Two more bloody months until he was done with this school for the year. Every time he entered the damn castle in September, Finn immediately wondered what had even possessed him to come back. He had a steady damn income at home—though he supposed not many people would count fighting for a living as steady, but it did the damn job. That was money he lost when he was here, but being gone so many months out of the year actually did him a favor sometimes as well. People wondered where he went, which made him more of a commodity when he was home, increasing the money he brought in tenfold. So he figured it worked out, even if it made torturing himself at the school with all of its irritating professors and all of the idiotic fucking students. He had only returned from the Easter holidays barely a week ago, and he was already wishing that he’d made the decision to just not come back to Hogwarts. The only reason he had was because of Mila at this point, as annoying as that bloody thought was. They only had until the end of this school year to continue this shagging relationship of theirs, with the irritating caring attached. Once they left for the summer, they’d be getting back to their damn lives, and starting the next school year the way they’d started this one—not giving a shit about anyone. It shouldn’t be too hard.

He dropped down by the lake, leaning against a nearby tree as he pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Finn supposed he should have asked Mila if she’d been home for the holidays, and how that shit had gone—or, no, not asking was probably better. This shit was so irritating and he wished there was a damn way to stop himself from thinking half the shit that he did about Mila at this point. Once he had lit the cig, he took a deep inhale, letting his head fall back against the tree. Finn was surprised there weren’t more annoying students out, as he supposed it was nice out. But even as the thought passed through his mind, he heard footsteps approaching.

@mila

It was quite frustrating that there was a need to have the school last this bloody long into the year. It wasn’t as if professors actually taught enough for a year of work. Or maybe they did and she really was skipping more classes this year than ever before. That was a definite possibility…especially since she was…something…with Finn. Some days, she realized just how much of a mistake this…relationship…was. Other days, she didn’t give a shit. Well, most days she didn’t give a shit. The more time that passed, the more she didn’t care about how of a mistake this caring thing with Finn was. There was nothing they could do about it now. They just simply needed the summer to come by where they could go a while without seeing each other. That was clearly all they needed and then next year, they could go right back to acting as if they didn’t know each other. That couldn’t be all that hard, really.

She supposed the end of the year was a bit bittersweet. Staying meant that she had a warm bed, food to eat, and Finn around. It also meant annoying people surrounding her, and professors trying to act like they knew what they were doing. And rules. Hogwarts also had the strictest rules she ever did hear. However, going home meant that she had no rules…but had to deal with her recently released from prison dead-beat father, and her uncle that she was quite certain hated her more than he hated anyone…which was quite the accomplishment, apparently.

This day seemed to be going by slower than ever until it seemed like time had officially stopped. Skipping classes without shagging Finn really seemed to be becoming rather dull. Feeling suffocated by the castle, Mila made her way outside, walking across the grounds towards the lake. It was just about warm enough for a dip, she thought to herself idly. Perhaps this weekend would be a good option, she thought to herself as she approached closer. Her eyes flickered over to the face she would recognize from anywhere, a small smirk twitching upon her lips before it disappeared again.

Dropping casually down next to him, she smirked as she leaned across him to grab his cigarette. “Thanks babe,” Mila stated, inhaling deeply before handing him back his cigarette before he got too pissy, the thought amusing her.

He did wonder if he’d even come back to Hogwarts next year—but that was simply something he normally thought at the end of each school year. This castle irritated the hell out of him the second he stepped foot in it, and he couldn’t wait to leave. Home was its own shit-show, really, but at least that was one that he was fully in charge of. Finn got shit done at home, and he wasn’t confined by anyone’s rules, let alone rules made by some irrelevant professors who wouldn’t last two seconds in the Muggle world where he lived. Magic, as far as he was concerned, was cheating, a lot of the time. If it weren’t for the free bed and food, he wouldn’t be here. Finn certainly didn’t give a damn about learning spells or any of that bullshit. He glanced up, a smirk playing across his face when he noticed Mila. Thank bloody god it was the one person in this school that he could actually stand, even though he was already wanting to asker her questions about shit that annoyingly still meant he cared. Why did anyone purposefully do this caring thing? It was too aggravating to even contemplate.

