Welcome to The Mischief Within!

[Andrew Bailey]

Drew generally enjoyed the quiet feeling that lingered throughout Hogwarts in the early morning. Sure, it was never silent, but the random sounds of the castle that had once freaked him out now gave him an odd sense of comfort (especially since he liked to predict what they were). Most students did not have to get up for class for another hour, but there were still a few clusters of people eating their breakfast throughout the long tables of the Great Hall, Drew being one of them.

Most of the students were either too tired to talk (the break over the summer did have a drastic effect on sleeping habits), or were simply busy doing their own thing. Forks, knives and spoons clanged against plates as trays filled and emptied. It was a time when Drew did not feel too different than the people surrounding him; he too was focused on the notebook in front of him, his breakfast long since abandoned after a few bites of toast.

Almost all of the stories in his notebook were doomed to remain unfinished, but Drew did not really mind that he lost inspiration. He was not taking up writing as a profession as of yet, and he had finished a few tales that had taken the fancy of his muse. He peered down at the words of his most recent story, eying his latest sentence with scrunched expression on his face. No, he did not like this. He could almost imagine the word lifting from the page and yelling at him for his terrible arrangement of them.

He flipped his pencil over and vigorously erased the offending sentence, his glasses sliding down his nose as he tilted his head downward. A grumble of annoyance tickled his throat as he pushed them back up to the bridge of his nose, mentally willing them to stay in place. Of course they would not no matter how much he pleaded with them, but Drew found himself grateful for their presence, despite his irritation. Without the protective glass, something could easily fly across the room and stab into his eye; better safe than sorry, after all.

The thought made Drew lift his head and scan the room again. It was a force of habit for him to take notice of small details in a room, but the worry of sharp flying objects made him extra careful. Everything looked as it was before. The sky of the Great Hall was bright for the upcoming day, an omen Drew took to heart. He liked good weather. There were a few new faces among the students, but Drew was not going to bother to take the time to study them all. That, after all, would make him look like some kind of freak, and though he definitely was, he did not need anyone he did not know thinking that of him.

They would anyway, but what could he do?

The tip of his pencil sat back in its original place as he attempted to beckon his brain for a better set of words to replace the erased sentence. He grunted. This was supposed to be what he was good. "Bloody bugging hell," he complained aloud. The morning was supposed to be the best time for his creative juices to flow, but right now he was drawing a blank. He pulled back his pencil and sighed, snapping his notebook shut. He would get back to it later.

[Emmett Andrews]

There was nothing better than the early morning rush of a good muddy Quidditch field and dodging Bludgers just for practice. To be perfectly honest, he wasn't a Beater, but given his way he would have weaseled in there for it first. Rather, he was a Chaser. Being a human battering ram wasn’t quite so bad either. Regardless, one Emmett Andrews was currently suspended in mid-air, his legs hooked over his rather old broom while he hung upside down and his arms dangled lazily in front of him, a beaters bat clutched in his right hand. Yawning as if to mock the Bludger, Emmett suddenly heard the droning buzzing as the great black monster came shooting his way, flipping himself upright, Emmett had a moment where the blood went rushing to other parts of his body, his head protesting because he had upside down for that long.

Rolling in mid-air Emmett managed to dodge the mauling machine long enough to get himself prepped. Raising his bat, he swung quickly as the death blob came back around for him and a large satisfying crack echoed off of the castle walls and past the great stone structure. Smirking in satisfaction, the Slytherin rolled his arms and if his ego hadn’t gotten in the way, he wouldn’t have been knocked off his broom. No, he hadn’t been paying attention and the bludger had come back to knock the ego out of him. Well, that was a moot point, but anyway Emmett was suddenly flung from his broom as the bludger slammed into the handle. Landing in the mud, Emmett was on the verge of anger and his emotions switched track and he was suddenly rolling in the mud laughing.

I never said he wasn’t crazy.

Really, he should have been mad because he had just killed his only broom. Now he would have to use the school’s rather slow craptastic ones. Yanking out his wand, Emmett summoned the bludger and forced it back into the books of Quidditch equipment. Smacking the box closed, Emmett grabbed his broom and levitated the box to move in front of him. Dropping the box near the inner doors, our egotistical ass found himself ravenous. Well, it hadn’t been time to eat when he had gone outside to practice?! No matter, he was hungry now. Shoving past some clean little first years, Emmett would have headed for his own table full of sinister Slyytherins if he hadn’t seen his favorite person at the Ravenclaw table.

Slamming his muddy broom down onto the Ravenclaw table, which was where he wasn't really supposed to be obviously, Emmett squeezed himself between Drew and another student. The mud, you see, was only too happy to be leaping freely from his broom. Good strapping quality mud from a Hogwarts Quidditch field landed in various drinks and on meals being eated. It would be impossible to try and count the number of death stares Emmett suddenly received, not that he noticed or cared, for that matter. he only had eyes for one Ravenclaw writer. NO! Of course he wasn't gay, but Drew was now the unwilling paricipant in a game Emmett was going raring to play.

Draping his muddy arm across Drew's clean shoulder, Emmett leaned in and gave the Ravenclaw a rather innocent smile, with just a hint of deviousness underlying it... Of course. "Drewbee," he quipped drawing out his nickname for the boy, "would you be willing to play a little game with me?"

status?! FINITO... Er finally.
words?! 582
outfit?! Clothes WHOO! Nekkid would also be acceptable.. XD
notes?! ZOMG, please don't kill me. This is bloody late. I mean damn. >_< Feel free to throw shoes at me though. I like shoes… XD