Howler to Sylar

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

After treating Susan, Lily felt it her duty, as a Professor, to take care of a little matter. A school owl was sent out, then, posthaste.



Mr. Sylar ~

It has come to my attention that you have felt the need to RIP OPEN OTHER STUDENT'S HEADS IN ORDER TO ATTACK THEIR BRAINS.

THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE BEHAVIOUR. YOU WILL CEASE AND DESIST ANY AND ALL BRAIN-SEEKING ACTIVITIES IMMEDIATELY.

DO NOT DOUBT THAT YOUR STAY HERE WILL BE UNPLEASANT IF YOU INSIST ON CONTINUING IN THIS MANNER. IT IS NOT POLITE TO ATTEMPT TO STEAL YOUR PEERS' BRAINS. IF YOU ARE LACKING IN BRAINS, YOURSELF, THIS IS NOT THE WAY TO GO ABOUT PROCURING SOME OF YOUR OWN.

AS A CONSEQUENCE OF YOUR ACTIONS, I AM TAKING FIFTY POINTS FROM BITCHIWITCH AND ASSIGNING YOU A WEEK OF DETENTIONS.

Arrive in my office at six pm, sharp. I will give you your assignment at that time.

~ Professor Evans
Defense Against the Dark Arts

Comments

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

So little Susan had little friends in very high places, hmm? Sylar watched the Howler burst into flames and flutter across the floor of his dormitory, eyebrow cocked in a highly curious manner. Interesting. Letters. Delivered by an owl. That shouted at you. Literally.

This school got more interesting by the minute.

A week of detention, hmm? Six o'clock? He could do that. "Best do what teacher says," he murmured under his breath, eyes flickering across the smoldering remains of his Howler on the floor. "It would be a shame to upset her any more." The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, even. Sounded fascinating. A challenge, perhaps?

Who was The Clash (http://www.oneposter.com/UserData/Poster/Poster_14718.jpg)? He'd no clue. But he was wearing the t-shirt, over a long-sleeved tee, strolling down the hallway towards her office and picking at a bag of Sour Patch Kids. Sure, it was so incredibly Zane Taylor, but if it had fooled a geneticist... well. He didn't even bother with a letter back. Just went for her office. Six sharp.

He stopped outside her door, clearing his throat and taking a moment to let his features slip into something incredibly not Sylar. Jeans? Candy? A nervous look to his face as he anxiously rapped his knuckles against the door? Who would ever suspect little old him to do anything wrong?

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

This should be interesting. Waving her hand at the door, it opened. Her desk was piled high with books, and Lily was bent over one, writing notes. She didn't say a word, simply gestured to one of her chairs, which slid out to accommodate him. She'd been practicing her wandless magic since Voldemort's last anti-climatic return. It was a useful skill to have, particularly if some idiot wanker was going to go about, ripping open people's heads.

She didn't appear to pay Sylar any attention at all. But her mind was completely closed off, her Occlumency training being brought into full bear, and Lily was scrutinizing Sylar intently. Making metal notes. Drawing conclusions. Asking questions. Finally, after several long moments of silence, Lily set down her quill and raised her eyes fully to Sylar's. Eye contact was necessary for Legimancy, but Lily had no intention of trying to probe the boy's mind. Not yet.

"Mr. Sylar," she said, expression cold and reproving, tone cultured into a blend of disapproval and disappointment. "I hear you've not been making a very good start here at Hogwarts. Would you care to explain yourself?"

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

Sylar's eyes rested for a few, long seconds onto the door frame as the thing swung open, only flickering once to Lily before landing back onto the frame. He had to resist the urge to quirk an amused grin. Was she telekinetic too? Was this school really as swimming with people with abilities as he'd initially hoped? Maybe even moreso.

