we owned the night

It seemed so peaceful at night, compared to the ruckus Iris was used to hearing in the daytime. She didn't know what it was about the gardens that seemed so fascinating to other people, because for her, it was a place to get lost and be in solitary confinement whenever she desired.

She had only got lost the first time, but soon, her visits became so frequent that she knew almost every exit out of this twisted maze. Perhaps there were other pathways to be discovered, but not now and not tonight.

Her hand held onto the cold blade of her knife in her pocket, mostly to feel reassured that she wasn't defenseless in case of a sudden attack. And considering what happened recently, she decided it was okay for her to be cautious, due to which the knife was perfectly hidden from anyone else's point of view.

The brunette was glad that her arm was finally healed from the gunshot, since it would have raised a lot of questions back at Hogwarts when she had returned.

As she walking, Iris heard footsteps behind her and her grip on the blade tightened considerably and she hoped it wasn't a random stranger.

outfit!

His footsteps were as light as possible, his head tilted upwards as his blue eyes scanned the dark sky above. He loved Azorat for its party atmosphere, the way you could just get lost in the crowd down at the Hissing Snake. Though after the beating he'd received, he hadn't been so eager to let anyone touch him, but he seemed to be over that now.

There was that slight twinge where he wanted to pull away from someone he didn't know, but he could deal with that. Running a tongue over his lips that were still stained with a blonde's lipstick, a smirk pulled the corners of his mouth up.

God, it'd been too long.

But he'd needed a break, a little breather, and the maze gardens were perfect for that. Humming softly as he walked, the blond snapped his gaze from the stars to the maze around him, choosing paths blindly.

Tilting his head slightly at the sound of footsteps in front of him, Julian peered through the darkness, giving the dark head of hair in front of him a little frown. He could hardly make out who it was, but whoever it was seemed feminine...

"Lost?"

As she didn't recognize the voice initially, Iris instinctively turned around and caught hold of the stranger's wrists, holding the knife to the person's throat. But on closer inspection, she realized that the person was indeed familiar and took a step back, placing her blade inside her pocket once more.

"Sorry about that," she muttered, looking at the boy. "Rousseau, right?" Questioned the Gryffindor, recallung the time she had met him almost a year back. She didn't know if he'd recognize her, with the scars on her face and her brown hair.

A small grin appeared on her face amd she said, "I forgot how fun it was to use my weapon like that, but really, was an honest mistake right now. And to answer your question, I'm not lost; just wanted to take a stroll? How about you?"

He flinched.

It was nothing new for the boy, but this time it was at least warranted. He'd hardly had a chance to react before there was a knife to his throat, the cold metal pressing into his skin. Forgetting how to breath, the prefect's instincts took over, jerking him backwards. His expression wild, he stared down at the girl, for a moment too terrified to recognize her before she spoke his name.

"Yeah," he said, finally finding his voice, nodding swiftly. Her identity was coming back to him. It was the voice and the eyes that sealed the deal. "Grayson?"

He gave her a dismissive little wave, his other hand rubbing at his throat, "It's fine. Just don't do it again. I don't have such a great relationship with knives." Even as he spoke, the memory of his father almost stabbing him to death flashed behind his eyelids.

His hand dropping from his throat and he stared down at it, alarmed at the red on his fingers before he realized that it was lipstick, not blood. "Same here," he met her gaze, a tiny smile on his lips, "As much as I hate the cold, it is sort of beautiful outside."

The brunette nodded her head in affirmation. "Yeah, that's me," she replied and smiled guiltily at the boy's reaction. She mentally cursed all the people who had turned her into this paranoid freak. Sure, it was fun to scare people, but she didn't want to have to do this everytime someone came up behind her.

"Well, you are safe for the time being, so don't worry about it," she smirked lightly and sat down on the grass. "And I don't have a great relationship with people; tends to happen when you've been kidnapped and then later hit by a bullet," Iris muttered, feeling angry just by mentioning it. "Okay, I wasn't supposed to mention that but it felt good to say it out loud to a half stranger."

Noticing the lipstick on the French boy's fingers, she shook her head amusedly. "Out snogging some dumb blonde, I suppose? I swear, you and Blanchard are two of a kind." Even though they were best friends, she couldn't help but tease Alec about the girls he flirts with. She had told him that the girls were getting more desperate these days, and so far it was proving to be true.

