Traitor {Arden}

[Logan Andrews]

I'd been sitting in the very top of the stands for a long while now. So long my hands had started to go numb with cold and sitting where I was, so far back into the corner so as not to be seen was starting to ache. If I remembered correctly, Arden played quidditch.
So, finding out what time her teams practice was and making sure I was here was hardly intellectually challenging. I'd waited for practice to finish so I could talk to her on my own and without an audience. No audience would probably wish to see this conversation.
Of it's own accord, my fists curled around my wand in my pocket, although I hoped I wouldn't lose control and use it. I still didn't want to hurt her, but if she wanted to be stubbornly stupid enough to make friends with Christopher, then she had to reminded this was a bad idea. She had to be reminded that it was me she was loyal to, not him.
Who'd helped her all those years? Protected her? Avenged her? Me. Certainly not Chris.
I sink back slightly further into the corner, eyes narrowed against the bitter sting of wind this high up, but more so because of the bitter sting of being betrayed. No one betratyed me.

[Arden Patricks]

Way to go Arden... let the stupid bludger knock your own teammate's face off, I grumble to myself as I walk across the pitch, still stewng over all the dumb mistakes I'd made today.
Shaking my head and looking to the sky, I notice someone sitting way up at the top of the bleachers, and I pause. Whoever it is doesn't look like they want to be seen....
Which might mean they're upset, I think logically, frowning with concern as I start to climb the stands, making my way over.
And crusader Arden strikes again, says the bitter voice in my head, but I ignore it. Someone else's problems might help take my mind off my own, sillier ones.

[Logan Andrews]

I watch her make her way up the stands towards me, for once not bothering to initiate the conversation.
It didn't make all that much sense to me, why she'd be approaching me. There was no way she could tell who I was, and there was no way she'd approach a random stranger, not with her paranoia.
No, that's how she used to be. Now, you have no idea; she could be the most social creature around here for all you know.
No. She's Arden.
I force a bitter laugh as soon as she's within earshot, "What brings you all the way up here?"

[Arden Patricks]

I'm concentrating too much on my feet to take a look at whoever the hell it is I'm walking toward, so when I hear his voice I freeze.
Not who I expected.
I look up at him and open my mouth to speak, except I don't know what to say. All the conversations I've had lately are racing through my head, from Morgan's ability to crack my conviction to Chris-Ian's apology.
"Don't let anyone make up your mind for you."
I nod, and look at Logan again, eying him cautiously. "Hey," I say, not really in response to whatever it was he said to me.

[Logan Andrews]

"Oh yeah...yeah...hey," I repeat scathingly, eyes narrowing at her slightly as I shift slightly into a more comfortable position, leaning back against the back of the stands casually and twirling my wand between my fingers.
I don't say anything for a moment, just watching the smooth wood move between my hands as if it had a mind of it's own, "Saw you at practice. You bombed. Seriously. Swear I heard your teammates face crack," I remark coolly, "You seem distracted, if I'm not mistaken."

[Arden Patricks]

Oooo-kay. He's mad at me. What the hell did I do? I watch the movement of the wand for a bit, feeling mildly scared, then wincing slightly at his stinging comments.
"Been distracted for a while now," I shrug, folding my arms tightly and looking down a moment. "Been a lot on my mind." I pause, biting my lip, but then I have to say it. "Logan... are you mad? What... did... did I do something wrong?" Or are you just in a bad mood?

[Logan Andrews]

"Am I mad?" I repeat to myself, loud enough for her to hear, "I don't know, what do I think? Am I mad? Well, I'd say there was reason to be mad here, wouldn't you?"
I glance back up at her, "Yes, I am mad. Utterly and completely, in every sense of the word."
I stop moving my wand, raising it slightly to my line of vision, running a forefinger over a scratch in the wood and trying to smooth it over which unsurprisingly doesn't work, and I make a soft tutting 'oh dear' sort of noise in the back of my throat.

