For too damn long, Corey had been making his appearance in Diagon Alley, surrounded by the peppiness of society as if their only main concern was if those robes made them looking fat (which yes, they clearly did…they were bloody robes, fully intended on making any bint look less than pleasant) or if they should buy the blue or the black ink for their damn quills. It was irritating having to pretend to care so much about the pettiness, but Corey maintained his deceptive nature in doing so. He had come across some of his teammates, housemates, and other housemates, pretending to care about any of them when in reality, Corey just wanted to hex them into oblivion for the hell of it. He hadn’t seen Trey all that much throughout the summer, except for when they were planning out the upcoming year. This was their final year and the wizarding world was on the brink of a war. It didn’t matter how long it would take, but they would be ready when the war broke out. For now, they would work on conning people to join their side, the poor, defenseless vermin of society. Students, as they had been taught by Brant, were where the power of this war lied. They were thought to have no voice, to have no idea what was really going on in society. Corey supposed that was partially true as many of the idiots he came across were as daft as a stick. This didn’t matter though, as they were supposed to just plant seeds of doubt against the Ministry and their doings. This meant that Corey had to keep up his bloody front and act like the mudbloods and the wayward actual witches and wizards didn’t sicken him with their ideals.

Today was certainly his lucky day as he received a wonderful opportunity. Hearing the whispers of the dark community, he knew that there was a mudblood student that came this way and that they would be around. It made absolutely no sense to the snake why any mudblood would venture around this area when they were so very despised. Just because most of the people in this area behaved themselves with the intruding company that was always watching, didn’t mean that they all did. Bringing a mudblood around people that were getting punished for their treatment of the said mudbloods was like laying raw meat in front of a dog and expecting them to stay perfectly calm. Instead of needing to continue his work outside of the Alley, his work came to him. His goal was to make his way towards the camp to see who it was that braved this trip an plan on ‘befriending’ the said person for his own gain. It was undetermined what the person thought about the Ministry’s plans, but if they were around here trying to make bloody amends, he would bet that they didn’t see exactly eye to eye with the man pulling the strings. Whoever it was that was around here was a bloody fool, but a fool that he could potentially utilize. What better cover for him than to befriend a mudblood that felt bad for his community?

Corey was just entering the camp following a pat-down from one of the guards. This trip better have been worth it, he thought to himself, as he had to leave his bloody wand with the damn guards. There was no real protection on entering the camp as they would rather anyone they deemed trash to come around, but getting out was the slightly irritating part. Nodding to a few of the men that he passed, he slowly made his way through the camp, his eyes peeled for a face that didn’t belong. He had to act like he was bloody worried about whoever it was that had come out here; at least, he thought he had until his eyes landed on the individual causing the rumors. A short laugh escaped him in amusement as he carelessly made his way towards the unfortunately familiar face. “Hey princess, seems you’re a bit far from mummy and daddy, yeah?” he asked, leaning against the wall next to her. The girl had been a bloody wench since he met her, someone that he didn’t have to pretend to like as he hadn’t liked her from their first meeting. Of course, their first meeting was back when he was a second year and stupid, unaware of the consequences of allowing others know how he truly felt towards them. He should have known it was her that would find it wise to come in this area, putting on some front for whatever reason it was she tried to claim.


@celestina

The work camp always shocked Johanna beyond reason. She remembered how it had looked when her and her parents first stumbled inside by accident - a helvitis Chinese marketplace. It hadn't changed much since then. Joey didn't really understand it then, but now it made perfect sense when her father had said, 'It looks like Kenya in the middle of Norway.' The rest of Wizarding England was the perfect and pristine picture of equality, but once you entered the work camp, it was like a whole other country.

Johanna knew, of course, that the Knockturn Alley work camp was a danger zone for Muggleborns, but her parents were socialists in every sense of the word. From the moment that they had laid eyes on the place, she could tell by their glazed over faces that they were just about ready to drop everything and start some kind of crazy mission trip. What else would you expect from an emergency doctor and a social worker? Johanna didn't exactly mind this, of course. She was every bit like them - sympathetic do-gooder to the bone. All she knew about Voldy-what's-his-name and his followers was what she learned in school. They were pretty horrible people, sure, and they persecuted her kind, but they had all either died or served their time. It was like her mum said: even ex-convicts need to eat. Thus started her weekly trips to hand out food and offer free help to the older wizards and witches with their booths. Besides, in her opinion, only mistreated and misunderstood people had tendencies to rebel.