Looking around, she hummed in agreement. "The cold outside makes it even more beautiful, I'm going to miss the weather. Gets kind of hot back in London," she murmured.

"It's good to see you again," Julian smiled. "Broken any windows since the last time we talked?" The corners of his lips twitched, his smile replaced with a little smirk. The good thing about not having seen her in almost a year was that she hadn't known what a mess he'd been. And he wasn't going to let her find that out.

Sprawling out beside her, the Prideux shrugged, a teasing smile prancing across his lips, "Isn't that what they always say before they attack?" Running his fingers across the grass that seemed to be magically enchanted to repel snow, his gaze snapped up to hers, concern flashing across his face, "God, that's terrible. I'm sorry." He looked away for a moment as he chewed on his bottom lip, "No one's really stopping you from saying it other than yourself. But while we're exchanging depressing life stories..." he hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully, "I got beat up. Almost to death. And then I almost got stabbed..." Julian trailed off, shrugging, "Not the best summer ever."

"Now, now," he tsked, giving his head a small shake, "You might upset her feelings. And we would want that, now would we?" Letting out a little snort, he raised an eyebrow, "And everyone knows Julian Rousseau's one of a kind."

He offered a small shrug. He didn't really see how winter couldn't be just as beautiful if it was a little warmer, but he assumed it was an opinion sort of thing. "If it's so hot, I guess you can use the opportunity to take off all your clothes." Julian smirked, the tune of some old English song running through his head.

The Gryffindor looked at the French boy, her mind almost lost in her own thoughts. "It's good to see you too, I suppose," she finally said and gave a brief smile. "Not really, but I did break someone's arms," she smirked as she thought about one of the guys she beat up recently, who had been about to attack her.

"Well, I already attacked you and released you, so it doesn't matter what threatening words I say any more," she replied with a grin. Iris merely shrugged at his response. "It's alright, I'm alive, aren't I? Nothing to feel sorry about. I guess you can feel sorry that it was my mother who shot me and tried to kill me and did the same to my sister," she muttered, sounding angrier than she realized. "Sorry for the rambling, I'm used to ranting to friendly strangers, but feel free to shut me up."

Iris shook her head, as though she could actually feel his pain, which in one way, she was able to. "Fuck, that sounds more horrible than mine. And screw the person to hell, whoever did that too you," she said bluntly and looked at him.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Oh please, as if you give a shit if I hurt her feelings, not like you're going to see her again, right?" The Gryffindor laughed at his comment and said, "Funny, that's exactly what he says about himself too. Like I said, two of a kind's more like it."

"Hm, as much as I'm sure that you'd enjoy watching me do that, I'm not fucking desperate like your girls to give a free show," Iris responded amusedly. "So other than being stabbed to death, how have you been?"

"Smooth," Julian snorted, shaking his head. "Did they deserve it, or are you just going around breaking arms now?"

He shrugged, tilting his head from side to side, "True, but nothing's really stopping you from attacking me again." And with Nightmare off visiting Karma, he really was all by himself here. Nodding, he chewed on his bottom lip. He really could feel sorry and compassionate for it. After all, what had happened to him wasn't so different. He could tell her. Easily. If she understood...

But the memory of crashing into that redheaded girl a few months ago was still there. When he'd almost told her. But he hadn't. It was like the words hadn't been able to come out. "It's fine," he muttered, "Ramble away."

He nodded along to her words, "I couldn't agree more. Damn him to most firey pits of hell."

Julian raised an eyebrow, "It was a joke. I honestly couldn't care what you say about her." Shaking his head, he rolled his shoulders back, "That is because Blanchard wishes he was me. And if talking like me makes him feel better, then I guess that's how he lives."

The prefect smirked, running his hands through his hair, "You don't have to be desperate. Just - live a little more in the moment." He flashed her a grin before shrugging, "It's been pretty up and down, but I'll live. You?"

"The guy who attacked me was one of my father's spies and was about to kill me," Iris replied, her voice neutral. "Is that good enough reason to break his bones?"