The chair slid out then and, yes, she had to have had some manner of mental skill to aid her; she hadn't said a word to make that chair slide out. Interesting. He started towards Lily, fingers nervous crinkling the bag of Sour Patch Kids as he sat in the provided chair, gaze darting to and fro. When had he gotten so good at playing the part? Watchmakers didn't exactly get the most practice in pretending to be someone they weren't. Watchmakers kind of just wore the same sweater vest for three days in a row and sat in the same chair all day. They didn't need to impress. They just needed to fix the damn watch.

Lily was looking up towards him. Sylar let his gaze skitter, nervously.

So Lily Evans. Teacher, so she'd have spent a lot of her time sorting through students' lies. Obviously close to Susan, considering it hadn't even taken an entire day for her to have given him a week's worth of detention. The question was just how much Susan had told her? Just how close she was to Susan. Who knew what the woman would have left out? He'd have to test, here, and figure out just to what extreme he could fool Lily Evans. First thing was first, though. Name. Hmm? Sylar? Who was he? He'd have to remedy that.

"Oh, I'm not..." He set the bag of candy onto the desk, with the kind of air that screamed that he wasn't sure if he was allowed to, inching his chair in a little closer to Lily. His mind flickered back to her Howler for a minute, searching for a false name, and without missing a beat, he wiped his hands on his jeans and thrust one out for her to shake. "Evan Sharp?"

Conveniently distracting from the attempted brain-stealing, for the time being.

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

Not true. That was the first lie he'd given her, Lily was quite sure of it. Susan had said 'Sylar', had said that was the name given to her at the Sorting. So either 'Sylar' was false, or 'Evan Sharp' was. Or both - and at the moment, she was leaning towards that possibility. Simply because it was best to assume that every word was false until she had time to probe further.

But this is what she'd done for four years, with people who were far more suspicious than Sylar could ever be. She arched an eyebrow at the candy and, without hesitation, reached forward to shake 'Evan's' hand. "Mr. Sharp," she amended, nodding. "Do you care to explain why you felt the need to attack another student?"

Lily, too, was playing a part. She was a professor, now, a bit too busy to be bothered with this nonsense. Someone who was not a confident, but a person of authority. Sylar had broken the rules. Apparently, this was all Lily was interested in. There was too much at stake, here, and Lily was bringing all her skill into play. And she was very good at what she did. Sylar was in league with Evil Clowns, she was almost positive. But now she just needed proof.

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

Wow. Forward. Sylar's mouth tugged into a bit of a nervous smile as he shook Lily's hand in his own. He leaned back in his chair, looking halfway between put-off and a little freaked out by this new development. No beating around the bush amongst the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors of Hogwarts, apparently. No matter. Sylar may have been a man for small talk, and drawing away from the subject, but... did Evan Sharp have to be?

"I didn't..." Hmm... not the best method. New approach. "Before. You mentioned Sylar," he replied hesitantly, tugging compulsively at the end of his shirt sleeves and widening his eyes to Lily with a kind of fear tinted within them. "Why?" He sat up a bit straighter, breath sucking into a bit of a hiss. Oh, he'd best get the Emmy for this performance. He was getting good at this game. "Was someone attacked? By Sylar?"

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

What? Really? This was the game Sylar was going to play? Oh, for Merlin's sake...

Heaving a slight, impatient breath, Lily leaned back and raised one eyebrow. "Yes. Ironically enough, I then owled Sylar to have him come to my office at precisely six o'clock. An owl that could only have been read by him. My office hours officially ended at four. So, are you going to continue to insult both of our intelligence by pretending you are not the student calling himself 'Sylar', or shall we continue this charade?"

Leaning forward, Lily's eyes flashed dangerously. "I warn you, Mr. Sharp," her tone was low and threatening; the sound of barely restrained power and a temper under tenuous control, "there are few people in this castle that you should have no desire to muck about with. I am one of them. So, let's try this again, shall we? Why the bloody hell did you attack a student?"