Finn hoped it was going to be as bloody easy to stop caring about each other as they expected it to be. After all, neither of them had wanted anything other than a shag, so how hard would it really be for them to revert back to not speaking to each other? Perhaps if he wasn’t wondering what was happening with her shitty uncle, and her even shittier father, then it wouldn’t be as big of a deal. Annoyingly enough, he actually wanted to know if she’d gone home over the holidays and how it had gone. But bloody asking meant bringing up questions, and they had both learned just how dangerous questions were with each other. That was the reason that they found themselves in this situation to begin with. If he’d never read that letter from her uncle, and if she’d never read the letter he’d received later about his mother, then Finn was unsure that they’d still care about each other. It would all be a hell of a lot easier if that was the case—he didn’t have bloody time to care about a bint, that was not how he did things. All he knew was that this caring bullshit better go away the moment they left the castle grounds. Perhaps they could just blame Hogwarts and claim temporary insanity—though he’d been home for Easter and hadn’t shagged another bint, as annoying as that was to think about. Finn let her take the cigarette from him, pulling another one of his pack and lighting it, “Good holiday?” He asked, after exhaling the smoke. Finn was actually surprised that he didn’t even know if she’d been home, since annoyingly they knew that shit about the other for the most part.

This year, she supposed, was going relatively quickly. Her previous years at Hogwarts seemed to drag by, but of course, the one year she didn’t actually despise, was flying by. The summer looked daunting, something she really didn’t want to face in the slightest. Between her uncle having custody and her father wanting custody, she really didn’t know how fantastic the summer was going to go. She hadn’t been going to go home for the Easter holidays, but at the last minute, she ended up leaving to go home. Her father had persistently written to her, telling her that she needed to come home for the holidays. It had been tempting to disobey his suggestion, but she knew that would only backfire on her eventually. Then, to make matters worse, she had to bloody convince him that it was best for her to come back to Hogwarts as he had been tempted to force her to stay away from school…even if that type of decision wasn’t his since he didn’t have custody. He was still her father and disobeying was not the way to go when dealing with him.

Shaking her head of her thoughts of break, she inhaled again, blowing out the smoke slowly. Hearing his question, she hadn’t answered at first, contemplating her response if she was even going to give one. She supposed the best thing to say in this situation was absolutely nothing seeing as they both wanted to stop caring about each other. It would be bloody difficult to continue caring about each other if they decided to be done with answering ridiculous questions. However, she realized she couldn’t just NOT answer him. “As good as it could be,” she shrugged. “You?”

If Finn had known that shagging Mila would lead to this stupid caring bullshit, he was sure they both would have decided against it right from the start. It would really be too bad, since she was the best shag he’d had—but they both really should have bloody avoided it because there was no time to care about other people. It was a complete waste of time and always had been, as far as he was concerned. Finn could only imagine what it would be like to care about a bint when he was home; he’d probably be dead by now. People in his neighborhood knew what buttons to press and who to exploit to get what they wanted, which was another reason why they were cutting this shit off when the school year ended; they were both from the same area, and he couldn’t bloody risk caring about her then. It would probably get them both killed, though, he supposed he wasn’t a bloody easy person to kill. Too many people had tried and failed for him. But that still didn’t mean it was worth the damn risk that Mila could get hurt—which was apparently another side effect of actually giving a shit.