She scoffed at Rousseau. "I'm not going to attack you now because if I had wanted to, I would have done it by now and not wait like some idiot. Besides, why would I want to kill someone who could be a potential friend?" The brunette smirked and shrugged. "And trust me, I've been by myself for way too long, so don't worry, I'm not going to do anything."

"What, so I just ramble and you turn into the silent listener? No thanks," she shook her head. "I may end up saying the wrong thing."

"So's the bastard who tried to stab you?" She questioned, her tone have a rarely used touch of concern, yet curiosity.

Iris smirked back and said, "Oh, I've lived in the moment pretty much many times Rousseau, trying to tone it down a bit. I wish I could say I've had better days, but this bullet shot was actually one of my better days."

"I would've done more than break his bones," Julian muttered, hardly paying his words any attention before he'd said them. Blinking rapidly, he frowned down at his hands, fighting back the sense of dread. He hadn't meant that, had he? His simple philosophy in life was not to hurt others. He wasn't going to let himself become his father. But what he'd just said....

He was his father's son, whether he wanted to believe it or not.

"I'm touched," he murmured, for once being sincere, smiling at her, "About being a potential friend." He shrugged, "I've spent too long thinking everyone was going to attack me. I think I can pass this one time."

He raised an eyebrow, his lips tugging into a smile, "Please, I'm not made of glass. You couldn't say the wrong thing." Julian gave his head a tiny shake, "Though, you can keep going and we can see what happens?"

My dad. The words were there, right on the tip of his tongue. It wouldn't be all that hard to say, not in theory. Five letters and two syllables in English. Seven letters and two syllables in French. But he couldn't say them. They wouldn't come out. Staring at Grayson, his mouth opened and closed robotically before finally, words came out. "I'm Muggle-born, right. And so, there are tons of people who've known me forever who aren't very... accepting of magic. And one of those darling people decided to take it out on me."

Straightening up, he smirked, shaking his head, "A shame. I could show you a good time." He nudged her teasingly. He didn't truly mean his words. Had he, they would've been much more convincing. Patting her awkwardly on the shoulder, his words were soft. "I'm honestly not that great with words, and making people feel better, so I'll just say that that sucks."

"I've already stabbed someone by mistake, that got them killed. The last thing I wanted was to do it on purpose," Iris replied in a quiet voice. "You clearly don't seem like the fighting type though," she observed with a shrug. "Then again, that's probably just me jumping to conclusions."

She raised an eyebrow at the boy's words and rolled her eyes. "You're touched? Oh please Rousseau, you do not need to pretend to be so fucking sweet about it. I highly doubt anyone would be 'touched' to be my friend." She nodded her head. "Pass it this one time; smart choice."

"I didn't mean I'd say the wrong thing to offend you, I meant I might give away too much information, which I really do not want," she stated. "Keep going? Alright, here's something for you. When I was kidnapped last year, I was locked up in a cell for six months with my sister and we were barely surviving because of the curses we'd be tortured with. Is that enough for you to hear? This is why I don't ramble."

Iris listened as the French boy answered. After a while, she asked, "It's someone in your family, isn't it? The bitch who calls herself my mother wasn't very 'accepting' either, hence the reason she tried to kill me. But I'm only guessing because of your reaction when I asked you. It's hard to admit it, isn't?"

"That's how you get girls to fall for you?" The Gryffindor asked amusedly. "No offence, but I really hate pick up lines. Especially chessy ones like that," she admitted, amused smile still in place and punched his arm lightly. "It does suck, doesn't it? You know what's the funny thing? I've nearly died by spells and a gun. I'm scared that the third time may be my last."

And even if she didn't show it, it was that one thought that kept her awake at night.

He nodded along to her words, absentmindedly wringing his hands. What was it like, he suddenly wondered, to die? He assumed that it hurt, having been much too close to it once before, but the actual part of what happened next was a mystery that he couldn't seem to stop thinking about. "I'm not," he agreed, "But that doesn't mean I can't be." Julian murmured, crossing his arms, his shiver having nothing to do with the cold.

His fingers twitched, the memory of hitting Drea replaying over and over in the boy's mind like some sick sort of movie. He still hadn't forgiven himself for that, even if she had.

"I was being serious," the French boy raised an eyebrow, laughter sparkling in his eyes, "But believe what you want." Rolling his shoulders back, he added, "Of course it's smart. I said it, didn't I?"