And anyways, Johanna was fairly good at blending in. She always kept her hair a dark brunette in the summer, simply to not attract attention. Her blonde hair was much too light - although one time she had gotten mistaken for a Malfoy, which worked in her favour - and the colours she usually added attracted unwanted attention. Brown was average. Brown was inconspicuous. And she always kept a beanie or hood on. Moreover, no one in the work camp had wands, and if there was one thing that Muggles were good at, it was fistfights. Just let them try taking me down, Joey thought to herself.

She had just given a cupcake to some little kid and finished teaching him the concept of a "high ten" when she heard the irritatingly familiar voice coming from behind her. Joey couldn't help but cringe. She had managed to get by without recognition for the last six years - why bloody now, and why bloody him?

Johanna turned to face Corey with a forced smile. If anyone was her enemy, it was him - and enemy was not a word she used loosely, but the guy just rubbed her the wrong way. Figuratively, of course. "I'm not in the mood for your irritating quips, Fischer," Joey started. She noted that her Icelandic accent was thicker than usual, and that usually only happened when she was scared or angry. Joey figured it was a bit of both in that moment. Corey was rather unpredictable. "I'll just go about my business and you go about yours. Besides, are you really so ruthlessly arrogant that you'll start a fight with a good Samaritan? Not a very wise move, and I hear you Slytherins know your way around people."

There. That should do it. Mildly wounded ego, but not so much so that he would hunt her down and kill her in her sleep. Hopefully.

Johanna Arisdottir, royal pain in his arse. From day one, he hated her as she was just like every other filthy mudblood. People like her didn’t deserve magic, a flaw in the design as others thought they did. His life would be much easier if she hadn’t really known that he despised everything about her kind. It was too late to correct, but he would have fun pestering her life until they both left school. A girl like her didn’t belong in a place like this, even if she did have good intentions. Besides, this place was filled enough as it were that they didn’t need to be breathing the same air that an additional mudblood in the area took. The bint could help all she wanted, but in the grand scheme of things, they were not making a better name for themselves. The wench could give them food or do whatever she thought was necessary, but the reality was that it didn’t change their thoughts on her. She was still filth that didn’t belong. There was good dirt and there was bad dirt, both falling under the category of bloody dirt. But if a person didn’t want fucking dirt to begin with, it didn’t bloody matter if it was good or bad dirt. This was all just a joke that they would allow merely because they had no other choice.

Apparently, she was the type to think they needed saving. They would rather fucking hang themselves than to accept people saving them when they never belonged in this world to begin with. They would have never ‘needed’ saving if it weren’t for their kind to begin with, really. After all of the shit that the people in this Alley had been given, there was no way a kid with a basket full of goodies was going to change their mind. Honestly, she had a bloody death wish if she was bothering this area, especially by her bloody self. Bints, Corey thought to himself, nearly rolling his eyes. This one was clearly not the brightest in the bunch. Maybe the dark hair was making her forget who she was and what she meant to people in this area. Now, she was in his arena, not protected by the walls of the castle, surrounded by the arrogant professors that the school seemed to employ.

His eyebrow was quirked as he looked her over, unashamed. It wasn’t like she wasn’t bloody attractive, even with that obnoxious mouth of hers. “Sweetheart, you’re in the wrong place if you aren’t in the mood for irritating quips,” he grinned at the girl. “This is my business. You’re in our home, our land. Starting a fight? Babe, I was merely making an observation. Forgive me for not expecting a…good Samaritan…like yourself to be around here. Can’t a friend be concerned about a friend? You wound me so,” he continued, smirking darkly at her. “And I hear you Gryffindors like to piss in someone else’s park,” Corey replied, shrugging. Well, this wasn’t exactly the person he had been hoping to see, but at least he didn’t have to put up a front and pretend to give a shit as clearly that wouldn’t work with someone as stuck up as she was…like every other mudblood.

It took all of Johanna's strength to swallow her pride and not go into a bout of sputtering and shouting. Johanna was not good at being angry - her thoughts would get all hazy and scattered and it really hurt her sarcastic side. She took a deep breath to calm herself and tried to ignore when Corey's eyes wandered a little too much. For someone that was so hell-bent against Muggle-borns, he sure as hell liked to look at them. If there was one thing that was on Johanna's side in this scenario, though, it was that she was not as easily distracted by people's looks as Corey clearly was. Pansexuality seemed to be a big help when it came to arseholes like Fischer, since Johanna judged him by his personality. And his personality was ugly. All she had ever tried to do when it came to Corey Fischer was be nice and never assume the worst in him, but he was one of the rare circumstances that constantly proved Johanna's do-gooder side dead wrong.