[Arden Patricks]

I eye him cautiously, unknowingly backing up a bit. I don't remember ever being scared of him before... but there is definitely something not-quite-right going on in his head.
"L-logan?" I say, instantly wishing that my voice didn't shake. "Logan... what did I do? What's going on?"
Then it hits me. You're an idiot... maybe he found out that you're all friendly-like with some of his biggest enemies.
I shake my head. No, that can't be it... can it?

[Logan Andrews]

"Christopher Fucking Hunt is what's wrong," I tilt my head to one side, glaring out at the quidditch pitch, "Although I assume you already knew just how wrong he is, I mean you two are all friendly and all."
I put a large amount of nasty and unnecessary emphasis on the word 'friendly'.
"Fraternizing with the enemy...the one who tortured you no less..." I add after a heartbeat's pause, "Does that not seem just a little bit completely fucked to you?"

[Arden Patricks]

I flinch just a little at his angry tone, eyes dropping to the stands. After a moment I start to shake my head, pause, and then finish the gesture. "No more so than me being friends with you," I say quietly, looking up. "I... if you want me to hate him, then I'll have to hate you, too. I don't really know the story, but you two don't seem that different."
There's something slightly pleading in my tone, as I struggle to keep it non-accusatory, and a part of me cannot believe that I'm saying this to him, while another part can't believe how placating I'm being.

[Logan Andrews]

I'm on my feet with no memory of standing, fists curled not just around my wand, drawing myself to my full height.
"We are nothing alike," I hiss.

[Arden Patricks]

I step back a bit, my eyes going wide as I look at his wand cautiously. I swallow slowly and then manage to shake my head.
"No, I guess you're not," I say shakily, then can't manage to finish the thought.
He wasn't so offended at being compared to you, or half as quick to anger.

[Logan Andrews]

"Is that what you think Arden?" I growl, "You think I'm anything like him? Because that's not true. He's beneath contempt, although I'm sure you don't think that from what I've heard. Quite friendly, aren't you?"

[Arden Patricks]

"Yes, I guess we are," I snap without half-realizing, temper getting the best of me. It's been awhile since I yelled at anyone, most especially Logan. "And I really don't see what's so different, unless you'd care to enlighten me."

[Logan Andrews]

My wand hand twitches slightly but I restrain myself.
"Do you know what I really don't see? I really don't see what gives you the right to ask me that. Are you on his side or mine? Cos you can't be on both," I snap back.

[Arden Patricks]

I can't come up with a response to that that doesn't sound childishly stupid, so I glare at him a minute, hand clenched although my wand is in my pocket... and a tiny dose of fear starts working its way into the anger once again. "I... ih... he..." My mouth moves for a bit but I don't know what I'm trying to say, so I close my eyes a moment and take a deep breath.
"Doesn't being your friend give me some right to question you? What about Will?" The question blurts itself out before I can even consider stopping it, and my voice starts to shake again. "D-d-did... did you kill your brother Logan?" I ask, looking up at him and willing to hear the truth this time even if it's a yes.

[Logan Andrews]

"Being my friend means you'd respect my wish not to be questioned, as I'd respect yours," I reply in a low but vaguely sinister voice.
The question takes me completely by surprise, and it takes me a full three and a half seconds to recover, and react accordingly. My eyes narrow slightly, "Oh come now, Arden. Dear William had it coming."

[Arden Patricks]

I shake my head, feeling sick and suddenly having to sit down, leaving me on a set of bleachers about two levels below his, looking up at him.
"And exactly what'd he do?" I ask the floor beneath my feet.
Oh, or the love of Merlin, Arden... you accepted that weeks ago when you talked to Morgan. How can it possibly be a surprise?

[Logan Andrews]

"Blood traitor scum, Arden!" I exclaim, "My own brother! Turning his back on me, on our family, on what he is! That is not right! And then to top it all off he gets involved with and knocks up some mudblood slut...he was not my brother anymore when he died. And it came down to him or me, and I pick him anyday because I am not dying anytime soon."
You sound like a child.
It's the only way to explain it.
You still sound like a child.

