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Elias smirked as she huffed again, solidifying the point that he was making. “You did it again” he argued back. Thankfully the thirteen year old didn’t actually have the ability to see Thestrals and was only going by what he had read in books and his imagination. There would be no need to feel sorry for him in that department.
‘Is that why you have no friends?’
It might have sounded harsh and abrasive to the innocent onlooker but the question was exactly what Elias needed to hear. The reason behind having very few ‘friends’ was entirely of his own accord. And he might’ve made himself out to look as if he didn’t care, that having friends would only be a distraction to achieving his perfect goals, that others were beneath him and therefore ‘unworthy’ of his time, but for a brief second if she were to look closely Billie might have spotted a flicker of an emotion that wasn’t distaste on the second years face. Was it.. hurt?
As quickly as it arrived, the emotion was rapidly brushed off and replaced with one of disinterest. “I don’t need friends” he retorted. What he needed, or at least what he thought he needed, was to live up to the expectations of a very powerful grandfather. Elias wasn’t the eldest, he didn’t have a family business to fall back on if he was unable to achieve anything less than perfect. What he needed was to be g r e a t and having a vivid social life didn’t align to that aspiration. “You don’t need to be liked in order to be powerful.” Which was true. Being liked would mean putting others before oneself which in his opinion prevented growth. There was many a powerful Wizard throughout history whose ambition outstripped the desire to be around others. Ironically Elias didn’t ACTUALLY like to be on his own, he was from a large family after all, but found that his patience was worn thin when he was.
He could’ve also grown to like Billie. She sassed him back in ways that most other girls didn’t. She was confident and bold and it was somewhat impressive to the Slytherin and could quite easily earn his respect. That was until she called him Ellie and the look that he gave her was akin to a Basilisk’s stare. “Elias.” he hissed, tempted to grab at his wand and send a Bat Bogey Hex in her direction but hesitating when another student passed by the nearby vicinity. Anything else she had said was ignored in the frustration of the name calling.
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