Johanna flipped her hair over her shoulder and let out a huff. "Well, excuse me for assuming that the high-and-mighty Corey Fischer wasn't looking for a fight," she started in the most sarcastic tone she could muster. Joey made her eyes exaggeratedly wide just to be more annoying. Honestly, if he hated her so much, why would he bother talking to her? "I nearly forgot that you spent the last six years being my soul sister. My bad, gella." Johanna couldn't help the slight smirk at the thought of Corey probably not having the slightest idea that she had just called him a chick.

No wonder everyone keeps their distance, Johanna mused to herself. If everyone in there was just as unwelcoming to others as he was, just as ingrained in the old ways... well, it wasn't the least bit surprising that people had a thing or two against purebloods. But that wasn't Joey's way of doing things. She had never even been around for the big war, or the aftermath. She couldn't just judge everyone in that camp on the basis of rumours. "You know, Corey dear, you should really get out of the habit of lumping people together," Johanna advised with an added tsk-tsk, just to sound extra condescending. "I can't change what I am, even if you hate me for it, but you sure as hell can't blame me for this mess," she paused and gestured around the camp. She met his eyes before continuing, "This wasn't me, vinur. I was tucked away on another island when this happened. I'm not here on the pretence of making amends, because I have none to make. Believe it or not, I'm just selfless like that."

Johanna straightened out her back a bit and, as an afterthought, added, "Oh, and sorry to inform you of this, Fischer, but I'm a lady - I piss in perfectly clean toilets." She pursed her lips in thought, then smirked a little mischievously. "Preferably ones that flush," Joey said with a wink.

It wasn’t that he hated Johanna, or Joey…whatever name she wanted to go by. It made no sense to him why she would want to go by a bloody bloke’s name, but it was of no concern to him. He remembered meeting her for the first time and how he thought she was cute. He was a second year, of course he thought any girl around was bloody cute. Then he found out her status, which was clearly not going to work. After years of being trained that mudbloods were not to be welcomed to magic, it only made sense to him that he had to treat her as such. She was the kind of person he was supposed to hate, and now he fully understood why. Mudbloods didn’t have the proper magic that a pureblood would. It irritated Corey that he was only halfblood as someone in his family clearly was misled. Throughout the years, it wasn’t as if Corey purposefully went out of his way to make her life miserable but if they happened upon each other, he wasn’t going to deny an opportunity. It was especially amusing to him to see just how far he could push before she pushed back. Now that the summer was here, and he was killing time, he would have plenty of time to push her. If she didn’t bloody like it, she was free to leave her pity work and this Alley to its own doings.

“High and mighty? It’s about time you understand,” he grinned good-naturedly. “I never look for a fight; just looking for a conversation with the good soul that has dropped by here to do her good deed of the day,” he shrugged. “Bit disappointed to see that it was you, but you’ll do.” It was really amusing to Corey that the other students at the school didn’t see this side of him, actually thinking that he gave a shit about them. The other relationships he ruined when he was a daft first and second year, he already amended, but this one was simply too much fun to give up. He gave her a look at her statement, rolling his eyes. “If I were born into a life where I had to be your ‘soul sister’, I would have bloody offed myself by now,” he replied, raising his eyebrows briefly.

A smirk grew on his features as he moved closer to her, letting his height tower over her. “You know, soul sister to soul sister, it really isn’t wise to piss off a dog held by a leash. One day, that leash will be gone,” he stated lowly, the wicked smirk not leaving his features until he pushed back to his original position. “Do you believe everyone is responsible for their own actions, angel?” he asked her after her rant, not looking at her but looking around briefly. “Ignorance to a situation makes a person just as much at fault as the person committing the act. And you know, the only people I’ve ever heard claim that they were selfless, were actually the most selfish,” Corey said to her, looking back at her. “It’s kind of like when a humble person says that they are humble…so, are you here so you can check it off in your little book that you’ve done your good deed for the day and now can sleep at night?” he continued. “And if you want to speak Icelandic so much, go back to fucking Iceland,” the Slytherin added, irritated at the use of the terms he wasn’t familiar with.

