Voulez-vous?, Evan // Ana

Darkness. No, not quite. There was light playing across the deserted hallway from the randomly lit sconce, and the lighted room behind. It wasn't even that late, at least not the way Evan saw it. Some of the more sleep-prone people would call one o'clock in the morning too late to be ghosting, but to Evan it seemed like the perfect time. Sleep was over-rated anyways, at least on a Thursday night like tonight. Why a Thursday? Friday was coming up. It was all right for Evan to be sleep deprived on Fridays, seeing as he had all weekend to make up for it. Thus, it became somewhat of a habit for the 6th year to wander the halls on a Thursday night for no particular reason.

This particular evening Evan had been down in the trophy room. Why? Well, why not? It wasn't as if the school was a very happening place at this time of night on a weeknight. Besides, it had been a while since he had been down there to gloat. So much Ravenclaw pride in one little room . . . well, perhaps that was a bit of an exaggeration. Evan was just in a nostalgic sort of mood. Besides, it was a refreshing change to be alone. Not that Evan was feeling particularly anti-social; he didn't really like to think of himself that way.

Standing in the doorway, readying to leave the trophy room, Evan caught sight of his shadow. The backlighting was terrible, seeing as the room behind was well lit and the corridor ahead was sporadically illuminated. Stretching before him, his shadow seemed gangly and almost unnatural. The head and shoulders seemed somehow larger than the body. It was this that caught Evan's attention. It made him look strong and masculine. Somehow this shadow was reflecting what Evan wanted to be, minus the gangly part of course. They say a shadow takes on the form of that which blocks the light. He stared for a moment longer, feeling his confidence rising. Maybe the big head wasn't just a play of light. He felt . . . well, let's not ruin the moment with talk of emotions.

Evan smiled to himself. In this deserted stretch of school, there really wasn't anyone else to be smiling at. This was the thought he held as he stepped out into the hallway. It took a moment for the darkness to become translucent, so it may have been the shadows that seemed to suggest movement down the corridor. Evan took another step, and another. Maybe he was more sleep-deprived than he had though. Or maybe there really was someone approaching.

Ana saw his shadow before she saw him. It was after all, very dark in that corner of the hallway. Which was why she'd chosen it in the first place. Cold, uncomforting Thursday nights like this one were the worst. For one thing, it was almost the weekend, but it wasn't really. And if there was anything Ana hated more than orange with pink in an outfit, it was being made to wait for something good. Even particularly hedonistic Saturdays couldn't match up to the expectations she'd built up while sulking in classes during the rest of the week. This particular Thursday, she was in an even fouler mood than usual. Firouz's latest letter had mentioned that her parents were thinking of adopting some token poor kid from Ghana. Ana didn't have anything against Ghana or it's kids and so, she hoped for their sake that they would not fall under her parents' benevolent radar. She saw this as a blatant attempt on her parents' part to buy a child who'd be forced to respect, obey and worship them. After all, a child who'd escaped starvation and snake bites wasn't going to quibble about being unloved. Instead, he'd humor them as long as it ensured a proper roof over his head.

Instead of trying to reach out to their alienated kids, her parents were simply shrugging them off and flying in a replacement from Ghana. This was enough to make an already aggravated mood throw a hissy fit. She'd walked all the way back from the owlery, scowling at all and sundry, stamping her feet loudly on the cold stone floor and generally making a perfect nuisance of herself. She was itching to pick a fight with someone, but forunately or unfortunately, people kept their distance. Finally, she'd decided to retreat to a less crowded area of the school to avoid the Is-it-your-time-of-the-month? stares. It would help her calm down and if she needed to vent or scream or kick at something, the stone gargoyles lining the hallway leading to the trophy room, were the perfect candidates.

Slipping into the more dimly lit hallways immediately mellowed her mood. When she was alone, she could reflect more peacefully. There wasn't a constant din around her, of students laughing, talking, whispering, not letting her just be. This way, she was still angry, but with nothing tangible to direct her anger at, she'd gradually calm down. To help the process along, she began fishing around her bag for rolling papers. Once she'd found them, she opened her trusty tin can and shook out some weed onto the flattened paper. Then, licking the tips of the paper, she expertly rolled up a joint. Whispering "Incendio" under her breath, she brought the joint closer to the tip of the glowing wand. Then taking a few quick puffs, she stuffed her wand and tin can back into her robes.

