Just a girl

The fire was dying by the time everyone had cleared out of the common room. Beckett had completed his charms essay and was lying on one of the ancient decorative rugs, distractedly playing football. He had a habit of stealing them after games; four years of football has produced a small collection.

It was late, too late for him to logically still be up, but it was a Wednesday night, and Athena always had Transfiguration homework due in her first class Thursday morning. If he was candid with himself, he enjoyed the arrangement of the late-night meeting with Athena. It never mattered what kind of day he had been having; he looked forward to seeing her around her. It was something about being around Athena that made him suddenly feel wide awake. Maybe it was the way that she was more intelligent than him or how she never boasted about it, never addressed it; she just was. She kept him on his toes, he never knew what she would say or do next, and he liked it. He liked her. I truly liked Athena; he wanted her captivating emerald green eyes and her pouty lips…

The dying fire spat a little, causing Beckett to snap out of his contemplative and semi-crude thoughts. Sitting up, he shook off the drowsiness that threatened to swallow him whole. An unusual spot of purple appeared in the corner of his eye, causing him to spin around, startled. Athena stood in the hallway of the hallway leading to the girls' dorms, clad in violet flannel pajamas, her hair loose over her shoulders and her face clean of makeup. She smiled shyly as if embarrassed to be caught staring.

"Hey," she mumbled, swiftly walking towards him softly on bare feet. Instead of taking one of the more obviously more comfortable seats in the room, Athena sank beside Beckett on the floor. Her arms were packed with a battered textbook in one cape and her wand in the other hand. Beckett fidgeted nervously, running a hand through his hair as Athena's knee knocked into his carelessly.

For Christ's sake to get it together, Beckett thought to himself angrily. She's just a girl.

"Mrs. Summers is making us turn books into crows," Athena said, pouting.

Mrs. Summers is the Transfiguration teacher here at Beacon Academy. She is charming, but Athena likes all of her teachers, the teachers' pet. Athena has always had trouble with transfiguration; she is number one in every other class but this one.

"And I'm terrible at it. All I can do is make them squeal." She gave the book a scathing glare.

Beckett chuckled. "Because, as usual, you're overthinking it," he replied, effortlessly turning the book into a glossy black bird with a flick of his wand. It did a little hop as if about to take flight, and Beckett quickly switched it back. The book thudded to the ground solidly.

"Show off," Athena grumbled. She flicked her wand at the book in an imitation of what Beckett had done, making it jump off the floor with a loud screech. A single black feather drifted down beside it.

"What were you thinking about just then?" Beckett asked. Athena frowned in annoyance at the useless question.

"I don't know! I was just thinking about doing that spell!" She kicked the book viciously. "Wand technique, pronunciation-"

"That's your problem," interrupted Beckett. "You're thinking about how to do the spell when what you need to be doing is visualizing it happening. Accio." The book flew into his hand, and he handed it to her with a smile.

"Try it again, but this time, focus on imagining the book transforming into the crow. It'll happen. You just need to be the catalyst."

Athena swallowed hard, nervous about having him watching her so closely. Squeezing her eyes shut, and imagined a glossy, oil-slick blackbird rising from the book. Beckett let out a triumphant laugh, and Athena's eyes snapped open. She blinked a couple of times at the bird in front of her, making sure it was real. The shock in her voice was obvious, even to her. "I did it."

"Yeah!" Beckett cheered quietly, grinning proudly at her. The bird changed back with a wave of his wand, and Athena smiled happily.

"That's fantastic! Summers can suck it," she giggled. "Thanks, Kramer." Beckett looked at her strangely, silent for a moment. "Sure, Quinn," he finally replied. The room was still and quiet; the flames in the fireplace were no longer dancing but flicking pathetically as they died.

"Um," Athena started, clearing her throat awkwardly. "How's your class going?"

"Mmm," he mumbled, shrugging. "Summoning your inner being is pretty easy. Same basic principle as Transfiguration. Imagination is more important than knowledge in both, you know?"

"Ugh. Of course, you would find them easy," said Athena bitterly. "I've been working on mine for weeks, and I'm still struggling."