Her answer was vague, which was irritating, though it was more irritating that he cared. That really didn’t even tell him if she was home or at the castle, and he wanted to know if she’d been with her shitty father. Finn nodded in response to her answer, contemplating if he’d got brain damage or some shit that caused this to happen. He had been knocked in the damn head enough times, “Got to make some money, so I consider that shit a success,” he stated, offhandedly. He’d remained undefeated over the holidays, not breaking his streak—not that he thought it was possible to break it at this point; he’d also been able to do a bit of other work, so that would keep him and his mother in their apartment and give her extra to do whatever the hell it was she did with it, usually involving a pipe, “Were you home?” Finn finally asked, not being able to hold the annoying question back. Was it really that hard to give him some damn information? And was it really that damn hard to not want to know? Stupid caring bullshit.

This school could not have possibly gotten duller, even with the amusement that she had found in her…whatever the hell they had…with Finn. The chance encounter they had, had turned into some sort of…for lack of a better word, relationship…which was irritating, to say the least. Though, she supposed worse things could have occurred. After thinking for a few moments, no, there really was nothing worse than the ‘relationship’ that they had formed. This thought irritated Mila, partly wishing that they hadn’t even met. Though, even THAT thought was annoying as she knew she really didn’t wish that, finding that the caring shit she found herself in was prohibiting that. It was like she couldn’t bloody win in her thoughts anymore. He really was the only person in this entire school that could actually hold a conversation with, which they should never be doing in the first place. Everyone else just pissed her off for the most part.

Mila knew that him asking was him trying to get more information about her family life, particularly, her deadbeat father. She also knew that the best thing for her to do was to just not answer him, but screw it. It wasn’t like their ‘relationship’ would continue beyond the end of the school year in the slightest as surely they would be smart enough to not allow it to. Two months without seeing each other was going to be helpful, she supposed…except, she wasn’t even certain they wouldn’t see each other over the summer with them being closer in the same circle than he thought. It wasn’t like she was going to out and tell him who her father was, knowing that he would know if he really was a fighter. She smirked at his response, wrapping her hands around her knees comfortably, flicking her cigarette lightly before taking another inhale at his question. Slowly, she blew the smoke out, again debating on whether she should even answer him or not.

“You could say that,” she shrugged, not looking at him. She would hardly call that her fucking home, she just happened to live with her uncle…who was now living next to her father…which she definitely wasn’t going to tell Finn. “Yes, I saw my dad,” she stated, answering his most likely next question of sorts. Mila was going to leave it at that, but she supposed that would just prolong the inevitable conversation that they really needed to stop having. “He’s not trying for custody anymore, but I guess you could say he has visitation rights,” she shrugged disinterestedly, slightly amused at her own witty statement. He was living next door to her; he didn’t need to get custody as he could now visit her every day on his own free will.

Caring was a bloody hassle. He had never cared about anyone in his damn life, not for as long as he could remember. His mother, of course, but that was more of taking care of her out of obligation—she was a drug addict and didn’t give a shit about anything but her next score, and unfortunately the money he brought in was enough to give her that. But he couldn’t toss her out on the streets, feeling as though he owed her that much. Finn supposed that was caring, to an extent. But this shit was annoyingly different than that, and caring wasn’t something that he should be wasting his time on. Granted, here, it wasn’t that dangerous to give a shit about someone. But once he got home, he needed to make sure that he didn’t so much as give her a second thought; people used others’ weaknesses against them in his neighborhood, and finding out that Finn Harlow actually gave a shit about a bint wasn’t something that he could allow anyone to find out. Hopefully, it was going to be that damn easy.

Flicking his cigarette and watching as the ash fell to the ground, he cursed under his breath. It might be easier if her answers to his questions didn’t just give him more damn questions. This wasn’t helping him to not care, annoyingly enough, and it wasn’t like she was harassing him for information about his holidays. Apparently, she was doing better at acting like she didn’t care, or maybe she didn’t anymore. Lucky bint, he thought, hoping that he’d also find it just as easy, because this was bloody bullshit, “You guess?” He repeated, raising an eyebrow. How was that something that she bloody guessed? Finn really hoped he didn’t come across her shitty damn father this summer, unsure that the man would come out of the encounter alive. He supposed that defeated the purpose of not caring once the school year was over, but he could at least help her eliminate a problem before they stopped … whatever the hell this was, couldn’t he? That sounded bloody reasonable to him.