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

He could have kept it up. It wasn't that difficult, to maintain that nervous, 'golly gee, really?' sort of exterior, mixed in with the sleeve-tugging and the wide eyes. But then again, it was only believable while the person wasn't caught in the trap. After that, it was just kind of pathetic. Besides, it was only fun so long as the person believed him. And Lily Evans, it seemed, was not a person so gullible as, oh, say, a certain Mohinder Suresh.

Fine. They didn't have to play. Sylar's features slipped so seemingly out of his false persona that it was damned unsettling, terror and anxiety flickering into that cold kind of confidence he always seemed to carry himself with. "Attack a student? Me? Why, I never," he replied lightly nonetheless, grabbing at his Sour Patch Kids and leaning back in the chair. "I think you have your facts wrong, Professor Evans, you'd best check your sources.

He tossed two candies into his mouth and swallowed, straightening again and tilting his head. "You know, the last professor I spoke with thought I was a musician. Zane Taylor. Ever heard of him?" He sure hadn't. "You've not much patience for subterfuge, do you? Lily, was it, right?"

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

"It was Professor Evans," Lily corrected mildly. "And if you consider that 'subterfuge', then you're even duller than I'd anticipated." But here it was. The mask had dropped - at least, that particular mask - and she had something to study.

Too cocky. Too sure. He had no idea who he was dealing with. Which was to Lily's advantage. He reminded her of the Slytherins when she'd been in school - bullies who dominated because no one thought to stand up to them, but with no real teeth.

Steepling her hands, Lily leaned forward. Quick, avid green eyes took him in, examining him, judging him, drawing conclusions. "Do not lie to me. It wastes time I do not wish to spend on such matters. I'll ask once more. Why did you attack a student?"

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

"Well, I must admit, the geneticist was a little easier to fool than the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he commented lightly, narrowing his eyes to Lily with a kind of scrutiny of his own. "Professor Evans, then. And your friends with Susan. Is that right?"

It was a little refreshing, at least, to get this new spin on things. This Lily Evans, at least she wasn't just writing off this incident as a typical Sylar moment. Anybody in the FBI, in New York, who was a hero, could chalk this up to his usual modus operandi. Top of the head removed. Brain missing. Sylar. Easy as that. But here? He had a clean slate. A fresh start. He could be anybody, until reputation exceeded him.

Plus, you know, there was that handy little bit in which nobody could die. Made things interesting.

"She had something she didn't deserve," he replied in a flattened voice, then, fixing his eyes back onto Lily's with a hardened look. "Something she didn't want. I thought I'd take it onto myself to relieve her of the burden."

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

Ah. A flash of something - disappointment, perhaps - crossed Lily's face and she leaned back slightly. "And here I was hoping for a new motivation," she said after a moment. Then, shrugging slightly, she picked up a piece of parchment and began writing. "You will not take it upon yourself to relieve anyone of any further burdens. That is unacceptable behaviour for any Hogwarts student."

He was a Death Eater at heart after all. Lily was almost bored. Nothing particularly special about him. Just the same tired arrogance she'd seen time and time again; the same feeling of superiority that had caused so much wanton destruction and pain. And for what? Nothing. In the end, all the fighting and struggle and self-righteous pontification had lead to nothing.

There was no outward reaction to him. Lily found him laughable - a boy puffing out his chest and saying he was a man. She'd faced darkness Sylar couldn't dream of. This was now mere annoyance. The evil clown connection, she was certain, was still there. But it was not the crisis she'd feared.

"You are not the one who decides what people deserve, Mr. Sylar," Lily raised her eyes back to him after a moment, the gaze cold and bored. "Remember that. I don't want to have to speak to you about this again." She didn't answer his questions. Sylar was not going to get anything out of Lily; no matter how cliche she found him, he was still a threat. She was still acting in her war-time mentality. Find the answers, don't give away anything of your own.

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

What was that? What the...

No.

No.

