All Corey wanted to do was to spice up that couple’s love life by making him more attractive as a frog and letting her kiss the frog. It was clearly what girls wanted since they all wanted a bloody prince charmer, or whatever it was called in that blasted muggle fairy tale thing. They were a rather dull couple and he just thought they needed a story in their life besides “they met and fell in love”. Besides, he could have done worse. He could have personally interrupted them and swept her off her feet as he was clearly the more attractive of the pair of blokes, but he decided to have a heart and not torture the bloke that way. She looked too good for him, probably only with him out of her own pity. He nearly snickered to himself at the thought, remembering the look on her face when they were about to kiss and BAM, ribbit. Unfortunately for Corey, he hadn’t accounted for a professor walking up behind him on the balcony, seeing what he had done to the boy. Instead of getting the praise, which he clearly ought to have received, he received a bloody detention. No, not just one bloody detention, a week’s worth as he could have endangered the bloke’s life if he hadn’t been accurate. Of course he was going to be bloody accurate. Professors just seemed to think that everything was so complicated.

So now, here he was, sitting on the wooden floor as he picked at a loose piece of splinter to ease his boredom. He was supposed to be scrubbing the floor without magic, as his wand was taken away, but the bucket of water lay untouched, as well as the cleaning products that he’s never seen before in his life. Well, he supposed he probably saw that at one of his other detentions, but he couldn’t be bothered with remembering petty things like so. He heard the door open and immediately set to look as if he were doing something he was supposed to, before he saw that another student had stepped in. Smirking, he returned to his previous, careless, position. “They get you, too? What are you in for?” he asked, wondering if he could gain any useful information that would benefit him in the future.

Dillon hadn't really thought she was going to end up in detention. Beaxbatons was never so strict about classes, but apparently walking out in the middle of a lesson wasn't the thing to do at Hogwarts. She had tried to tell the professor that she needed to go to the Hospital Wing. What had the professor said? NO. He said no. After Dillon had finally let her conscience get the best of her, swearing that everyone was looking at her, the new girl, she stood and left the class. The professor hadn't been so understanding and gave her a weekend of detention. A whole weekend! Scrubbing floors at this bloody school that she hadn't wanted to leave France for, but no, her mother wanted to come home. 

So now Dillon was running late, literally running through the corridors, wishing she could get to detention quicker so it would be over with. Dillon reported to the Professor, whom told her where she would be working and she set off in that direction. This bloody castle was always getting her lost. She finally found what she thought was the right door and heard someone scramble to their feet. 

The boy had asked her a question. How did she answer? Did she lie. make herself sound cooler or should she ignore him? She didn't recognize him, which meant he probably wasn't in her house. Had she ever seen him in the Great Hall? She couldn't remember. 

"Erm.. I, er.." Dillon stuttered and finally came up with the perfect response. "Cursed at a professor," she blurted. What? That was not what she meant to say. It was too late now. Roll with it, Dillon. Act cool. she told herself. Quickly, Dillon made her way to the bucket of water and cleaning supplies. She grabbed a sponge and dipped it in the water. The water seemed mostly clean, which had hinted that this boy, whoever he was, had not started scrubbing yet. Dillon put the sponge to the floor and started cleaning, hoping to avoid this interaction. She hadn't expected other people to be there. 

Corey quirked an eyebrow at the girl before him. He had heard rumors about a new girl, and had spotted her around, but only because he had been looking. Could he be blamed? He had seen the same bints in school for ages, it seemed, and now, someone new. It was like Christmas came early this year, really, and she wasn’t bad to look at, either. He couldn’t remember her name, though he was certain he had heard it before. It was kind of the professor to stick him in a detention with someone that was nice to look at and he would certainly have to thank the professor later for his unintentional kindness. Perhaps this detention wouldn’t be all that miserable, after all.

She wasn’t sorted into his house, that was for certain. If she had been, he would have made it a point to meet with her much sooner. The best part about someone new like her was the fact that he could be whoever he wanted to be, as she would know no different. “Cursed at the professor,” he repeated, amused by the concept. To him, that was quite the pathetic way of getting detention, though she must have had an overly sensitive professor. “I hope you see that some of the professors are rather sensitive around here. And just why did you curse at the professor?” he asked her, wondering if she would give him some more detail. He hoped that she knew that he was expecting at least some entertainment during this detention and she was the lucky bint that earned a detention with him. “Perhaps you should have cursed them in French…that is a language you know, yeah?”