“A lady?” he asked, his voice rising to show his surprise. “My, my, you do think quite highly of yourself, don’t you love? Mummy teach you to think positive thoughts until you can believe that they’re actually true?”

Most times, Johanna was one hundred percent convinced that it paid off to be nice. Most times, she strongly believed that the Golden Rule was sound advice, and she would stand by it without falter. Other times, Joey felt herself questioning whether she was right. That particular moment, as she ground her teeth to keep herself from yelling obscenities at Corey and at least give him the chance to talk (as if he deserved it), was one of those "other times" in which Johanna began to doubt herself. And she hated that one person could make her doubt herself for even a mere moment, especially when that person hated her for such a stupid reason. Her blood? Wasn't that just as bad as racism? England easily convinced Johanna that most wizards were still stuck in the Dark Ages - no wonder they had so many damn wars.

"Glad to see that my sarcasm isn't lost on you," Johanna muttered. She couldn't help but agree with Corey on one thing, though - having to be soul sisters with him would have been a devastating mess, and she would've surely sought a quick, painless death. Hell, even a slow and painful one would have been better. As much as Johanna prided herself in managing to make most people smile her way, Corey was a tough nut to crack. Literally and figuratively. He was a nut - like, absolutely nutters - and Johanna could hardly recall him ever expressing a genuine smile. At least not her way. "I never placed you as the kind of person to compare themselves to an animal, but I'm glad we're finally seeing eye to eye on something."

Johanna could not help the look of indignation that clouded her face. Ignorance? How could he be so - so - self-absorbed! She furrowed her brow and crossed her arms in her moment of anger. "Hm, good point, Fischer," Joey started sarcastically. "I'm sure that my eight year-old Icelandic self could have done a hell of a lot to fix this mess." Honestly, did he even hear the words leaving his mouth? Of course people were responsible for their own actions! It's not like she blamed him for Voldemort - that wouldn't even make any sense.

Unfortunately, Johanna's indignation quickly turned into a borderline conniption. The fact that Corey Fischer of all people was calling her out for being selfish and for simply using the work camp as an excuse to make herself feel better was downright offending. "Oh, you know what, you are absolutely right!" she exclaimed. "I've been endangering my life for the last six years by coming here and dying my hair this horrendously boring colour because I just love myself so bloody much," she snapped sarcastically. "Good deed for the day? What a great joke." She doubted that Corey would know what a commitment was even if it slapped him in the face.

Before she could yell out any more things - and before the conversation took a turn for the obscene - Johanna took a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself. Corey was just a sad, mistreated bloke, and she would have to hope that his annoying attitude had more to do with his problems than just her. At the very least, Joey calmed down enough to avoid pointing out to the Slytherin that knowing another language allowed her to say whatever the hell she wanted and leave him no good way to fight back - kind of like using magic on a defensless Muggle. She also bit her tongue to avoid the increasingly popular psychological quote - 'Fake it 'til you become it.'

At long last, once Johanna was certain that she could keep her voice down and her thoughts clear, she looked up to meet Corey's eyes. "Does it really baffle you so much that one of my kind is on your side?" she asked quietly. Joey felt prophylactically offended in case the answer was 'yes,' and she hoped it showed through her tone. "Because, trust me, hon - I know where I stand, and none of your pushing can scare me away."

Corey’s first memory was from when he was five, or six, and he was in the streets of Diagon Alley with his uncle Luis, off to pick up some…something or other. Corey had run ahead to check out the newest broom model that was brightly displayed in the windows, other children surrounding it eagerly as well. When he turned to find his uncle to beg him to buy him the sweet broom, his eyes didn’t reach where the man had gone. Corey remembered walking to the first corner before he saw his uncle down an alley, getting beaten by two blokes, his earnings being taken as they shouted obscenities at him for doing something wrong. Corey didn’t know what they were talking about, but he would never forget the situation, his curiosity growing each passing moment about what was going on around him. It was that specific moment in time that caused the young child to pause, his mind yearning for the answers behind why his uncle, the man that took him in after his parents died, was being punished. At age of eight, Corey had gone to the camp with his uncle as he couldn’t be left alone at the moment. While there, Corey saw as one of those being imprisoned, so everyone termed it, was fighting back, wanting to leave. This led to a fight, causing the bloke to perish in front of Corey allowing Corey to realize that the troubles his uncle had warned him about were occurring. The world was turning against his people and young Corey needed to learn and study magic so that one day, he could help rebel against the Ministry and take back what was rightfully theirs.

