Quote:
Originally Posted by
AlexandraRamos 
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Ah. So it was officially confirmed. It is Wesley. He saw her full face when she pulled her arm away from her face before bringing it back again to shield her from the smell. Haha. Girls. They really are quite sensitive, aren't they? They can't even handle the smell of dungbombs.
It was really rather funny, to watch them both. If they didn't want to endure the smell, they should really just follow his advice and leave the scene of the crime. Honestly. How many times did he have to say it?
...Why is Wesley so shocked that it was him that threw the dungbomb? He thought it would have been the logical conclusion. After all, his pockets have been stuffed with candy and dungbombs for as long as he could remember. They're his two favourite things. Well, that is if you count cupcakes and food in the same category as candy.
Ooh, and the colour pink. And green. And flowers
But really. Wesley shouldn't be so shocked. Tilting his head in confusion at her, he didn't respond. He wondered if she was faking shock or if she honestly didn't think that Jimbo would throw a dungbomb.
But then the answer was clear.
Blinking, Jimbo was at a loss for words. "You are friends with Monty, right?" There is no way that someone could be such good friends with Monty and not know that Jimbo was a dungbomb thrower. Not because it's something that he just figured people would mention because it was one of the main things about him, but mostly just to mention it as a warning.
Because if even people he didn't know aren't safe, why should people he know consider themselves home free?
"Uhm, Huffie Prefect Wesley?" He needed to clear some things up.
But just as he finished saying it, he realized that he probably shouldn't.
Darn. Why did everyone he know have to go and become a prefect? It's hard being Jimbo Farley and being friends with a prefect.
Well. The only way out of this was to deny, deny, deny.
"I hate to turn the tables on your friend here, but she seems to be trying to frame me. Obviously, I'd never throw a dungbomb. What kind of lunatic would I be if I did that?" Shield his nose for effect. "Really. The smell is terrible. I would never dare to set off something so malodorous."
Sniffle, sniffle. Aaaand a cringe. "You believe me, don't you, Wesley?"
Having been around Iris's group often enough to understand Jimbo-lango (though not long enough, to, obviously, understand other aspects of the Slytherin boy), Wesley translated his question without even blinking.
"Of course," she answered, mirroring Jimbo's own confused face,
"Iris and I've been friends since our first year. Why do you ask?"
Really; it was an incredibly out-of-place question to ask. First because they were talking about dungbombs, and secondly, because he knew the answer.
"Are you feeling okay?" Wesley reached out a small hand, stepping on her tiptoes to touch his forehead ... needless-to-say, she was off by a good couple
inches feet.
Struggling to check his temperature, the sixth year mentally urged him to bend over, but then -
Huffie Prefect?
For the first time, Wesley realized, or at least thought she realized, why Torin had told her to drop the Prefect title before his name. It felt, like they weren't friends anymore - like there was a difference between them, when in reality there was none.
"Please, you don't-," Her request was cut short, however, as suddenly picked up where he left up. Or rather, sort-of, changed topics? Wait, no, returned to the topic at hand.
A little bewildered by Jimbo's shifting moods, Wesley listened attentively.
Oh! Oh poor Jimbo! She understood perfectly, and her little face crumpled with concern,
"I believe you, Jimbo! But, Anastasia, she wasn't trying to frame you. No, no, she was just confused. She's a good girl, really, honestly! She's one of my best friends! Oh, don't cry Jimbo! Don't cry, it's alright. Nobody's going to put you in detention!"
Pulling a clean, pressed handkerchief out of her pocket, Wesley offered it to the Slytherin.
"It's all just a bit of confusion. See, I'll fix it,"
She unplugged her nose, using the now free hand to unholster her wand and directed it towards the offending pile of brown. Forming a small circle with a twist of her wrist, Wesley whispered,
"Evanesco."
Just like that, the dungbomb vanished, leaving behind only an overpowering stench.
"There," she offered him a small, comforting smile. No need to tell Jimbo that now the dungbomb was, well, sort-of inside them all. Wesley'd pull it back into being later, when she could dispose of it properly.
Quote:
Originally Posted by
Bellanina Anastasia was confused the sleep was getting to her, mybe it wasn't him of course she didn't exactly see him throw the dungbomb so it could have been someone else. Right? Her Lac of sleep could be playing with her head. And the smell! so foul who would be hallucinating.
However he was the only one in the hallway when she looked over who else would it be.
Look what a bit of extra studying can do to one.
Anastasia had a strong feeling it was him, a matter of fact she new it was him but how could she get him to confess in front of the prefect.
"Look I don't mean to blame this on anyone, but there was no one else around here you were the one sneaking around.." Anastasia said in a calm voice. She had managed to calm down and was going to get to the bottom of this in a calm manner.. or at least try.
"Just because you didn't see anyone else, doesn't mean no one else was around. They could've been under an invisibility cloak or using a disillusionment charm," the Hufflepuff replied, equally calm, while reholstering her wand,
"If Jimbo wasn't telling the truth, that'd mean he'd be lying. And lying is bad, and Jimbo is a good boy. He doesn't lie."