Sylar sat in his chair, riveted, hands frozen on the bag of Sour Patch Kids as he stared up towards Lily, cold eyes fixed in onto her with a mixture between rage and injury wafting through them. There it was. He could see it in her eyes. He could goddamn see it! That line where his shoulders met his neck automatically stiffened, his breath coming to a halt in his throat as he calmly set the bag of candy onto the desk. A little too calmly. She... no. She couldn't be.

She was growing bored with him.

She could have done anything. ANYTHING else. She could have hit him. Hexed him. Kicked him out, screamed at him, whatever her heart desired. He might've have laughed, taken some sort of sick enjoyment into the situation. But her writing him off like he was some failed scientific experiment? It was just like Chandra Suresh, all over again. He'd told Sylar that he wasn't important. That he was normal. What, she needed to see something of interest in order to give him a second glance too?

Another chair to his side suddenly ricocheted from its spot and slammed into the nearest wall, splintering into a few dozen pieces without his even glancing at the thing. His telekinesis was getting easier and easier to control by the day. Besides, he couldn't help himself. He was angry. Furious. She'd done the worst possible thing she could have done. She'd called him boring. It was like she'd just dug the knife in and twisted.

"So what, I'm BORING to you?" he snapped, automatically drawing himself up to his full height and scowling down to her. "Think you can just write me off like I'm some boring little cliche? Is THAT what you're going to do?" He was planting his hands onto her desk then, the skin burning a florescent shade of crimson and sizzling through the wood. "IS THAT IT?!" he finished in a sharp bark, eyes widening to her with a kind of rage he couldn't have explained if he tried.

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

Lily might have looked, to all intents and purposes, as if she was calmly sitting at her desk. But she was tensely alert, tuned to even the slightest movement, the smallest change in body language, that Sylar could put out. Slamming a chair against the wall? Not so much subtle. So the second he started to shout, her wand was out, and just as his final words echoed in the air, Lily silently cast a body-binding spell.

"You are not boring me, Mr. Sylar," Lily said, standing smoothly and moving to look down at him. "You are, however, damaging my furniture. Which I cannot tolerate."

For a long moment she simply studied him. "Do you think yourself unique? I'm sorry to say, you're not. The beliefs you cling to have been shouted from the rooftops by men far more powerful than you for centuries. Here's some advice - grow a pair and stop acting as if life owes you something extraordinary and that everyone else around you is somehow less than. It makes you look like an idiot."

She leaned down. "Also, if you attack anyone in this school again, I will not be pleased. And believe me, Mr. Sylar, I am someone you very much do not want to make angry."

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

Oh, crap.

Sylar felt his limbs snap together before he could get a word in edgewise, everything automatically going rigid and what the hell was this? Curare was nothing compared to this. At least with that... damn, he could speak, he could look around. He felt like everything down to his heartbeat had just stopped cold.

Mostly, though, there was that weird feeling in general because there was fear. And it was something Sylar wasn't used to. He didn't get afraid of people. He was better than them. He had no need to be afraid. People weren't scary. Ideas? Concepts? Emotions? Sure. People? Not so much. But with none of his limbs behaving and no IV to switch on or off, Lily looming over him like something out of a horror novel... He couldn't help the random burst of unexplainable something that suddenly ran down his spine.

She was lecturing him? Like this? Sylar wanted to narrow his eyes. SO badly, just to glare at her. Instead, a quill on her desk lifted, scrawling out three, short words across the nearest sheet of paper, in rather agitated block letters.

Let. Me. Go.

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

This wasn't magic she knew. That should have frightened her; instead, Lily simply filed it away for later. She had seen too much to be scared by one man who was brought down by a simple Body-Bind Hex. Leaning against her desk, she waved one hand at the quill, silently and wandlessly causing it to burst into flames. Then she turned, fixing her eyes back on Sylar. Green orbs that usually were so warm now shone with repressed anger, with a cold kind of regard.

