"...A winning attitude, that. You were all muggle-born at some point." It wasn't as if magic created them, after all. More like...evolved talent, magic. "If you look far enough back, at least."

Still, his jaw clenched as Avery moved even closer, goosebumps rising up where the boy's breath danced over his skin. It was toxic, and intoxicating at the same time, and it took everything he had to not shutter a little at the feelings it brought out of him.

"I do hate you, you fucking poof. Or did you miss that part?" Though he'd lost some of the conviction. Was something wrong with him? This was not the sort of reaction he wanted to have.

Though it was increasingly hard to deny some truth to the conversation. A part of him did want to kiss a boy. But kiss Avery? He wasn't sure of that one just yet.

"You saying you want to kiss me, you little fag? Have some sort of hard on for me, or something?" He turned to look at the other boy with a determined frown on his face, hands balling into fist at the touch of Avery's hand. "Want to get into my pants right now?"