The weed allowed her to think even more uninhibited nasty thoughts about her parents, and the smell of the smoke reminded her of dingy New York City jazz clubs. Ana couldn't decide how she was feeling at the moment. Nostalgia on the one hand was making her miss home and resentment for her parents was making her glad that she was far, far away. Just then, she saw a huge shadow fall on the floor, directly in her line of vision.

There was a gigantic head and shoulders topping off a long, curvy frame and the whole effect was quite jarring. Ana retreated deeper into the shadows, not wanting to be caught by a professor or a gargoyle as the case may be, with a joint in her hand. But the footsteps were steadily approaching her and she sighed to herself, wondering how she always managed to find unwanted company right when she'd started on a perfectly good joint.

Peering out of the shadows, she saw a familiar shape framed against the backlight of the trophy room. Squinting to make sure, she immediately recognized Mr. My-Head's-Bigger-Than-A-Pumpkin Cohn. She was partly glad that she wouldn't have to put out her joint after all. But, that was not enough to offset how generally annoying she found him these days. Ever since Bobby had told her about Evan and their 'episode', Ana had found herself quite irritated by his general presence. She couldn't put her finger on why, really. After all, they'd got on like a house on fire over the last six years. They'd shared the same joys and woes when it came to Quidditch, because they were both on the same team. They'd smuggled in tricks from Zonko's together to make other Ravenclaws misreable. They'd pulled each other's legs too, but they always kept it friendly. Yet now, as she saw him approaching, she wanted to say something extremely biting. Something that went beyond the playful, and into ugly territory. Maybe she just needed someone to take the beating for her bad mood. Or maybe there was something specific about Evan that attracted her ire.

Whatever it was, Ana wasn't going to give it a second thought. The way she looked at it, Evan had walked right into a moody and resentful teenager's lair. He had what was coming to him. Nodding to Evan when she saw that he'd noticed her, she asked with a smirk - "Do you just like looking at trophies you could never win?"

So that smell was indeed not cat piss. The lazy curl of smoke could have been an indicator of the true source of the smell, but it was dark, so Evan’s lack of vigilance could be excused. Besides, the boy hard hardly ever been exposed to smoking of any sort. It just wasn’t something his parents did, though drinking was a normal, perfectly acceptable pass time for everyone in his family. As long as you’d reached puberty, that is. The smell of weed always reminded Evan of his muggle Aunt’s cast-off sofa. She had a thing for friends of the feline variety.

The odor, smoke, and glow of the lit joint came from the shadows ahead and to the left. The sleepy Ravenclaw smiled to himself. Who else did he know for sure was a smoker? Late night encounters of the random variety tended to be the best, especially with such good friends as a certain Ms. Ana. She had been acting strange lately, so it could only be a good sign that it was her face which greeted him. Evan thought it was too coincidental that they had happened to be in the same stretch of hallway. It had been too long since they’d really spoken anyways. He couldn’t really remember the last time . . . most likely some time before the holidays.

Evan was smiling. Evan was happy to see Ana. Unfortunately, his enthusiasm didn’t seem to be mutual. It was the same, new Ana standing there smoking her joint. She didn’t look particularly pleased. Maybe it wasn’t him though, maybe she had something on her mind.

"Do you just like looking at trophies you could never win?"

Ouch. That would have hurt coming from any other mouth. He probably would have just continued walking at that point, but it was Ana. They did this shit all of the time. “It’s better than looking at you” ha. Take that. He frowned at the joint in her hand, which she seemed insistent on dragging on and on. “I thought you were quitting?” He waved a hand in front of his face, using the same hand to snatch up the joint. Evan had never smoked before. One puff couldn't hurt.

He brought it to his lips, inhaled and . . . felt as if his throat was on fire. It tasted worse than it smelt. Why did anyone do this to themselves?