"No." The one word was said so casually it might have been a comment on the weather. But there was steel behind it. "We need to come to an understanding. Until we do, I think I'll just leave you like that. It's clear you know nothing of my sort of magic, and your kind of power is not something I'm familiar with except in a peripheral sense. This is what is called an impasse." A tight smile crossed her face and she leaned over him so her copper curls swung down and brushed her cheek. "But here's one thing in my favour - this is my world you're in. And I know it well. I can and I will end you, Sylar; I don't take well to bullies."

Then, sitting back up, Lily perched against the edge of her desk. "Now. Are you willing to behave? Or are you still in need of some convincing?"

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

It wasn't often Sylar allowed himself to actually hate people. There were people he disliked, to great extremes. Hiro Nakamura, and his stupid little stabbing spree back in Kirby plaza, for instance. There were disappointments, people that fascinated him that let him down all-together too shortly. Like Eden McCain, blowing her brains out before he could get inside her head. And then there was Noah Bennet, in a category of his own, locking him in a cell for days, weeks - felt like years - and pumping him full of so many drugs that he couldn't even muster up the energy to breathe, some days.

Lily Evans was very quickly making herself a seat in that category. She'd best look out.

He had two options at this juncture, basically. He could just not listen to her. Throw the wand across the room. Throw her across the room. Stab her straight through with her very own quills and office objects. Macabre art in the shade of pure crimson. No, really. It could get entirely interesting. Could even top the job he'd done on Molly Walker's parents, should he feel the need.

But Lily Evans' death was also no guarantee that this... condition would be lifted. These abilities didn't exactly work like the heroes that he knew back in the states. They had to use a wand ot make them work, for the most part. And... it wasn't limited, to one single ability or something. He'd been doing his research. It wasn't favoring him so well.

He would've narrowed his eyes at her if he could manage. This would be so much more convincing if he was glaring.

The old piece of paper crumpled up, tossing off into the side - and nearly even making it into the wastebasket - before another quill lifted, irritably skritching out a few more words. It would be a little easier to cooperate if I wasn't hexed, Professor Evans, but I assure you there will be less... smashing.

Was that convincing enough? He just really wanted to get off the floor.

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

If there was one thing Lily could recognize, it was hatred. That loathing so pure that it translated into the icy cold desire to end someone's life. She'd experienced it in many shades over the course of her life; it radiating from Sylar only served to cement his similarity to the Death Eaters in Lily's mind. For a long moment, Lily studied him. Just a flicker of a thought sent out, an idea that she might use her admittedly tenuous Legilimency skills on him. But she rejected it as soon as it occurred to her. She wasn't strong enough to take Sylar on, should he prove to be anything better than a fledgling Occlumens.

Instead, she flicked her wand in his direction, silently lifting the body-bind. "That is a simple spell, and one of the more mild hexes I know. Believe me, Mr. Sylar, you do not want to experience the rest." One eyebrow lifted slightly. "Now. Will you be going about, attempting to rip open people's skulls and forcing me to make your life a living hell from whence you will not emerge unscathed? Or can I assume you are actually more intelligent than you would appear?"

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

That probably wouldn't have been the best of ideas, no. Attempting to read Sylar's mind...? He couldn't have promised that she would have made it out of the room without a limb snapped completely in two. Because he probably would have caught onto what she was doing, before she could get any worthwhile information, and he had no patience for mind-reading, not at this juncture.

At least he wasn't frozen. There wasn't that contemptible helpless feeling overtaking him anymore.

There was that hate, still, though. Lily Evans had belittled him, made him feel useless - something he hadn't felt in a long time - and he couldn't take that too lightly at heart. He climbed smoothly back to his feet, brushing off the front of his shirt and lifting eyes to her that were hooded with pure venom. He hadn't been stopped by an entire team of FBI agents and an armored truck, transporting Ted Sprague to a prison facility. He was not going to be stopped by some stupid little girl.