Throughout his years in the Alley, he has seen tortures far beyond what the average student could claim to have seen. Slowly, his innocent childhood was tarnished by the horrors, calloused by his daily surroundings. He was brought up in a world where it didn’t matter what good he did, though he never really tried; all that mattered was the fact that he was born to death eater parents and born in a poor neighborhood, making him seen as someone that was clearly born to be a miscreant. Never once did Corey regret where he grew up, he only regretted that he was too young to fight the war that he wanted to join. With each act that he witnessed, his anger grew, but so did his ability to control his emotions in order to become the person everyone wanted him to be. His mind sought to find the ways to trick those around him, utilizing it for his own personal agenda. This was, and always has been, his home and when fucking people like Ms. Prissy Arisdottir came about here with her false ‘good Samaritan’ shit, it pissed him off. If they weren’t going to fucking change the situation at hand, then they could fucking get out of their way. Clearly, the treatment was only getting worse so even if she wanted to stand there thinking she was innocent in all of this, she was fucking wrong.

He shrugged at her response, smirking. “Yes, well, sometimes I have to dumb shit down for a bitch; figured you’d understand the correlation,” Corey stated easily. He watched her face carefully, amused by what he saw. He was thoroughly enjoying the fact that he could still get to her, finding this to be quite the entertaining day, even if he had to be in the presence of such filth. “And while your eight year-old Icelandic self was playing princess outdoors, what were your parents doing? Too busy fucking each other to do something? Then again, I can’t imagine why your father would want to fuck your mum too much, probably nice and used by then. What, do you think your parents are innocent? Are they ‘good Samaritans’ like you, angel? Or are they trying to correct their wrong by sending their precious angel here, hoping that they would only be so lucky that she was graciously taken care of, taken off of their hands?” he asked, quirking an amused eyebrow at the girl.

“It’s funny, really. Here I thought you were a lady, and instead, you’re using sarcasm. It doesn’t really suit you well, babe,” Corey grinned before giving her a look. “Ah, so this is about your hating yourself, then? Depressed? Lonely? Unwanted? Realizing that I’m right? So come on, it’s just me and you here. Why are you really here? Broken heart? Nah, you don’t seem that type,” he mused, as if trying to guess. “Ah, cat died? Broke a nail? Found a pimple? Tell me, what kind of problems does a little miss good Samaritan have?” he asked, his amusement growing by the moment.

Corey let out a snort of amusement, chuckling heartedly. “Giving a bit of food here or there doesn’t mean you’re on our side. You see these walls? Every year, they grow a bit more, and the chains grow a bit tighter. If this is what it means having ‘your kind’ on our side, then by next year, we really WILL all be in fucking leashes,” he pointed out.

One of the first things that Johanna had realized upon moving to London was that she did not have the most conventional parents, nor had she had the most conventional childhood. The thing about growing up in Iceland was that everyone you knew was as good as family. People didn't call you by your last name because they had a strained relationship with you - that was simply how they knew you. So-and-so's daughter or so-and-so's son. If you were born there, it wasn't too hard to belong. It wasn't too hard to find your niche and stick with it. For Johanna's parents, that niche had been selflessness. They were the people that everyone would go to if they needed a place to crash, or a warm plate of food, or even just to pour their heart out over a cup of coffee. Joey had grown up with the idea that the only way she could belong was by caring for others.

Unfortunately, that was easier said than done in Wizarding England. There seemed to be a sense of pride amongst the persecuted that made it irritatingly difficult for Johanna to stick by her resolve. She had always assumed that it was just the people in London that were like this - stupidly stubborn to accept help. However, when Johanna had confessed this to her parents one early morning - while her mother was stitching up her father's cheek in their living room due to a mugging - they had said that it was never going to be easy to be selfless, no matter where she was or who she was with. It turned out that for all of the welcoming and loving that Icelanders seemed to project, there would always be people and people. And thanks to those wise words of her parents, it became just a little easier for Joey to endure the pain that came with trying to help the likes of the people in Knockturn Alley.

