... The What?

...Shit

Jack was just not feeling it today. He sat up in his bed, the sheets kicked off to one side. He wondered what the hell he did at night while unconscious. He took a mental note to videotape himself sleeping one day. He wouldn't forget. Jack looked around, the day horrendously early. He looked out the window, taking a quick glance at the sun. Dear god, it was 6:00 am. He didn't think it was possible to wake up that early. Jack groaned, throwing the shades back closed. He heard a mutter from one of his dorm mates. Idiot. Jack took a particularly stiff wad of dirty socks and chucked it at his friends head.

"Go die..."

Jack heard from under the pillow, and he smiled tiredly. He stretched, multiple limbs cracking. That felt good. Maybe later he would-

"ACHOOO!!!!"

Crud, what the heck did I catch last night? Jack rarely sneezed, and now his nose felt like a faucet. He sniffed loudly, and someone launched a pillow at him. Jack cursed, hitting the pillow to the ground. Despite the fact that he was a wizard, with fully capable magical powers, Jack usually resorted to the ways of a muggle, they were simpler. But that didn't mean he never used his wand. Jack grabbed the magical stick and, finally realizing he couldn't fall back asleep, jumped lightly down the stairs, looking around the common room. Wonderful, it was empty. He coughed loudly, and his throat suddenly felt hoarse. He covered his mouth, and shuffled to the couch, where he tipped himself over, falling over the back of it and onto the cushions. There he layed, looking at his wand.

Jack slapped his hand down on his hair, trying to lay it flat, but the strands kept sticking up. His Under-armour tank top revealed a food stain from a while ago, and his pajama bottoms were loosely fitting. Jack didn't care how he looked very much, because he was in the common room. Except for his hair. He needed his hair to look good.

The pillow launcher was one very sleepy Howl Blishwick, who along with having a tendency to be nervous and jittery was also a light sleeper. The sneeze had woke him up, and now he knew he'd probably never get back to sleep. He got up, immediately changed into his robes and put his black, scruffy hair into a ponytail and walked into the Commons room. He listened to Jack cough for a moment before he leaned up against a wall and crossed his arms. "You keep coughing like that, and you're going to sound worse than I do." Rarely did Howl mention how unnaturally raspy his voice was... He preferred having others think it was naturally that way. Besides, he had more interesting stories to tell. "Thanks for waking me up by the way... If you had waited for even a couple of hours, I might have woke up at a reasonable hour," Howl said, rolling his eyes.

He was always slightly antagonistic against wizards that weren't considered pureblood and completely antagonistic against wizards that were "mudbloods." It was part of the territory that came with being not only a pure-blood wizard (and sometimes, his lies seemed so real and complete, he could almost believe that about himself), but also as a member of the Dark Followers. While the whole Dark Followers thing was, of course, secret; it wasn't any secret that Howl talked about his "pureblood" status any chance he could get, that he regularly picked on Muggleborns, and that he frequently hung out with more Slytherins than Ravenclaws. In all reality, he had nothing against half-blood wizards (unless half of their blood was non-human), but he had to keep up appearances.

Jack looked up from the couch, his eyes narrowed at the Ravenclaw. It took a moment, but he recognized this guy from the common room a few times, and constantly hanging with the Slytherin lot. He was a wannabe. Jack sat up, his eyebrows raised at the third year.

"Yeah, kiddo, there once was a time where I cared. But it passed. Like a kidney stone that just resorted to the ways of a turd nugget."

He used that metaphor a little to often. But this kid hadn't once heard it, so he figured it would be good. He took a quick glance at the boy. He didn't seem like much, could probably hold his own in a duel. Jack than spun around on his butt, his heels pressed against the ground. He coughed again, than sniffed. He was really considering going to the Hospital Wing for once. The only times he had gone were when he was either unconscious, or had broken a limb.

It was Howl's turn to raise an eyebrow at Jack. That was probably the most unusual metaphor he ever heard of, and when you were a Ravenclaw, metaphors could get pretty unusual (some Ravenclaws could be a little obnoxious about it). "You probably oughtta get that checked out. The last thing we need around here is a bunch of sick Ravenclaws, myself, included." He went back to his room after a moment and came back with a book. He plopped down on a chair (far away from Jack) and opened it up to read it.

