remembered doing them. At the time, however, he didn't think of it as being mean. No, he wasn't the villain her. She was.

Except, of course, last year.

Last year had been the dreaded Yule Ball where everyone fourth year and up was required to attend (though, if someone from the lower years was asked by an upper year, they were allowed to go to). He had received an earful from not only his Head of House, but from hers as well.

"Roth," he hissed to himself, not wanting a repeat of last year. "Where the hell are you?" He suddenly caught sight of a broom closet. "I wonder..." He opened the closet door and there she was. Only, she wasn't crying her eyes out as he expected her to be.

No, she was simply indulging herself in Hogwarts: A History again.

Raven looked up at him before her eyes narrowed in annoyance. "What did I just tell you?" She raised her wand threateningly.

But Damian was prepared for that. "Expelliarmus." He caught her disarmed wand in his left hand.

Raven grit her teeth in annoyance. "What do you want?" she seethed. "Haven't irritated me enough for the day, have you?"

He bit his tongue to stop himself from snapping back. "Waller wants us both in her office."

Rolling her eyes, she snapped her book shut and stood up before tilting her head to the side. Instantly, her wand jerked out of his hand and back into hers. "Whatever." They both walked in silence back to the headmistress' office, her not wanting to talk to him and he afraid (not that he would admit it) to strike up conversation.

Waller was waiting for them, her hands on her hips. "Well, nice of you to join us, Miss Roth."

Raven winced. If there was one thing that they had in common, it was that they both hated the headmistress with a passion. "Headmistress," she greeted passively. "I apologize for my absence, but I received a letter from my father."

Waller nodded in understanding. Everyone knew of her father Trigon Roth, a very wealthy Pureblood wizard who most were afraid of. Along with his money, Trigon had various connections (some of which were questionable) throughout the Wizarding World and was a particularly powerful wizard.

And then there was Raven. His bastard, Halfblood daughter he conceived during a one-night stand with a Muggle. Of course, there were many whisperers about her throughout the halls, but she chose to ignore them.

"Either way," continued Waller. "Professor Wayne tells me that the two of you were engaged in a fight."

"It wasn't a fight, per say, Headmistress," corrected Damian. "More of a disagreement."

Raven nodded in agreement. "Yes, a disagreement."

Waller regarded them. "I'll let the two of you off the hook," she decided. "Only because you're out top students and never get into trouble."

Damian sighed in relief. "Thank you, Headmistress." Without sparing each other a glance, he and Raven retreated to their separate Houses.

OoOoOo

Damian found his younger half-sister waiting up for him, curled up in one of the chairs. "What are you still doing up, brat?" he asked, though there was an underlying tone of tenderness to his voice.

Fourth year Celeste Wayne rolled her eyes. "It's only eight thirty," she pointed out. "and I was waiting for you, dummy."

"Why?"

His sister suddenly looked embarrassed. "Well... I have an 'arrangement' on Friday and I need you to cover for me. If Daddy finds out, he'll ground me for the next ten years."

Damian glared at her, suspicion creeping up his neck. "What's the arrangement?" he demanded.

Celeste's face was red. "A date," she mumbled.

"A date," repeated Damian, irritation dripping from his voice. "With who?" It better not be who he thought it was. He swore he'd tear that kid apart. He should have done so last year when he had the gall to ask his sister to the Yule Ball.

"Rex Stewart."

Damian threw his hands up. "Are you kidding me, Celeste? That Gryffindor?" Rex Stewart was a loudmouthed, Muggle-Born Gryffindor in his year that had taken her to the Yule Ball last year. She had assured him that Stewart was only doing her a favor since she had been a year under the age requirement. He knew it was a bad idea.

She shrugged at him. "I like him," she admitted. "I know you don't, but he's my friend. Besides, I don't judge your girlfriend."

He cocked an eyebrow, having no idea who she was talking about. "Who's my girlfriend?"

"Raven Roth."

Damian glared at her. "You think you're comical, don't you?"

Celeste smirked at him. "Very much so, brother. You should hear the gossip, practically every House is talking about you two."

"Yeah, well, they can keep talking."

"So, will you cover for me or not?" asked Celeste.

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

Celeste grinned and kissed his cheek. "Thanks, bro."

Damian wiped at his face. "Disgusting." He spread himself across the couch.

Celeste grinned at him before her face turned more serious. "You know, you should be nicer to Raven," she told him. "She doesn't have it easy."

Damian sneered at her. "Please, she's just some bookworm brat." Or, that's what he kept trying to tell himself.

Celeste was quiet before speaking again, "She's like us."

Damian sat up and glared. "She is nothing like us," he snapped.

His sister shook her head before retreating to the girls' dorms. "Whatever you say, bro," she called over her shoulder.

Damian was left alone, thinking over his sister's words. Was he being too harsh on Raven? It wasn't like he was trying to be, she was just such an easy target. And what did Celeste mean about her being like them?

Shaking his head, Damian decided to head to bed, trying to rid his thought of the amethyst-eyed girl.