He could have prompted back so many dry remarks. It would be so easy. But that wand still in her fingers was making him pause, gaze flickering briefly to the one little piece of wood that could do so much damage. The wand led back to Lily's eyes, which he studied for a few long seconds, that tint in them that almost seemed as though she knew exactly just what he was up to. He had never met this woman before in his life. She couldn't possibly. He didn't respond to her question right off... just tilted his head in curiosity. "Lily Evans," he murmured in short, furrowing his eyebrows. "There is more to you than what's on the surface, isn't there?"

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

She nearly laughed. Nearly. Well, it would seem that this Sylar had one up on Voldemort and his followers after all. Voldemort hadn't come to that realization until the end. Until it had been too late. One brow raised slightly. Lily had caught the glance at her wand - so he was afraid of it, eh? Well he should be, but Sylar would be wiser to be cautious of her. With her wand she was formidable, yes, but without it just as dangerous. Her wand was her weapon of choice, but not her only one. True, her favourite spells required it, but Lily could defend herself, could attack, without it. Lily was a powerful Witch, made more so in the last year, in the hours spent studying. Her wand was useful. It was no longer necessary.

"There is to everyone," she replied mildly. "I am nothing unique."

Ah, and that was the crux of the matter, wasn't it? Lily fervently believed that everyone had potential. That every person - Wizard or Muggle - had the right to live out that potential. People of Sylar's ilk saw only rough shadows of the power they allotted to themselves; everyone else was less. And if they did run across someone who could match them, with whom they were forced to acknowledge their worth, they only wanted to bend it, corrupt it, or take it for their own. No one was worthy, save them.

"Are you willing to acknowledge the fact that attacking students is not in your best interest? Or do you need further demonstration of just how badly I can own your skinny Yank arse?"

Lily didn't care about his hatred. She had a duty - the one she'd started when she joined the Order and had found herself unable to drop - to protect the innocent, the unaware, those who could not protect themselves. Sylar was nothing more than a great bully. She would stand in his way.

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

Sylar knew who Voldemort was, vaguely. He'd taken it upon himself to start poking around the school library and... well. Quite a read. But had he known what Lily was thinking? That she was comparing him to Deatheaters, thinking he was part of Voldemort's so-called uprising? He probably would have laughed. As if he would be involved in anything so... petty. Not that genocide could be described as 'petty', naturally, but compared to the effort that Sylar was going for... Small potatoes.

What she said out loud, however, he could hear, and that was what concerned him the most. Her claiming not to be unique... was what concerned him. For someone who strove to be so different from everyone else, to be someone special, that made him flinch. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. It was back to Chandra all over again, telling Sylar that he was normal. Back to Mohinder, telling him that the only good he'd do before he died would be to benefit the rest of the individuals across the globe with 'special' abilities.

Everybody had the potential to be special. If someone had that ability within their grasp, why would they squander that?

"I've no interest in what's inside your head, Lily, if that is what you are intending." Susan Sto Helit, he couldn't promise. She was far too interesting an individual for him to just let... slip through the cracks. "Susan, is..." He widened his eyes, almost mockingly wide, clapping a hand to his chest. "Wow. I suppose I just let himself get out of hand." Liar. But it took a lot to see through Sylar's bullshit. "So long as there's no more... What was that hex again?" He'd have to look up a spell book. ...It looked like magic was a little more useful than he initially thought.

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

Perhaps the fundamental difference between Lily and Sylar was that Lily never once thought that he might be after her brain. (After all, it never really was her people were after - Mudbloods in general, her son, her students, but never just her.) She blinked in slight surprise, wondering at that. But then her slim fingers tightened on her wand and red sparks flew from the end.

"Professor Evans," she corrected mildly. "And you do not strike me, Mr. Sylar, as the sort of individual that allows himself to 'get out of hand'."