"If it is what I think it is, it'll pass. It's probably influenza or something of the like."

Bloody Hell, it better be influenza! He thought crossly, the symptoms not like influenza at all. Maybe a common house cold or something. He bet it was uncooked meat or something in the food. Or maybe he stepped outside in a colder weather, in shorts again. He didn't doubt that it was just that. Jack sighed, cracking his fingers loudly again, and looked around. He stood up, and walked to the side of the common room, than up the stairs.

Jack returned moments later with his books, and a roll of parchment, with some twizlers in his pocket. He plopped back down on the couch, spreading his books around. Than, looking up at Howl, he asked,

"What book is that? Muggle or Wizard?"

Howl looked up from the book, a very annoyed glare on his face, and his raspy voice seemed to hiss in displeasure. "As though, I'd be in possession of something so moronic as a Muggle book." He sneered a little. "As a pure-blooded wizard, I have standards... unlike SOME people." He held up the book. "It's an in-depth book about Gamp's laws of elemental transfiguration. It's a very fascinating read. My mother was a Gamp, you know." His fingers seemed to twitch a little... or well, all nine of his fingers since his ring finger, of course, was missing.

Jack took that as a personal offense. Being Part Muggle, from his REAL father he was a wizard. He grew up reading Muggle books, and they were a lot better in his opinion. With wizard books, there was not as much creativity and imagination in them. Because muggles weren't aware of the fact that they lived around a fantasy, they resorted to making everything up, from dragons to wizards. It was amazing.

Jack was liking this guy less and less with every word. Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration? WHo the Bloodly Hell reads that stuff by choice? He couldn't think of a single person. This guy was a bit boring.

"Gamp? I choose not to hear much bout'em. And not to sounds harsh or anything, but I really don't care about the Gamps."

Jack was blunt, and about as harsh as a piece of glass. He didn't beat around the edges, unless he truly cared about hurting someones feelings.

Howl could tell he had struck a nerve with Jack and only smirked in reply. In all honesty, he actually kind of missed Muggle books as he had always been an avid reader, and he'd always particularly enjoyed historical fiction, but picking up a Muggle book now would surely blow his cover and perhaps subject him to ridicule... and he didn't even want to think about what the Dark Followers would try to do to him.

"You should at least care about Gamp's laws, if you care anything about Transfiguration. Those laws ARE pretty important to know. As for whether you care or not about my family, well, that's your choice. I don't personally care about my family members, particularly considering my father was an idiot who got himself killed, and my mother took off somewhere, but I would be lying if I didn't say being a pure-blooded wizard doesn't have its advantages."

"How do you not care about your family?"

Jack asked hoarsely. He stared at Howl, confused. This boy was extremely strange. He figured this guy was the most like a Slytherin than anyone else he know that wasn't in Slytherin. He was just so cold... so heartless. He valued information to much, which equally made him a Ravenclaw. While Ravenclaws were generally wise, smart, and witty, and knowledge hungry, it differed in what ways or kinds of knowledge that you had that made you a true Ravenclaw. Everyone thought it was basic knowledge, easy formulas and many different areas of brains. But it didn't lie in the intellectual stuff only. It could rely on witt, genes, street-smarts, anything.

"I still never got your name."

Howl was a little taken aback by the sudden question but recovered quickly. "Pretty easily, actually. I'm sure the feeling is/was mutual." Of that he had little doubt. He didn't even wonder if his mother was looking for him. He was certain she wasn't.

"I'm surprised you haven't heard of me. I'm Howl Blishwick... and you're..." Howl seemed to pause a moment, considering the sick boy in front of him. "Jack Kubin, correct? I think you might be a sixth year student, and you're half-blood." He turned a page in his book, looking pretty nonchalant. "Don't be too surprised. I make it a point to know everybody in this school.... even the unimportant people." He had thought about adding "like you" but thought he'd leave that unsaid. "Names, blood status, popularity level, and if they have any connections to anyone important. And I keep it all stored in a little black book which I consult from time to time." Blatant lies all of it. While he did make it a point to know most of the people in his House, he didn't know everyone in the school. He couldn't, there were just too many students, and he had better things to do. Still, he enjoyed talking big. If he could get people to focus only all the other lies he told, he could distract their attention from the biggest lie of all.