Julian gave his head a little shake, raising his eyes up to the sky above, "What do you think I'm going to do?" he finally asked, his voice soft. "Go and tell the world some deep, dark secret of Iris Grayson? I'm good at keeping secrets. It's almost as easy as lying." Wincing at her next words, he glanced back at her and then quickly away, pulling his knees up to his chest. "It's enough, yeah."

He flinched away at her words, almost as if she'd reached out to hit him. His heart finding it's way into his throat, the prefect forgot how to breath. But his recovery was swift, and his heart began to slow it's lightning fast beats. He could lie. He could easily do it. But -

Well, a part of him was sick of the constant lies. He'd still do it, of course. He had a reputation to uphold. And he couldn't just give all his secrets away. But maybe, he could at least stop lying about everything. Julian glanced over at Grayson, his reply nothing more than a small, jerky nod.

"I don't want girls to fall for me," he wrinkled his nose at just the thought of people lovi-

He cut the thought off abruptly, continuing, "They just need to like me. But then, I have a whole fan club at school, so I guess I have some people who have fallen for me." Julian rolled his eyes, rubbing his arm where she'd punched him. The masses. So misguided. They really thought he was the amazing person ever, didn't they? "That's a depressing way to live life," he commented, raising an eyebrow. "And that's really not all that funny." He frowned, muttering under his breath about British people humour.

"It's not that great to be beating up people," the Greece girl admitted. "Especially when you know they are after you for a purpose. Then again, it is very handy to be able to know how to fight, though I do tend to get carried away," she grinned a little and shrugged her shoulders. "But in my defence, it's only because I was in such an exposure ever since I was a kid."

Iris looked at the Priduex for a moment before replying, "It'll take me some time to believe you, so for now I'm going to think you're just messing with me. But prank or not, I appreciate the statement," she said and smiled lightly. Sure, he may have been lying, but for now, she couldn't bring herself to care. It's not like she had anything to lose, she already lost it all. What's a little lie of assurance going to hurt?

"You being one of those lucky people to have had a proper home and actual parents as a child, I don't think you'd want to hear my deep, dark secrets," the Gryffindor muttered. Suddenly the flashbacks of her childhood came into memory; the running, the sleepless nights on the streets, each family kicking her out and what not. "It was so bad Rousseau, really bad," she told, her voice neutral once more.

And for perhaps the first time, she felt...sad. She was used to feeling angry or frustrated but never had she felt an overwhelming sadness due to the fact that she didn't have a normal life as a child, like everybody else. But she knew it was those things that led her to be the person she is today, and that was the only thing she was thankful for.

"I'm sorry that whoever in your family tried to kill you," she told simply because she was in his position more than once. "To me, my family is good as dead, except for my sister and brother whom I haven't seen in a while. Kind of hard not to run into Kait though, her red hair kind of stands out from the crowd," she remarked amusedly.

Iris raised an eyebrow at the French boy. "A whole fanclub?" She echoed. "Wow, those desperate seem to be all over the place, huh?" She rolled her eyes at him. "Dude, it wasn't meant to be funny," she retorted, her American accent coming into play. "Yeah, my life is depressing, hence the reason I'm not so popular with people."

Julian nodded in agreement. He still couldn't wrap his head around whatever possessed people like his father to be the way they were. Why in the world did someone feel the need to beat not just one, but six people over the course of however long his parents had been together. Hell, he wouldn't be surprised if his father had been beating people up since he'd been born. The man just oozed evil.

"That's fine," he shrugged. The Prideux lied. It was what he did. To him, it came as easily as breathing, or blinking. It was a second nature for him. He'd found over the years that it was the only thing he could do to make himself less susceptible to everyone and everything around him. If only it'd worked. "And you're welcome," he added, smiling at her.

His look at her was sharp, but betrayed none of the feelings he felt. It could have easily been mistaken for concern. But he felt almost like laughing out loud at that statement. Oh sure, the Rousseau mansion was a nice place, but he'd always hated it, growing up. It'd never felt like home. And proper parents? Proper parents didn't starve and hit their children. "Lucky can't even begin to describe it."

Though he supposed, he was lucky for them not outright murdering him. It wasn't as if his father couldn't get away with it. He has friends in high places, Julian thought to himself, staring back up at the sky.