One corner of her mouth pulled up into a smile, something that made her face look soft and young and sweet. If not for the glint in her eyes she might appear to be someone easily pushed aside. But there was strength, there, in the lines of her face. And a quiet kind of confidence that said she was no blustering bully, seeking to dominate; she had done what she threatened and would not hesitate to do so again. Against those like Sylar, Lily was the guardian at the gate.

"You are misunderstanding your situation. This is not a give-and-take. There is no 'if I do not hex you, you will not attack other students'. This is me telling you, very clearly, that if I hear so much as a whisper of you thinking about harming another person in this school, I will come at you so hard and so fast you will forget to breathe. This is my school, Mr. Sylar. This is my world. You are merely a guest here." Lily took a step forward, eyes hard and fixed on Sylar's. No fear. Not even a hint. She did not fear him; there was nothing he could possibly do that would even touch at what made Lily afraid. She had seen too much, done too much, experienced too much loss. She was above where he lurked, her fears too deep for him to trigger. Lily was simply annoyed.

"Do you understand?" The words were said slowly, as if to a child, but without mocking. With that kind of impatience that said that Sylar was interrupting a busy work day and Lily would very much like it if he grasped this simple concept so she could return to her business.

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

He'd actually been trying to get at the spell. Did nobody understand the concept of subject changes anymore?

But damn. She'd caught onto it again. Lies were almost useless around the woman - she picked up on everything. For someone who based his life around lies, who hadn't actually been himself for God only knew how long now, this Professor Evans suddenly posed a rather threatening - or annoying? - individual. She'd cast a body-binding hex on him. She'd picked out every lie he'd thrown at her. ...There really was more to Lily Evans that met the eye, wasn't there?

There was something entirely different making its way into his eyes as she spoke, delving completely away from the hatred that he'd been giving off in wafts before. It wasn't there anymore. No, this was something new. He was... intrigued? It was that whole appeal in the takeover for him, apparently. It was... she had beaten him. Was beating him. She'd outsmarted him, and was it because she was better? It was at least because she knew this magic that he had no idea of.

"Actually, I'm fairly sure the headmaster's name is Kahnooloo. Not, in fact, Lily Evans," he breathed in a hush, under his breath, looking down to the shorter women and not even bothering to bat an eye towards her forward manner. His gaze flickered across hers, almost curiously, eyebrows furrowing towards her. "But, yes." He narrowed his eyes, then, halfway defensively and dangerously. "I understand. I am not a child, unlike your tone seems to be suggesting at the moment."

Not that he was going to listen to her, naturally. But it took a lot to subdue Sylar, these days.

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

"True," she conceded the point with a slight nod. "But I am a professor here. And it is my duty to protect my students. I take duty very much to heart, Mr. Sylar. And I am not someone you want to make an enemy of."

One eyebrow lifted at his tone, a silent warning. "Nor am I a person easily fooled. I wonder, who are you really, Mr. Sylar? You say you understand, but I have no faith in your comprehension."

For several long moments she simply studied him. Deep green eyes sweeping across his face like searchlights picking out every secret in him. Then Lily turned from him, dismissing him, and returned to her desk. "You will spend your detentions with me. Today you will be filing, by hand, that stack of papers." She waved her hand and a table loaded down with random pieces of parchment stacked so high they wobbled floated over to land with a thump in front of Sylar. "Hospital Wing records from the last fifty years. File alphabetically and by date. No talking. You will work until it is done."

With that, Lily was finished with him. Picking up another quill, she returned to her research, seemingly disinterested in Sylar altogether. Of course, that was only partially true. Lily was done speaking with him, for the moment at least, but someone such as Sylar could not be left unsupervised. As careless and absorbed as she appeared, Lily was alert to anything coming from Sylar. She would be ready, should he have another...fit.

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

Who was he really? Sylar stared back to Lily for a few long seconds, but his expression was neither searching nor prying. Because of all questions. Who was he? Was this a high school guidance counselor?

