Penitence || Orion

Saturday, November 26, 1921
The Paddocks,
8 AM

"I'll be back at the end of the hour to make sure it's been done right."

Those words saw the Care of Magical Creatures professor off. Professor Stonewell never looked back at either of the pair, hell-bent on doubling down on his nonsense. What a stubborn man he was when he thought he had the right of it. No amount of protesting or arguing would convince him that neither of them had been the ones to release the puffskeins during their lesson on Thursday. It had injected a bit of chaos into the class, derailing them for several minutes before the man managed to get it back under control.

Forget Orion; what incentive would she have had to set the fluffy booger eaters free? Sure, they had soft fur and the most darling eyes, but those were things Rae could admire while they were still in their pen.

Psychopath that Orion probably was, she couldn't imagine even that would've been enough to gain his attention and convince him to open the gate. Knowing him, those big innocent eyes never got close enough to make the boy's soul so much as twitch. Despite the fact that both had been standing by the gate – actively listening to the lesson, might she add – neither had been inclined to ruin their chances at enjoying their weekend.

Yet here they were, shovels in hand, ankle-deep in shit like the criminals they weren't.

Rae huffed loudly as the man disappeared around.

"This is bullshit."

She tossed her shovel into the muck, the tool hitting the ground with a low and smushy 'thud'. She stepped over it, doing very little to hide her disdain that grew with each squelch of her boots. Rae leaned against the fencing. Her body sagged at once. The girl wasn't used to being up at such atrocious hours on the weekends. Her eyes burned and her nerves were shot, leaving her even less amenable to punishment on behalf of someone else's deed.

Rae groaned.

"How much more trouble do you reckon we'll be in if we just up and leave?" As opposed to letting the professor come back to find them and the untouched work.

That is...unless Orion actually planned to spend his Saturday morning shovelling piles and piles of dung.

Strange as he was, it was always a little difficult to predict the way he'd lean.

Contrary to Professor Stonewell’s belief, Orion Cadieux did not release the Puffskeins. He could have; a simple flick of his wrist would have unlocked the pen and sent the creatures barreling out. But why would he bother when he did not give a fucking shit about those fucking weird fluff balls. If he’d wanted to stir trouble, he would have picked a much more menacing pen—Fire crabs, Kappas, Ashwinders, you name it. Anything that, without proper supervision, could have caused chaos and, if lucky, maim someone

But no. Unfortunately, the only consequences of the release of the Puffskeins were students squealing of delight and him being falsely accused of doing something so fucking pathetic. So here he was, Saturday morning, meant to clean up shit with none other than Ruth Elliot.

He didn’t care for Ruth, much like he didn’t care for anyone else. However, because Benjamin Laurence had a big fucking mouth which he loved to use far too much especially around Orion knowing how much he preferred silence over whatever bullshit the Hufflepuff wanted to talk about, Orion was familiar with Ruth. They also happened to be in the same house which meant that they shared too many similar spaces, which also consequentially meant that Orion had to endure the shrill sound of her voice rather often.

And now, for probably the first time ever, they were stuck together.

He leaned against the fencing, cigarette between his lips, staring at a random point in the wall in front of him. The early morning didn’t bother him; he in fact much preferred it this way. He was, however, bothered by the person he had to share it with along with the task handed to them.

For the longest time, Orion remained silent, ignoring Ruth’s question. Undeniably, Professor Stonewell would be enraged if they left without accomplishing their shit scooping job.

Then again, did Orion care?

Kicking himself away from the fence, he planted the shovel in the nasty pile in the middle of the room. Then, he turned back, sticking his hands in his coat, and aimed for the exit, smoke from his cigarette trailing behind him as he moved.

He never spoke a word to Ruth Elliot, but something told him that, unfortunately for him, she would be keen to follow him.

Well, she supposed that was one way of doing it.

From her spot along the fencing, Rae watched Orion jam his shovel into the muck before turning for the exit. It was decisive for the boy, action taking the place of his coveted words. Like her, he obviously believed that whatever ire Stonewell conjured would be preferable to the activity he'd set the pair to.

The girl, herself, was nearly sure of the same.

The options laid before her were simple: shovel the shit, stick around and wait for the man to return to see she hadn't shovelled the shit, or follow the boy out and deal with the creature professor whenever he finally ran into them next. Orion had chosen option three without so much as a second thought, and Rae was inclined to see where that choice took him.

Drawing her wand, she conjured herself a chair with an extended footrest and sank down into it. How misplaced such a luxury chair would've seemed, set in creature excrement and foul smells that would take a lifetime to remove from real fabric.