Flicking his gaze back to Grayson, he reached out, patting her awkwardly on the arm, "I can't really see that not being bad, to be honest." He really didn't have it all that bad, did he? Because at least he hadn't been kidnapped.

"Thank you," Julian murmured, but found himself suddenly unable to look her in the eye. This was why people weren't supposed to know. They'd feel bad for him, and God, he didn't want that. Even if that meant lying to his best friends, he'd do it. He couldn't stand pity. The memory of the redhead resurfacing, he glanced in Grayson's direction, but not at her, "I think I've met her actually. Down at the Hissing Snake." He gestured vaguely in the direction of the nightclub.

He was glad he hadn't seen her since.

Julian nodded, a small grin appearing on his face, "It's all rather flattering. Especially the way everyone seems to stop breathing when I walk into a room." Humming softly at the memories, his grin widened. "Desperate, maybe. But either way, the devotion is nice." He rolled his eyes right back, even as a corner of his mouth twitched upwards, "Then why say it's funny?"

He raised an eyebrow. "So? So what if your life's depressing? Go make it happy. Change it. And trust me," the Prideux's eyes flashed, "being popular's not all it's cut out to be."

The Gryffindor suddenly felt out place. Here she was, telling random things to someone who was technically still a stranger to her, and the funny thing being that he hadn't told her to stop talking yet. Maybe she was just feeling lonely from the lack of proper conversations during the holidays. Maybe this'd bring her an unusual sense of comfort. After all, nothing went along in the ordinary way for her.

"I know it's not fine. My blunt comments to people are hardly fine," she simply said and turned to look up at the darkening sky. She wondered why there weren't many stars tonight and for just that moment, she was back in her Astronomy class at Hogwarts, studying about constellations and endless galaxies. Breaking out of her reverie, she murmured, "You're not so bad, Rousseau, kind of weird in fact, but that's probably why I'm not annoyed by you at this point."

Iris raised an eyebrow at the Priduex's remark. "So you didn't have a home or parents? For me, my orphanage was better for obvious reasons. I learnt a long time ago not to rely on anybody else but me. Because even if there was a tiny chance that I believed someone, it always got me in trouble." It was true. She never got the love or attention she craved as a child. All she could remember were crying nights and for some reason, it made her feel ashamed of herself, seeing as she couldn't imagine being like that now.

Hogwarts had definitely saved her life, she thought affirmatively. And so had her foster parents in the States. She knew she'd have ended up with some psychotic family otherwise.

"Of course you can see it's bad," she muttered once more. "But I suppose I wouldn't change it now, if given the choice. If I had been pampered and got everything, I wouldn't be even half as strong as I am today."

"If you are expecting my sympathy, you are not going to get it," she stated as Rousseau looked away from her. "You know what happens when too many bad things happen to you? It's like, a switch is on and you realize that you can't feel sympathetic for other people. I do feel a sense of understanding for you, I can relate to you. We may experience it differently, but the feeling is nonetheless, there." She looked at him in surprise. "You did see her? When?"

The brunette stared at the French boy for a moment, wondering if he really was as delusional as he sounded. "Everyone seems to stop breathing? The devotion is nice?" She echoed with a shake of her head. "What are you, some sort of God? Guess what, Rousseau? You're not. If this is how you plan to get on with the rest of your life, seeking desperate attention from your fangirls, I suggest you change your thoughts now."

"It's funny in a depressing way, you can say," she mumbled with a shrug. "Or funny in an amazing way, I don't know. Either way, it was not meant to be a joke. I've tried changing it, so far it's not working. But things have been kind of better than before," she admitted. She laughed lightly. "Oh don't get me wrong, I'm not fucking bothered about being popular, it's the last thing that I want."

"Well, it's fine to me, isn't it?" He raised an eyebrow, the sudden flare of anger surprising him and his hands rose absentmindedly, tugging his jacket collar down to fiddle with the necklace chain there. "And you can't really tell me what I find fine and what I don't, right?" His last words were mumbled, and he ducked his head slightly, frowning into his lap.

"Weird?" he repeated amusedly, his lips pulling upwards. "That hurts, that really does. Tell me," he tilted his head at her, "What's so very weird about Julian Andre Rousseau?"