Beckett laughed at that. "Well? You going to show me or what?" He nudged her playfully. Athena wondered when they had gotten to where their relationship was in a Jeckyl and Hyde state. They could be perfectly civil, occasionally even flirty during the nights, when it was just the two of them, and they were exhausted from classes. Still, the days, however, were another story entirely. They went from civil to civil war in the space of a few hours, and Beckett delighted in teasing Athena at every turn. Not necessarily in a cruel way, but she wanted to throw her textbook at his head most of the time. That evening, though … that split second in the shadowy hallway, she had thought he was going to kiss her. And she would have let him. It didn't make sense, of course, and yet, there was a tiny, hidden part of her that had wanted him to kiss her. And Athena wasn't ready to deal with that part of her yet. So she put it on mute and ignored it.

"Fine," she said grudgingly. "I'll show you." Athena closed her eyes again, her brow furrowed in concentration, and her cheeks pink as she held her breath, exhaling with her words. "Creaturae ex se."

A stream of silver mist shot out of the end of her wand, closely followed by a massive, pure white shape, taller than she was when standing, but not by much. It glowed softly in the dim common room, posed as if ready to flee at the first sign of danger—a shimmering, elegant mustang. Athena stood and walked to the side of her magnificent mustang. As soon as she touched his snout, it disappeared into thin air.

Beckett was pretty sure he had stopped breathing. His lips were parted slightly, and goosebumps had sprung up all over his body. Your inner being is the animal spirit representing your soul, the person you are deep down. Any two people rarely have the same spirit because it means they are soul mates. Beckett had just realized that he and Athena's spirits were precisely the same.

"Well?" Athena asked, turning and walking back to where Beckett was sitting. He snapped out of his stunned reaction quickly, blinking several times to clear his head. "What do you think?" Athena inquired, sitting back down next to him. Beckett cleared his throat, fidgeting uncomfortably.

"I think it's… a pony," he replied. Athena rolled her eyes. "It's a mustang," she shot back. "Which is bigger? What… ?" Beckett said, poking fun at Athena. "Pony." Athena spat in annoyance. Beckett grinned, letting his usual arrogant facade slide back into place, his mind still racing, trying to throw off suspicion. Athena shrugged, setting her wand down and pulling her knees to hug them to her little body.

"Whatever," she said. "You turn, Kramer." Athena raised her eyebrows expectantly at him. Beckett gulped nervously, his skin prickling with heat as his stomach flipped. "I-uh," he stammered. "I'd better be … getting to bed. Tucker, today, he … uh, thought of this play we could try out, and he promised to wake me up at like, five in the morning to go down to the field." he shrugged, as if embarrassed for the inconvenience. "I'll have to show you some other time." Athena pouted a little, disappointed. "Kay. Some other time then." Beckett nodded vigorously in agreement, leaping to his feet and grabbing Athena's hand to help her up with him. She tried not to let him see the pink glow that spread over her cheeks at the innocent gesture. Beckett dropped her hand reluctantly, walking her over to the same doorway she had been standing in earlier.

The night's end was always awkward, but Beckett had a particularly fierce hatred for it, purely because he didn't like that his time with Athena was over. It was borrowed time, and he knew it, but Beckett couldn't help but look forward to his nights with her. They were the only times when she was just… Athena. She spoke to him softly, sometimes cheekily, without any scorn or mocking in her voice or expression. Her eyes held nothing but friendliness, and Beckett wondered about the possibilities that coursed through his mind in the hours after they had both gone to bed. He bit his lip as she spun around to look him in the eyes, the green in hers barely visible in the dark.

"Night, Kramer," she murmured. She was shorter than him. Much shorter, but Beckett found it likable, somehow. Her size didn't reflect her personality. The only thing about her that matched it was her hair, as fiery as her temper, yet still soft to anyone that she let close enough to her.

"Night, Quinn," he responded with a crooked grin, turning to leave before she did. He hated watching her walk away.

Beckett opened the door of the dormitory quietly, wincing as it creaked the tiniest bit. He stripped off his shirt and tossed it carelessly onto his trunk at the end of his bed, falling onto his bed with a ridiculous grin plastered to his face. His glasses found their way to his bedside table, and he closed his eyes, Athena's blushing face remaining in his vision. It was a mustang. Mustang, a perfect match to his. They were a pair. But Beckett was determined to keep her from finding out. It would embarrass her too much. But the thought of her knowing, of realizing that they matched…

Beckett sighed, one final, barely formed thought resonating in his head as she fell asleep.

She's not mine.