The girl had barely managed to get comfortable when she heard a low grunt coming from the entrance.

It seemed that Stonewell had forgotten something and had had to double back, running him right into the fifth-year as he tried to make his escape.

To say the man was displeased to find one of his detentionees already calling it a morning would've been an understatement. The man blocked Orion's path, a stern look etched into his brutish face. Thick eyebrows came together as he realised what her housemate was attempting. "Does this appear to be a joke to you, Mr. Cadieux?"

Rae sank into her chair, wanting to be clear of the man's line of sight while he laid into the boy – and Merlin, did he. She didn't account for him leading Orion back to the pen or the way he suddenly vanished her chair, causing her to flop into the dung with a startled squeak and an unceremonious splat that made her blood run cold.

"Unless you both intend to be here for the entire day, I suggest you actually get to work. Do I have to be standing over you the entire time?--Hand over your wand, Miss Elliot."

She couldn't hear him.

Rae was too busy losing her ever-loving mind over suddenly being covered, head to toe, in shit. She would need at least ten showers.

Uuggghhhh it was in her mouth.

Pth, pth, pth.

"Mr. Cadieux, while I wait for Miss Elliot's wand, please reclaim your shovel. I'd like to see some progress."

"Have you lost your mind?" she asked, cross as a rattlesnake in summer.

“Fuck.”

Blocking his sweet freedom was Professor Dumbass. While he berated him with talks of disrespect and consequences to his actions, Orion looked right through the man with a clear look of disinterest. He did not register one word of his teacher’s hysterics; he focused, instead, on how the huge pile of shit would look wondrous on top of the man’s head. Orion imagined a few selective curses he could throw his way to make the man shut up, knock him out, whatever that would make him cease everything (shouting, roaring, living, existing—choose your pick.).

In the end, the Slytherin was forcefully dragged back to where his task awaited him. But for once in his life, Professor Stonewell accomplished something worthwhile: he made Ruth Elliot flop into a huge pile of shit. It was a beautiful sight, one that managed to make the corner of his mouth tick the faintest way upwards. The amusement didn’t linger—it never truly did—especially less so when now his teacher was back to being a despicable nuisance and eagerly watched him commence his detention Orion had no intention of following through.

He did as he was told and he reclaimed the shovel. Orion, however, didn’t pursue the task. Instead, he crossed his arms and rested them upon the handle, then dropped his chin on top of them. “Dear old Benjamin would be hard as rock seeing this delicious sight,” he sneered. “It would be like looking in the mirror.”

Finally moving, Orion maneuvered his shovel to send a pile of shit in the direction of their professor, which he followed with a neutral, clearly saddened, “Oops.” Then, he marched to a corner of the paddock where lay a large bucket. With a flick of his wand, he filled with water.

“Stay still, princesse.”

He then swung his arms and sent the whole content of the bucket right onto Ruth.

To say that Rae was having a bad morning would've been the understatement of the century. Up before she wanted to be. Punished for something she didn't do by a man who refused to hear reason or ask questions intelligent enough to realise he was wrong. And now she was covered in shit. The girl would have to scourgify herself a million times before sinking into the large bath in the prefect's bathroom, but first, there was this fresh hell that required her attention.

Her mind was far from the professor demanding her wand and his gruff warning to Orion for throwing dung in his direction. All she could think about was the way it smushed itself into her hair and smeared her face and clothing.

It was safe to say that the Slytherin girl hadn't noticed Orion moving closer or the way he filled the bucket until the warning that came far too late.

“Stay still, princesse.”

What—?

Before she could make sense of it, the girl was doused in water that set her shivering and loosened the excrement enough for it to be sloshy and runny as it dripped down her with the water. How did things keep getting worse?? The squeak that escaped her was shrill, but not as shrill as the proper scream that clawed its way up the back of her throat and out into the crisp November air as the last of her patience fled before her.

"Mr. Cadieux! Your wand as well. You're both acting like children who can't be trusted with simple tasks! You could be well on your way to finishing if you weren't so busy trying underhanded tricks and thinly veiled disrespect."

The man had the nerve to lecture her.

Fine.

Fine.

If he wanted her to have detention, she would earn it. Rae ignored the professor's rebuke, drawing her wand and taking aim at her housemate. "It's your lucky day, professor. I'm about to vindicate this little detention exercise of yours. Wand up, Orion. We may as well deserve every shovel." Rae did not suffer for the sins of others, but she was fine to commit and pay for her own if the man truly insisted on keeping her there.

"Or don't—Bombarda!" The choice was his.