It was also for that exact reason that Corey's words stung like salt in a wound and inflamed a feeling in Johanna that she rarely felt - white-hot anger. It was that precise feeling that caused her fingers to twitch and, before she knew it, her hand had reached up and slapped Corey right in the face. Somehow, her anger overpowered her shock at what she had just done, and the words poured out of her like an avalanche. "Don't you dare talk about my parents, you complete arse. The thing about being from a muggle family is that I have to deal with muggle problems, and I doubt that your puny brain can even begin to comprehend those! So don't you dare act like I don't get how it is to suffer." She pressed her lips together to keep from outright screaming. Just because he didn't have his bloody parents gave him no right to be so rude about hers.

Johanna clenched her hands into fists, her fingernails digging into the skin of her palms. "My problems?" she asked with a scoff. Joey couldn't believe the nerve he had to say the things he was saying when it was his ridiculous attitude that was the whole reason he was such a bloody pariah. "You know something, Fischer? You're a sad bloke, really, and I feel sorry for you. I mean, I'm not sure if being rude to people is the only way you can wank off - if it is, you should really get that checked - but the simple fact that you feel the need to stomp on others to make yourself feel better is just pathetic."

"You fight your bloody fight, but while you're prowling for revenge, people are starving and families are living from day to day. Are you so blinded by your own selfishness that you can't even bring yourself to care about the little things?" Johanna didn't understand how he could care so little about the simple well-being of people. Sure, maybe he could put up a fight, but there were children in that camp, and seniors. Did he bloody expect them to give it their all when the time for another stupid war finally came? Sure, maybe food and labour wasn't going to win them what they rightfully deserved, but it was going to keep them alive long enough to see the day that that would happen. Johanna wasn't a fighter, and she was fine with that. She cared for people, and if Corey couldn't understand the importance of giving people a reason to smile, then he was just a self-centred prick. As if that was news. "If all you want to do is spill blood for your damn cause, you're not just sacrificing your life - your sacrificing everyone's life. If you all end up in leashes, it's not because of me - that's going to be on you and your fucking thirst for revenge."

Even with all of the bints that Corey had snagged to shag, he had to admit that this was incredibly entertaining. For a while, he had heard about a bint or two coming in this area to do some good shit, something that people begrudgingly discussed. They weren’t a fucking charity case, pets to be fed whenever someone else decided it was their time to find their nutritional assistance. They weren’t so stupid to think that people would actually want to help those that wanted them dead and wouldn’t so much as hesitate the moment a guard wasn’t on their ready. With as much time that they had to think and to plan, Corey liked to believe they could manage to do damage without getting caught, especially with mudbloods like this one. Magic was being tossed around as if it were a fucking bint with her legs opened, ready for any available good fuck. Though, he supposed he couldn’t complain too much about the pathetic slag risking her pretty neck for the wolves. At least here, surrounded by his likeminded people, he didn’t have to pretend that he gave a shit about her or any other shit going on around them. Of course, when it came to being back at school, he would smile and agree, making people feel as if he were on their damn side, a poor bloke handed the wrong cards when it came to his family life. One person knowing his not-so-pleasant side would hardly do damage to his reputation when other than her, not one bint went displeased.

He nodded in greeting as an older bloke passed by, shaking his hand briefly before turning his attention back to the poor excuse for a witch. His words were getting to her, that much he could tell as he continued. It would only be a matter of time before he struck the chord that would make her lose it. If she really was confident in who she was and in who her parents were, there was no way in fucking hell that she would get offended. As he continued, he wanted her to realize she really was just an insecure bint that didn’t even know her place in this world and if she did, didn’t know how to properly stand by it. Corey saw her hand moving, the smirk growing on his features as he allowed her to slap him, pondering just how much anger he was making her feel. He felt the sting in his cheek, though he would guarantee she was realizing that slapping someone wasn’t exactly easy on one’s precious hand. “There’s the true heart of the Gryffindor,” he grinned, letting a chuckle fall from his lips. “Not so much like your pathetic parents, are you? Letting a few words get your knickers in a twist…tsk tsk, not befitting for a good Samaritan, I’m afraid. People might think you care more about your image than you do about people,” he laughed, now merely growing more amused by this conversation than he had been previously. “Muggle problems? Like what? Diseases that your own government probably allows? Even mother nature wants to see your lot destroyed,” he continued carelessly, smiling as if this were a friendly conversation between two good friends. Really, he didn’t fucking care what problems muggles had as that would imply he bloody cared about them in general, which he clearly did not.