He shrugged, "I have both, but I don't live with my parents. I moved out," more like ran away, "last....March? I think it was March." Julian shrugged again. Opening his mouth to tell her that she could believe him, he blinked, realizing just how awful of a lie that would be. "Well," he cleared his throat, shifting slightly, "I highly doubt I'll get you in trouble."

He was much more prone to getting himself into trouble.

Would he change his life if given the chance? He didn't think his life would change that much if his parents were actually decent people. He would still have his Angels for one thing, and maybe if his parents had been better the entire fiasco with Monique wouldn't have happened...

Her face suddenly flashing in his mind, he let out a ragged breath. Why in the world did she still affect him, even after all these years and what she'd done to him? But still, whenever he saw her, his heart stopped. Whenever their eyes met, he forgot how to breathe.

He was still in lo-

Shaking his head rapidly to dislodge those thoughts, he blinked at Grayson, "Good," his tone was harsher than he'd expected or wanted it to be, but he hardly cared. "I don't want your sympathy. Or your pity." Tilting his head back as he thought, his brow furrowed, "Over the summer," he finally responded, remembering how hot the night had been.

"I don't seek their attention," Julian fired at her, frowning. God, Ninette had been right. He'd be all wrinkled before he graduated at this rate. Turning his frown into a scowl, he crossed his arms. "It's not my fault they like me. I don't do a single damn thing. So no thank you. My thoughts'll stay the exact same."

Rubbing at the shoulder where Karma'd been shot, he shrugged. "Whatever you say." Rolling his shoulders back, he said, "See? My advice started working before I gave it to you." He raised an eyebrow, "That seems rather sad."

"How can my comment be fine?" Iris asked, feeling amused by the boy's sudden outburst. "That's not really the point but alright, if you say it's fine, good enough for me since I don't want to waste my breath arguing about something silly."

She shrugged. "The fact that you're still here talking to me after the stuff I said, makes you weird," the Gryffindor replied as though it was a very obvious answer. Then again, to her it was. "By the way hotshot, it wasn't an insult, it was a compliment because I like weird people," she muttered, frowning since he misunderstood her. "I'll tell you more of the weird facts as we go along the conversation," she said.

"Why'd you move out?" The brunette asked curiously. "Are they that bad?" She didn't think it'd be as bad as having a dark wizard for a father and and drug/alcohol whore, for a mother. But the boy didn't need to know that. "Hm, I don't think you'll get me in trouble, but I'd rather not risk it, seeing as I've already said too much," she sighed and lay down on the grass, hands under her head.

Turning to look at the Priduex, she said, "Sounds like sympathy and pity are touchy feelings for you Rousseau," she observed and chuckled lightly. "It's alright, I'm with you on that. There's nothing I hate more than the stupid, 'I'm sorry' looks that people give me," she said. "The only reason I don't have sympathy for you is because I've been right where you have and I can imagine the how much it pains, in more ways than one."

A million questions were running through and she frowned to herself. When was the last time she confided like this to someone she had just met a second time? And more importantly, how is it that the boy hadn't got up and left already? This was something new, and truth be told she was feeling puzzled.

Maybe, just maybe, she had found a new friend.

Though she had no fucking idea about the word 'friend', the whole concept was alien to her, except with Alec and Eye perhaps. And even Tshering. But then again, they all knew her and was used to her ways. She wasn't sure what she wanted in the current moment, but decided not to dwell on it too much.

She scoffed at his remark. "Oh please, I can already tell that you are one of those guys that thrives on such attention from girls. Sure, you may not be doing anything as such, but that doesn't mean you don't get a ego boost from it. At which point, you happen to think you're better than just about anybody."

"Sure, it was your advice that saved my life," Iris commented sarcastically and rolled her eyes good naturedly. "You know, all you've said to me is 'That sounds sad', or 'That's terrible.' Guess what, as fucking pathetic as it sounds, I don't have many good memories, yet. I just plan on making them happen."

"It just is," he said, still feeling rather irritable. "I don't know. Your bluntness doesn't get to me. I've heard worse." Julian raised his shoulders up, allowing them to fall back. The action wasn't nearly nonchalant enough to be considered a shrug. "I have a friend, and our whole friendship is built on bluntness. I can deal with yours."