As Evan smilingly approached her, all hugs and bunny-eyed, Ana sullenly took a long, hard puff and slouched further back into the shadows. She choked back the bile that rose to her mouth and was surprised despite herself, that Evan was prompting such an extreme reaction from her. I mean this was Evan - granted he was extremely annoying when he tried to rationalize her feelings or put her on the couch - but, he meant well. Ana had such a hard time keeping her emotions in check that she needed someone as soothing and calming as Evan to keep her solidly rooted sometimes. It'd take the Cruciatus curse to make her admit it - but she liked that he was the chivalrous sort - she'd take complete advantage of him and at the same time, diss him for being such a sucker. But, she didn't want him to change. Not a bit.

But then, why had she changed? What had changed between them? Things had been rattling along rather peacefully before the holidays. Evan had always been the no-drama sort and diffused any sort of tension before Ana could cook up a scene. But, this time things were different. It had been ever since Bobby had dismissively and laughingly told her about Evan and her hook-up. It was ridiculous really. Snogging teenagers in every spare closet at Hogwarts - and this particular story had still knocked the wind out of her guts. It had taken a million rounds around the Quidditch field to get the visual out of her head. Only to pop up again when Evander Cohn thoughtfully graced her with his presence.

"It’s better than looking at you."

Ana had a strong urge to permanently disfigure his pretty-boy looks. First, she'd wipe that self-satisfied smirk off and give him a clown face. For a moment, she entertained herself with that visual. But, then thoughts of closets and heaving bodies intervened, and Ana screwed her eyes tightly shut. A wave of anger swept over her and she bitterly snapped, "If that's true darlin', why're you skulking around dark corners with me? Or are you such a slut, you've got into every girl's knickers here and you've nowhere else to go tonight?"

"I thought you were quitting?"

Perfect. Now he was acting like she owed him something. Her eyes flashing irritably, she replied harshly, "Yeah, well. No one cares either way. So, what the heck right?" When he grabbed the joint out of her hands, she was momentarily annoyed at his presumptuousness. But, as she saw his eyes begin to water like a first-time smoker's, she felt a sharp twinge of vindictive pleasure. For the first time since he'd interrupted her, a happy smile cracked her lips open - "Didn't your mommy teach you to ask before you snatch?"

It was a few moments before Evan’s vision was restored and his throat was clear of that acrid odor. This was worse than the morning after his sixteenth birthday party, the one time he’d truly been hammered. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t worse, seeing as Evan still couldn’t eat couscous, but it was most definitely up there. Still a sense of curiosity lingered. Maybe another drag . . .

For a moment Evan was tempted to crush the nasty habit beneath his shoe. Drugs were a weakness anyways, but some people needed their vices, as he suspected Ana did. Surely stamping out her “one release” would do nothing to diffuse what was proving to be a difficult situation. He passed the joint back to its owner, using the other hand to pass his index finger and thumb over his eyes, squeezing the inner edges for a moment before straightening with a sigh. What had he done to make enemies with his best friend? He’d always envied her passion, her spunk if you will, laughing at the poor bugger that found himself on the wrong end of her convictions. Sure, they’d fought, but he’d always weaseled his way back into her good graces, but then who was to say this would be any different? He was giving up before he’d even tried.

But still. The past couple of months had given Evan more than enough drama to fill an entire life-time or five. Why should he put up with more shit from anyone, especially someone who was always supposed to be there for him, no matter what? Righteous anger welled up inside him, only to be quelled beneath that inhuman self-control.

"If that's true darlin', why're you skulking around dark corners with me? Or are you such a slut, you've got into every girl's knickers here and you've nowhere else to go tonight?"

Stop, take a deep breath. So that’s what this was all about then? Evan had been hoping Ana wouldn’t ever find out about Bobby. Being naïve as he was, Evan had hoped telling Bobby’s beau would make everything better, but apparently that was not his fate. It was unfair that he should forever be paying for a moment’s indiscretion, yet he expected better of himself and apparently so did Ana.

“Look, I think I owe you an explanation, assuming you’ll hear me out.” God, this was difficult. Evan leaned against the wall next to Ana, avoiding eye contact, shielding his face with the duo masks of darkness and a hand swept through his hair. “Somehow, I don’t think Bobby would have told you the whole story.”