[Arden Patricks]

I look at him with disgust so deep I couldn't conceal it if I was trying, and I slowly shake my head.
"I am so fucking naive not to realize you thought that," I say with a short, unamused laugh. "I... I can't...." I laugh again. "Would you do the same to me? 'Cause my family disowned me as a traitor and... and one of my best friends is a mudblood? Would you do the same to me?"

[Logan Andrews]

"We are pure Arden or have you forgotten that?" My voice is rising angrily as I speak and I can't really seem to control it anymore, "Of course I wouldn't do the same t-..." I stop, Would I? No, of course not. Don't be stupid.

[Arden Patricks]

"And why does that even matter?" I ask scathingly. "Purebloods are inbred, didn't you know? That's why so darn many of us wind up with squibs in our families or lose all our marbles like you have."
I swallow and go pale after I say this, fully expecting a less-than-pleasant reaction, especially if he couldn't even finish a sentence saying that he wouldn't kill me.

[Logan Andrews]

It takes me only a moment to realise I've been spoken back to, accused of being inbred and having 'lost my marbles' before my eyes narrow slightly.
"Crucio!" The word's left my mouth before I've even really considered what I'm doing, jet of light soaring from my wand that I hadn't realised I'd raised.

[Arden Patricks]

I scream once as the curse hits me, instinctively trying to curl up as if that could make a difference as to how much it hurts... especially when, in addition to the excruciating pain of the curse itself, I feel like somebody just squeezed my heart to make it pop. Not a pleasant sensation.

[Logan Andrews]

A large part of me would like to stop, throw my wand away and vow never to use it again, apologise, make things right again and become an all round better and more complete person.
But it's the large part of my conscience that often goes ignored as the smaller more viscious is much more dominant.
"You need to learn, Arden," I tell her, voice hard and betraying nothing of the inner conflict that was raging in my head, "There are some people you can't say things like that too. Maybe you should just stop saying things like that all together."

[Arden Patricks]

He's exactly right, a voice says sharply as I squeeze my eyes shut against the continuing pain. You're too bloody mouthy and you know it.
But it's true.... another voice says insistently over the top of the other's last few words, along with the unspoken argument that he should not be doing this, lesson or not.
You called him psychotic and inbred, Arden! How was he supposed to react? And he's doing you a favor to be teaching you this lesson before you go and say that kind of thing to someone else, someone else who's not your friend.
Of course the majority of my brain is occupied by pain, with the two silly voices - one sounding like me in my more motherly moods, the other more uncertain with an unconvincing argument - barely making an impact. But the motherly one makes sense, doesn't it? Logan wouldn't hurt me unless I deserved it, or unless he was saving me from something worse... like tackling someone and breaking their arm to get them out of the way of a speeding muggle car.
I give a jerky sort of nod, eyes still closed and still curled up, trying to force my mouth to move. I’m sorry…. I’m sorry, Logan, really. I don’t know what came over me….

[Logan Andrews]

Cold hearted evil sick twisted sadistic fuck! Some voice or another screams at me inside my own head.
So? That's never bothered you before.
It's different, you idiot!
How?
It's Arden!
SO?
I falter for a moment, before deciding there just is no arguing with that logic, then lower my wand again, looking down at her as if what I'd just done hadn't bothered me at all.
"Wise move," I remark coolly, "Next time, I, or whoever else you cross, may not be so lenient."

[Arden Patricks]

I nod again, quickly, hardly daring to believe that it's finally over as I sit up very shakily.
He is absolutely right and he didn't really mean it. He would never hurt you, says the first voice very quickly before the other can mount a counterargument.
"I... I'm sorry," I whisper very quietly.

[Logan Andrews]

I shrug in response to her apology, then watch her expressionlessly for a heartbeat more, before shoving my wand in my back pocket, then offering her a hand.

[Arden Patricks]

I look at his hand warily as though it might be coated with poison, still shaking just noticeably.
Go on, you idiot, take it. He's saying that he's sorry that he had to be so harsh.
I shake my head and look up at him, still seeing his angry face superimposed on whatever expression he's wearing now. I close my eyes and shake my head again, still ignoring his hand.
"I'm sorry," I say, just a little louder than the last time.