He raised an eyebrow at her, "I can get up and walk away if you want, you know." Though, he was finding that he was enjoying her company. He didn't want to get up, even if the prospect of finding some girl back in the Hissing Snake was rather appealing. "Alright then." Julian laughed softly, amused.

"Why?" he repeated, tilting his head back up at the sky. Well, she wasn't getting the truth. No one was. She was getting the same answer Ninette had gotten. "They're ridiculously annoying. Always wanting me to do magic for them." He shook his head slightly. It wasn't a lie. Dilly and Tristan had asked him before to show him what he'd learnt at Beauxbatons. "They're not bad, per se," he said slowly. "They're just ... difficult."

Julian smirked, "So is this where you kill me? I know too much, prepare to die sort of thing?"

The French boy offered up a small shrug. It wasn't a lie. It annoyed him to end when people went all kind and sympathetic on him. "It's the most annoying thing ever," he grumbled, "They act like they get it. They don't." He shook his head. They never do. "I think I can live with that."

Flipping the collar of his shirt up, he raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You say that like I'm not better than everyone else." Shaking his head mournfully, he added, "And I think anyone would get an ego boost from it. Even that awkward kid that's just so nice and innocent and cute that everyone seems to think is just the most amazing ever." Scowling, he flopped down on the ground, the image of the Angelique boy swimming behind his eyelids.

"What can I say? When it comes to comforting people, I'm not the best with words." It's usually the other way around. "Good memories...they don't make all the bad go away, but they are nice, aren't they?"

The Gryffindor was ready to be more amused and continue disagreeing with the boy. But for some reason, she didn't want to. Maybe just for once, she can accept someone else's comment and just not say anything. She was used to it anyway; annoying people, it was kind of her thing. "Alright," was all she said with a slight nod of her head.

"Go ahead, walk away," Iris mumbled, pulling her knees upto her chest and resting her head on them. It wouldn't make much difference to her anyway...right? Or maybe it did. She did not know. Ever since the past few weeks, there were a lot of things she 'did not know' and it was driving her crazy. It was so unlike her to not be sure. She glanced at him sideways, before turning to look ahead once more.

She supposed that was a valid enough reason. Probably everyone was running away from their homes for one thing or another. Then again, she didn't know the boy that well, she supposed it was much worse than how he phrased it. "Guess I'm at least lucky that my foster parents don't make me do that," she muttered mostly to herself. "Sounds like you're their entertainment of sorts."

The brunette exhaled deeply. "Killing wasn't fun when I did it accidently, it won't be fun to do it on purpose. So no, like I said before, you are safe."

For once throughout the night, a sincere look crossed her features and this time, she gave Rousseau's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm not acting. I will never say that I know exactly how you feel, because I obviously don't. But I get it and for now, I hope that's good enough."

"I say that because you are not better than everybody else," Iris smirked back. "Huh, is that jealousy I detect?" The Greek girl question, and her lips quirked upwards. "I'm sure your desperate fanclub will stay loyal to you."

And for the millionth time in her life, she was fucking glad she wasn't one of those types of girls.

"Not good with words, eh? Join the club dude, I think we've all been there," she scoffed, hint of her American accent present. A smile spread on her face and she nodded her head. "Good memories are more than just good, they're the best. How unfair that I only have a few as of now."

"I would," he drawled out, a habit he'd picked up from spending too much time with Ninette Fontaine, "But you know, that'd involve actually getting up and moving." The French boy shuddered, pulling his coat closer around him. "And it's much too cold to move. And," he added, his eyes twinkling, "staying here, I have body heat to keep me warm."

He nodded, "Exactly. And I'm not their freakshow. I'm not their circus act. I'm their family, and if they won't start treating me like I am, then I'm better off without them." And all in all, in the time between him moving out and his father trying to kill him, he'd been probably the happiest he'd ever been.

"It was a joke," Julian laughed softly, nudging the brunette, "C'mon, live a little."

Offering a small smile to her, he leaned in to her touch for a moment, "Thank you," he said sincerely, "At least with you, I know enough about all that you're going through to know you're being honest."

He put a finger to his lips, his smirk only enlarging, "Shh, don't let my ego here you say that. It might get deflated." He raised an eyebrow, instantly brushing off the question, "Of course not. There's nothing about him to be jealous of." If only he could actually believe that. "Of course they will. It's me, after all."