Dillon hadn't even looked up when the bloke repeated her, but she felt his questions were inevitable. She should have expected them, so she'd finally looked up at him and stopped cleaning the floor.

"Why? I, er... I'm not exactly a people person," Dillon answered quietly. "Erm.. You know I'm from France then? People are talking about it?"

Dillon suddenly felt extremely embarrassed. What else had he heard about her? A bloke like him? Nothing bad, right? "What exactly are people saying about me?" Dillon felt stupid for asking, but she had to know.

Gary pushed the door open confidently, smoothing back his thick hair. He preferred to enter every room with presence, to really let people know Gary T. Summerfield has arrived. Even for detention, he found this necessary.

When he entered the room, he found his audience quickly. He saw that a pretty Ravenclaw girl (she was the new one, right?) was sitting on the floor, in the middle of scrubbing away, while an older Slytherin boy sat idly by, watching. Gary recognized the boy to be Cory Fischer, one of the beaters on the Slytherin team.

Gary clapped his hands together. "So, I see we're well on our way here. I suppose you have that taken care of, then?" He motioned vaguely to the floor, eyes on the girl, and moved to sit comfortably against the wall. He wondered if he'd interrupted - no, judging by the tension in the air, he'd definitely interrupted. Oh well.

Dillon rolled her eyes as the new bloke walked into the room. He had a weird presence to him, but there was something Dillon sensed as cockiness-or was it a sense of humour? Either way, Dillon didn't like the way he slouched against the wall, assuming she would get the work done. The question she had asked would now go unanswered, undoubtedly, because of this interruption.

Who was this guy? And why was he here so late? "Who are you and why are you so late?" Well, he would have to answer now, right? Dillon sighed and turned back to scrubbing the floor. "Don't worry about me, I have it covered." With another rolls of the eyes, Dillon dipped her sponge back into the bucket of water.

Gary grinned. He had hoped she would ask.

"It was really just a misunderstanding," he began. "You see, no where in the Hogwarts rulebook does it say 'no swordfighting in the corridor.' I checked. So imagine my surprise when, in the midst of a rather entertaining duel with the Bloody Baron - very interesting, fighting a ghost, since their sword and your sword don't actually touch - we were so rudely interrupted. Apparently I was causing a safety hazard. Which is bloody ridiculous, since I made sure we set up in front of the hospital wing."

He watched for the girl's reaction, but not before pointing at a particular place on the floor and saying, "You missed a spot."

Dillon's hair turned a bright shade of red and she quickly scrubbed at the spot this kid pointed to. "I don't think I caught your name," Dillon growled under her breath. This bloke was making her dangerously angry. Why did he have such a presence?

Dillon hastily turned to the Slytherin boy, who she was starting to like. "I assume you know him?" She hadn't caught either bloke's name. But at this time, she hadn't really thought she cared. "Please don't let me interrupt your relaxation techniques." Dillon's hair was steadily growing brighter as she tried to calm herself. She told herself not to think about it, but the more she tried not to; she did.

Gary couldn't help it - his jaw dropped. Not many things ruffled Gary or caught him off-guard, but watching this meek (well, could he really call her meek?) girl's hair shift color, he found himself momentarily speechless.

He turned toward Corey, half-expecting to see the bloke's wand out, charming the girl without her notice. When that wasn't the case, Gary tried to catch Corey's eye, wondering if he'd already known she could do that.

"I'm sorry, but do you stare at everyone with your mouth open or is it just me?" Dillon had known her hair was changing, but she couldn't help it. It's not that she wanted to be a freak. She was focusing on scrubbing the floor. She would do anything to avoid wanting to pull her wand on this bloke that thought he could just waltz in and tell her what to do.

"Flys will nest," Dillon mumbled as she felt her wand slip in her pocket and she smirked to herself. It's there if I need it. "It's Dillon, my name. Thanks for asking." she murmured.