#mg(iloy) au

[wisteriavines]

my genius (is lost on you)

harry potter prompt & snippet:

Ravenclaw is the house of the smart, the stiffs, the socially-inept, and just about any and every other insult a moronic Gryffindor could come up with. It, alongside their sister house of the Hufflepuff, are neutral to any and all spats within Hogwarts — which isn’t too difficult since most spats are between the remaining two houses and they want nothing to do with the red and green’s ego fighting.

Truly, it’s the best house to be in if they want the full academic experience — which they do. However, they didn’t take into account the year that they’d be attending. As in, the same year the famed Harry Potter enters the Wizarding World publicly for the first time.

But why should they have? They were uninterested and didn’t see what the big deal was. It’s been ten years since the boy did anything (and even that is suspicious, lacking all sorts of common sense — how the fuck would a baby be more powerful than a man that many coined to be like Hitler of all people?) and it should all fade after some time.

And then first year steadily progressed and the sheer stupidity of (and surrounding) their fellow year-mates in the other houses was so astounding that they couldn’t help but watch it all unfold.

They pity the Granger girl, with an obvious thirst for knowledge but in the wrong environment to properly cultivate it. The youngest Weasley boy is slightly annoying, with his tactless words and demeanor towards learning. And Potter is…puzzling. There’s intelligence hidden beneath those green eyes, and yet it is so rarely displayed.

Interesting, but not enough to make them even think of getting involved in their little adventures that they have no reasonable way of always being involved with, what the hell.

So they watched but not overtly so, keeping to their studies more. However, second then third year passes and it is getting frustratingly more difficult to focus when the little trio is always caught in some mess or another.

“What’s Potter up to now?”

They don’t know and they don’t care. Leave them alone to read this fascinating work about combining three of their core classes, please and thank you.

“How is he not dead yet?”

They- ..okay, that is a valid question but not exactly immediately important, unlike the potions essay they have to write.

“What new calamity do you think he’ll bring to us this year?”

Ugh, don’t jinx it, imbecile. They want to do some more research into magical creatures, not wonder how a teen boy they don’t even know will come close to death for the umpteenth time.

“A fourth champion?”

“Geez, I wonder who.”

“Ugh, seriously? First no quidditch and now this?”

“Harry Potter.”

They blink, mind short circuiting and taking an agonizing slow time to reboot. But when it does, everything they know and read speed through their mind and connections are made. They focus back into their surroundings just as shouts of outrage are ringing through the hall, alongside one person’s denial.

Merlin’s saggy balls.

“Are you seriously all so bloody fucking stupid?”

The hall quiets and it takes a moment to realize that they had spoken, cold fury tightly laced in every word. Nothing for it now, they suppose and swiftly stand up from the table.

Ignoring the Headmaster, they walk up to the famous Harry Potter and look straight into his eyes. Wary and defensive green eyes stare back.

“Was there ever a time you, Harry Potter, have willingly written down your name for the sole purpose of entering the Triwizard Tournament of the year 1994?”

A bewildered blink, a glint of realization, a firm set to the jaw and, “No. There was never a time I, Harry Potter, have willingly written down my name for the sole purpose of entering the Triwizard Tournament of the year 1994.”

So he does know the importance of clear wording, another interesting and puzzling thing about him. Curious, but not something they should be focusing on right now.

Instead, they turn their gaze to the Goblet of Fire and raise a brow. Even with rules placed around it, it is still a magical entity — as in a completely independent existence — all the same. And one that does not take very kindly to being cheated or bewitched.

They don’t flinch when the scrap of paper in the Headmaster’s hand goes up in brilliant blue flames and the year’s DADA teacher cries out in pain.

Clicking their tongue in annoyance, they turn their attention back to Harry. The boy is staring between them and the writhing-in-pain professor with wide, incredulous eyes.

“Congratulations. You’re no longer a champion,” they offer blandly, internally grumbling that he never was one since he didn’t enter the tournament himself in the first place.

With that done, they walk back to their table and seat, picking up the book they were reading and proceed to ignore everything else around them.

Rather unfortunately, not that they know it yet, this will have the consequences of garnering unwanted attention. Specifically, Harry Potter’s attention.

Is it really too much to ask to be left alone to read and learn whatever they wanted?