Setting: Hogwarts grounds, afternoon
Summary: Derek's thoughts of the previous night are interrupted by Joey beside the lake.
Derek sat hunkered in the shade of the trees that stood along the lakeside, and had been sat there for the good part of an hour. His hands were balanced firmly on his legs as if he was waiting. Gently and methodically he tapped his fingers patiently, but despite appearances he was waiting for no one. The tapping that he drummed was no more a half-conscious habit while he tried to bring his most recent thoughts into some sort of order in his mind. He had much of great consequence to think on. He had been hearing some rumours. In a school it was near impossible to ignore them, but unfortunately for him he was still new and had only started moving in those circles.
Joey, on a swim in the lake as many students were that fine afternoon, struggled to the surface for air. He'd misjudged how long the gillyweed would last, and then he'd gone the wrong way when he finally began noticing it wearing off. He thought he had it right this time though. He pulled himself through the water with all his strength, finally breaking the surface. He gasped in air as his arms continue to thrash wildly, splashing water all around him, as if they weren't entirely sure he'd made it. Something of a talent when it came to Quidditch, but swimming, he realised, could not be applied in the same way.
Derek was in the midst of thinking about when he would get an owl conforming his status, when he was rudely interrupted from a splashing sound a few feet away and sharply turned his head to look towards it. With curiosity stemming in him he walked over to the edge seeing now it was one of the non-slytherin boys. His lips started to curl up into a disdainful expression, but soon it dropped and gave way to an absurdly cheerful smile. "Would you like a hand?" He drawled out in a low voice.
"Bad," he coughed out, "timing." He shook his head, still gasping and paddled with his arm at a more moderate rate. He paddled up to the bank. The lake was still very deep, and he wasn't particularly tall, his feet didn't reach the bottom. He held his hand up to the Slytherin, not entirely sure if he knew him.
He idly thought about ducking the boy's head back under for disturbing him, but Derek didn't want to get his clothes wet from the splashing and he wasn't in the mood to shoo everyone away so soon. After all it had been too much of a quiet afternoon as it was. Slowly he reached his hand out, meeting the other's and tugged up his arm sharply.
The boy tugged his arm so hard and so suddenly, that Joey found himself reflexively struggling to get a foot hold and some leverage. He caught the bank with his foot and pulled himself forward, trying to keep up with his arm. He wrenched his hand away collapsing face first onto the grass. He picked himself up. "Thanks," he said quietly, looking up to the other boy. Derek must have been of quite some stature, because Joey suddenly found himself very inexplicably worried.
"You're welcome," Derek replied. Dropping the grip from his arm he took a step back, making no more attempts to assist. He didn't recognise him. "A suggestion for next time - armbands."
Joey winced at the implication that he couldn't swim, though it was true he couldn't very well, and he responded rather coldly "Or a pressure resistant chronometer. I only lost track of time, and then," he looked up at the sky, "direction. Still, it's a mistake you only make once." He pulled himself up and dusted off the grass and loose dirt as best he could, although it seemed inclined to stick to his wet body. "Anyway thanks. I'll be off in search of the rest of my clothing now." But he made no move to leave, perhaps like a rabbit stuck in headlights. "Uhm, you're a Slytherin, right?"
He took another step back as some of the loose debris from the scrawny body fell dangerously close to his shoes. "Yes. However might you have come to such an astute observation," he questioned, but in the flat tone that indicated he didn't want an answer either way. He tried to place the boy in his mind but with mild discordance couldn't think of seeing him before. "Gryffindor, I expect. Or Ravenclaw." Indicating him with a nod of his head. "You have that look about you."
"Green on your clothes." he said. "You get so used to wearing house colors you hardly notice them, I guess. I'm Joey Jenkins, Griffindor."
"Derek Jugson," he replied in a stating manner, not entirely sure that staying the presence of a Gryffindor was appropriate or welcomed. "I suppose that is the way with things, isn't it."
This was Derek Jugson? Joey wished he hadn't stopped to ask. As far as he was concerned, Derek's reputation went before him, as did his brooding glares, apparently. "Ah, yes. I've heard of you." Joey nervously slapped an insect that had settled on his shoulder for a bite. He looked back at the water. "I'm trying to decide if I walk back to my clothes, or swim,"
"With your most recent escapade, I would say that looking for the clothes might be the safer option. Wouldn't want you to almost drown now, would we. Again." He laughed, it was a small crazy titter which seemed to come from that blank face as if by ventriloquism.
He blushed, murmuring "I can swim just fine. I just...got turned around." He turned and walked briskly down the lake bank, feeling self-conscious. It was bad enough that Daniel was giving him problems, without giving another one a reason to do so.
"Of course you did." Derek said quietly. After a moment longer, he rocked back on his heels turning to leave, or at least replace himself on the spot he had been sat in for the last hour, watching the young gryffindor from under his brows.