“Ah, want to see me wank off sometime? I knew you had a bit of freaky side, love,” Corey smirked, winking at her. “I hardly consider being truthful as stomping on others. Just telling you how it is so you can stop thinking like you’re better than the rest of us,” he shrugged. As if he needed others to feel good about himself. Unlike her, he wasn’t going psychotic at a bit of words tossed around as he was confident in his stance and in who he was, no approval necessary. “I’m supposed to fucking give a shit about families that are starving? For someone that is out here, claiming to try to help, you really have no fucking idea what’s going on around here, do you?” he asked, giving her a look. He knew what it was to starve as that was something he was far too used to by now. “And how do you expect us to feed them? Should we accept the bread from the people that put us in here? It’s probably poisoned to ensure our minds align with theirs. Or shall we fight back so we don’t have to depend on the fucking hands that are itching to watch us die?” he asked her, quirking an eyebrow. Pointing to the cheek that she slapped, he continued. “Think I’m going to trust a bitch that slaps me over a few words? Next, you’ll be hexing me while I’m wandless, for saying your kitty died. Shall I turn my other cheek for you, babe?”

Johanna did not slap people. 'Violent' was not a word in her vocabulary, and she started to feel more and more guilty as her hand kept stinging, a cruel reminder of how he had managed to change her for the worse - even if it was only for a split second. But why should she feel guilty? He was the one that provoked her far beyond reason! She had every right to get angry - Merlin knew that she didn't do it often enough. However, that didn't make the guilt disappear and it took a lot of will power to not apologize on the spot. Why did she have to be so soft? Why couldn't she say or do mean things like everyone else and not feel an ounce of regret? It seemed that getting some thick skin was the only way of surviving the wizarding world - regardless of your blood. But she couldn't do it. Joey would always expect the best from people. It seemed like the only fair thing to do, after all.

Ironically enough, it seemed like Corey Fischer was her exact opposite. It was almost as if he was looking for something wrong in people at every turn, and Johanna didn't understand how someone could be so pessimistic all the damn time. She knew Slytherins could be selfish and conniving, but he was on a whole other level - Corey didn't even have a bloody heart, as far as Johanna was concerned. It baffled her how easily he could spout obscenities and insults. Had he ever tried putting himself in someone else's shoes? Had he always been so narrow-minded and self-centred? Joey struggled to believe that anyone could be so vicious from birth. When it came to the battle between nature and nurture, she had always thought that nurture won out. It just so happened that her and Corey were the perfect evidence of that.

He wound her up, that was certain. Joey hated feeling all of this anger, and she hated having to fight back - but she was too proud to not stand up for herself. "News flash, Fischer: I'm not you, and thank Merlin for that," Johanna snapped. "I've never thought I was better than anyone, and I sure as hell don't do things and expect something in return." Was he so blinded by hatred that he couldn't tell apart those that meant well and those that meant harm? It must be horrible, Johanna thought, to have your mind clouded by so much malice. She always found it harder to think straight when she got tunnel vision, but it seemed that Corey was having engine trouble in the bloody Channel Tunnel. "And for the love of any damn god that is listening, stop acting like I had anything to do with you being in here!" she exclaimed. "Why can't you get it through your thick head that if I had any say over this, it would have never happened? Do you see the bloody Minister in here feeding you, or me - a girl that's done nothing but try to show you kindness no matter how many times you keep pushing? For a Slytherin, you sure are horrible at differentiating between your enemies and your allies. Here I thought you were supposed to be cunning, or something!"

Johanna had had enough. She was certain that he clearly had no concept of 'crossing the line,' since he seemed to do it all of the damn time. If he couldn't put himself in someone else's shoes, then she'd force him to do so. He had to hold someone close to his heart - no matter how small it was. "A few words? Leave it to you to be so ignorant of the power of words," she said with a scoff. "I'd like to see how you'd react when someone starts talking shit about the people that sacrificed everything to raise you," Joey said challenging. She crossed her arms and tried her best to stare him down, but knowing her, she probably wasn't doing a great job. However, she didn't really care. At least she was trying, and he would have to see that despite however much weakness she had in the work camp, Joey would never back down. Was that foolish? Maybe, but Johanna took comfort in who she was, and a poor excuse for a human like Corey Fischer would never change that. "You said it yourself - I have no idea what's going on around here. So how would it bloody feel if I just started to slander the person that's selflessly kept you alive despite it all? Despite all of these things that I will never understand? That's how it feels to hear what you said to me. Think before you bloody speak, arsehole. Maybe you'd have less enemies that way."