Mila really wasn’t certain how to answer his question vaguely without giving him an actual useful answer. Apparently, her previous answers weren’t satisfactory, and that just bloody sucked. Now, she really wished she had a drink or something to distract her with. She supposed she could always move to a different form of distraction, but somehow, thinking about her spring break really pulled her out of that mood. “I still see him often,” she shrugged, smirking slightly though it was clearly forced. She hadn’t remembered him all that well prior to him going to prison, but she had thought she remembered enough. Though, seeing him again, he was apparently an even bigger arse since prison or he has always been that much of an arse, but she ignored it.

“And you? How was your break?” she asked, glancing towards him briefly. It was almost annoying that she had asked that without much thought…no, it was definitely annoying. Never had she actually cared about anyone other than herself and the fact that she was finding caring about Finn to come so naturally, she really didn’t know how to deal with that at all. She supposed that’s what happened when two fuckups came together.

Finn took a deep inhale of his cigarette, wishing for something a bit different than just tobacco at this point. It would certainly, or at least hopefully, help with him forgetting about this caring bullshit and would probably stop him from asking stupid fucking questions. He at least still had the damn ability to stop himself from shooting her an irritated look when she mentioned her father being around often. Apparently that shit was something she was just going to bloody accept, he thought, aggravating by the concept of the fucker being anywhere around her. Maybe he should deal with the man for her after the school year was over, and then he could stop caring about her. Hell, Mila didn’t even have to know; he had enough connections at home to ensure he caused her no more problems without her even being aware of it. Of course, he sorted out his own problems and didn’t leave others to do it for him, but he had others that could help make the situation easier, at least, “I’m assuming your uncle doesn’t give a shit,” he said, nonchalantly, wishing that he didn’t bloody suck too. That would make it easier for him to not talk to her after this school year and not worry that she was about to be killed by her own father.

He lifted a shoulder in a shrug, knowing that she was probably already regretting asking that question as well. It seemed that they were always going against their better judgment and asking about each other’s damn lives when they knew it was only going to make this annoying caring bullshit continue, “About the same as always,” he replied, deciding to do them both a favor and not tell her anything about how his holiday had been. This caring bullshit was getting more irritating by the day, but at least they both realized that their time was coming to an end—and then everything could go back to bloody normal.

Some days, Mila wondered why she even came to Hogwarts to begin with. Back when she was eleven, she supposed she was stupid enough to think that magic was actually cool. All she had discovered was that magic was for wimps, people who couldn’t take care of things for themselves. Instead, they hid behind wands and potions, trying to keep their hands clean. Muggles, in her opinion, were better off. They were stronger and wiser, able to maneuver situations to get what they needed. It certainly took a lot more brains to be a Muggle than it did to be a witch or wizard. No matter, it lead to this…relationship…which was enough for her to despise her eleven year old self in even wanting to come here. Caring about someone was pointless and dangerous, and now she had someone she cared about and someone that cared about her. She would have to make sure no one found out when she was home, though she supposed that was more of the caring shit coming out as if she didn’t care, she wouldn’t care if anyone found out. Merlin, this was complicated at times.

Mila shrugged at his statement, looking towards the castle briefly. “When my dad’s around, my uncle’s not…so I suppose no, he doesn’t care,” she answered offhandedly, as if it was completely normal. Her uncle and her father clearly didn’t get along very well, so she supposed it was in everyone’s best interest, mainly, hers, that they weren’t in the same room. Mila furrowed her eyebrows at his response, irritated that it was so bloody vague. “Yeah? How were the fights?” she asked, though she had already heard. It was difficult to not hear about that when they lived in the same area.