Raising a hand for her to high-five, he grinned, "One for the club of people who aren't great with words." He nodded, expression turned thoughtful, "Well, what about we go break a few more windows and make happy memories that way?"

Iris rolled her eyes and laughed lightly at the French boy's statements of reason. "What the fuck are you talking about, Rousseau? All you have to say that you're having too much of a good time with me and hence, don't want to get up," she smirked and punched his arm.

"So where do you stay now?" She asked quietly. Being someone who came from such a pathetic yet dangerous family, the Gryffindor held a mutual hatred for all such parents. Was it that hard for them to accept their child for all their worth? It was even sadder to see the kids turn out exactly like the parents, but luckily for Rousseau, he had his own sense of determination.

She smiled lightly and said, "I don't like to lie about emotions, I'm mostly straightforward in these sorts of things."

"Well, if your ego really is blown to the maximum, then it won't be long before it deflates slightly," she stated with a grin, not realizing that what she said was perhaps true, at least in practical sense. "Nothing to be jealous of? Okay, I'll pretend to believe you."

The English girl smirked once more before giving Rousseau a highfive. "Actions speak louder than words anyway, right? And technically, seeing as I'm the one who broke the window before, you still have yet to break one," she pointed out and got up from her spot. "What say? It'll definitely be a memory for sure," she said, suddenly feeling better than she did before.

"That works too, I guess." Julian shrugged, smirking back. "But really, it is rather cold." Nodding, he rubbed at his arms in emphasis. But he didn't need to exaggerate how cold he was. He really was freezing.

A small smile crossed his lips. "Friends'. Their family's amazing." He couldn't help but find it morbidly amusing how someone else's family seemed to like him more than his."

He'd lie about anything, he realized with a slight start. There wasn't a single thing he wouldn't lie about. Because at this point, he had and he hadn't felt a single shred of guilt. "At least that's one of us."

Julian gave his head a small shake. "Blasphemy. It'll never happen. You'll see. I'll be like this 'till the day I die." The Prideux grinned. Rolling his eyes, he ran his hands through his hair. There was nothing to be jealous about Zander. He was just - him. But just being him was enough to have everyone caring about him more.

"Fine," he sighed dramatically, pulling himself up to his feet. "The Ministry's going to kill me for this." Julian shook his head amusedly. For a fleeting moment, he wondered if Kallie would let him off. He instantly disregarded it. "Let's do it." He grinned at Grayson.

"In that case, I can honestly say that I'll also go around trying to kill people my whole life," Iris half joked, though deep down, she knew she was deadly serious. She had a feeling that more people were already after her, simply because of who her father was and for having a mother who wanted her dead. "I can also say that I'll be murdering someone, someday," she added as an after thought.

She threw the Priduex an amused glance as they began to walk out of the gardens. "The Ministry'll kill you for breaking a window? Now that's bullshit, I'm sure it'll be fine. You're not scared of getting caught, are you?" The brunette asked, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Truthfully, speaking she wanted to break more than just one window, maybe something else also.

"Yeah, probably," Julian shrugged a shoulder, giving her a teasing little smile. Raising an eyebrow, he nudged her softly, "Now, now, from the amount of quality time I've spent with you, I can assure you that you don't seem like the murdering type. Far from it, actually." And I would know, he added mentally.

"Of course not," he rolled his eyes, shoving his hands into his pockets as they walked. "It's just that, when you have the Minister herself as your mentor, you have standards to uphold. But if she never finds out..." he trailed off, grinning.

"Looks can be deceiving Rousseau," the Greek girl stated with a shrug of her shoulders. "But if you are interested in seeing my murderous side, I suggest you spend more 'quality time' with me," she told and smirked lightly.

She knew very well how to put on a mask, and pretend to be the good girl. But tonight, she wasn't wearing it, not completely anyway.

"Kallie is your mentor? No wonder you're being so edgy about this," she remarked with a laugh. "No worries, I'm sure she'll be having a lot in mind than a broken window." She looked around as they reached the streets. "So, do you want to do the honours?" Iris questioned and grinned as she picked up a piece of rock and tossed it from one hand to another, and gave it to the Priduex.