Really, his stare would have just appeared dumbstruck, had he been stupid enough to let such an emotion show in his eyes. It came across more... well, creepy and stalker-ish, kind of his default as of late. He was... he wasn't Gabriel Gray. He hadn't thought of himself as Gabriel for months - not even when he'd visited his mother again - only because Gabriel was just an embarrassment. Not that he was a different entity from Gabriel - no, that would be crazy - but... evolved. Gabriel 2.0, in a way. Better. He wasn't the watchmaker he always used to identify with. He wasn't just Sylar, this cold, heartless serial killer that everybody else in the world seemed to be chalking him up to.

"I'm the Boogeyman," was all he murmured in return to Lily, more for himself than anything.

If only New York could see him now. Sylar? The bomb? No, he was the office assistant. His eyes darted from his hands to Lily, narrowing back at the woman with that same kind of look in his eyes. And so she dumped him. Like the mangy dog with the fleas that the family no longer desires. "As you wish, professor," he commented lightly, picking at a paper on top of the stack. He could also do without a repeat of that damned hex. That was annoying at best, and he had a personal vendetta against the person who had created it.

Filing. ...Papers.

As if he thought he could stoop no lower.

And best yet, it wasn't his powers that could help him now.

[lilypotter60.livejournal.com]

'I'm the Boogeyman'.

Really? That was either incredibly arrogant or over-the-top cryptic or indicating his desire to slip into a spandex uniform and run about being someone's arch-nemesis. Or an inside joke Lily just did not get. In any case, she simply continued to jot notes, muttering, "Good thing I'm not afraid of the bloody dark then, yeah?"

Lily had some ideas about who the 'real' Sylar was. Just glimpses. Impressions. Images. But one thing she was good at was taking scattered pieces and making a whole. It might not be the entirety - Merlin knows she'd been fooled before, horribly so - but it, in most cases, was enough to go on with.

Every time Sylar spoke, the more he brooded and blustered, the picture was becoming clearer. He desperately needed to be the center of attention. Most people, when confronted with the cold wrath Lily had subjected Sylar to, would be glad when her eyes turned elsewhere. Sylar almost seemed to resent that fact; as if he was too sodding important to have her focus anywhere else. That was...interesting.

The only sounds for quite some time were the scratch of quill and the rustle of parchment filling out the silence. Lily fixed herself a cuppa, sipping it slowly as her head was bent over her work. She felt not a lick of sympathy for Sylar. She'd done similar tasks in detentions whilst she'd been in school as well. Nothing particularly horrific (those - like cleaning up Thestral dung - seemed to be saved for people who went out of their way to earn the detentions, time and time again; like Sirius and James), but boring and unpleasant enough to be a deterrent. Which was...the whole point, really.

[mmm-brainz.livejournal.com]

Not that it mattered how lowly she spoke her words, at any rate. Lily's mutter sent Sylar's eyes flickering back up towards her, narrowed in that same sort of morbid curiosity that he couldn't help but exhibit with her. Not afraid of the dark. Not afraid of him. For the first time, he noticed her heart rate, the simplistic lub-dup pattern that was barely a blip on anybody else's ear drum. It was surprisingly even. She wasn't spooked. It had been a long time since he'd encountered someone who wasn't afraid of him.

It fascinated him.

He might have frowned upon the filing, and turned his chin up at the sight of the stuff, but damn if his obsessive compulsive nature didn't kick in almost instantaneously. This was the man, after all, who'd meticulously kept his apartment in the same, tidy position, for years. Plastic wrap on the chairs. Something like organizing almost became therapeutic. And it didn't take long for him to have the pile strewn out into categories - twenty-five, specifically, seeing as there were very little people with 'X' at the start of their surname.

Heh. Sorting Hospital Wing records. If only Mohinder Suresh, Noah Bennet, anybody, really, could see him now.