I've been meaning to try this out. I've never written AH fics before, so forgive me if Magnus doesn't wear enough glitter, or Isabelle seems to generous. Enjoy!

I do not own The Mortal Instruments.



Clary narrowed her eyes at the smirking figure as he passed her. God, she hated him. She hated his stupid smirk that made her shiver, his eyes that were always laughing at her. Hated the way he thought every girl was born to swoon at his every move. Hated him with every fiber of her being and made sure he knew it.

And was forced to share her favorite class with him.

When she got her acceptance letter for NYU, she was sure nothing would deter her absolute elation. She was going to NYU. An Ivy League artist haven with a scholarship. Her best friend Simon got in to major in English, and Isabelle along with her brother and his boyfriend were all, by some lucky chance, going to Columbia. They would all be in New York together. During their college years. The best time of their lives!

But then Isabelle came over to help unpack Clary's new apartment. And Isabelle was positively giddy.

"So..." she said, sitting on the marble counter of Clary's loft. "Looking forward to going to NYU?"

"I don't know if you fell in your head and forgot," Clary snorted, tossing her books on a shelf without bothering with order. "But i have looked forward to it all through senior year and into summer."

"Of course, of course." Isabelle said brightly, twirling a lock of raven hair between her fingers, a gleam in her eye. "Of course..."

"Okay, spill. What are you hiding from me?" the red-headed short girl straightened up, holding a heavy volume of War and Peace.

Isabelle held up her hands in defense. "Whoa, easy there, tiger. Just some news you...might be interested in."

Clary narrowed her eyes low, almost closing them. Last time Isabelle had news that Clary 'might be interested in', it was never anything good. Cormac might know that you have a super huge crush on him...Your art teacher might think you've been ran over by a bus...I might have let is slip you had lice in kindergarten...

"You know Alec's close friend Jace," the tall glamorous girl flashed a dazzling smile and slid off the counter, getting back to her job of stacking dishes on a shelf. "He got into a really good college."

Clary did not like where this was going. "And?"

"A very good college. One you might have also gotten in to."

"O-Oh." Clary set down the book and kept emptying the box. "So we go to the same college. It's a big university. Odds of me seeing him around are pretty low."

"Yeah, yeah you're right."

There was something else, Clary knew it. Very precisely, she picked up her stuffed hedgehog and threw it forcefully at the back of Isabelle's head. She yelped and swirled around.

"There is no need for violence, Clarissa!" she chastised. "Jace is taking some sort of music course, and some other stuff. Along with...your art one."

"What?" the hiss escaped Clary involuntarily, and she almost crouched into a pouncing position, as if her natural reaction would be to morph into a lion and claw someone to death. "He hates art! Why?"

"I think it's obvious." Isabelle snickered as she flopped down onto a closed box and leafed through Clary's sketchbook. "To torment you. He hates you, you know."

"Tell me something i don't know." Clary muttered, snatching the sketchbook and putting her hands on her hips. "That is a major waste of time! I mean, sure he hates me, but this is his college time. His career! Why would he go out of his way to get in mine?"

Isabelle blinked for a few moments. "He really hates you."

Now, watching as he made his way smugly to sit down at one of the easels, Clary's hatred for him tripled. Art was her escape. It calmed her. Art classes were supposed to be a time of relaxation, where she could bond with other artists and not grind her teeth to powder while he snickered in her ear.

To her irritation, but not great surprise as so far the universe had been pretty cruel, she was late, so the only seat available was right next to Jace, who had just walked in, passing her, smirking as usual.

Sniffing, she stomped to the seat, dropped her bag at her feet, and crossed her arms, steadily ignoring the light haired, golden eyed jackass seated next to her, fully aware of how uncomfortable he made her.

"Hey, Fray. Listen, i know you think that i only signed up to annoy you. But that's not true at all." he said, his silky voice dripping with amusement. He leaned in to her ear and ended in a low voice, "I have quite the passion for art."

Clary swung at him with her hand, but he had already backed away, laughing to himself.

The Professor was an extremely tall woman in her late forties, with brown hair streaked with silver. She was wearing strange garments of clothing, including a floor length skirt with patterned jungle animals, and several ponchos and wraps, despite the unusually warm September. At the tip of her nose were perched old fashioned spectacles. Dozens and dozens of necklaces and bracelets glittered around her neck and wrists whenever she moved, the light streaming from the window bouncing off the many reflective surfaces. She reminded Clary strongly of Professor Trelawney from Harry Potter.

"Good morning, students." she said, her voice quiet and smooth. "My name is Professor Smightly. Since this is our first class, and all of you are freshmen, i would like you all to draw something - using whichever medium you prefer - completely freestyle. Sign it, and hand it in at the end of the lesson. I would like to get to know your drawing style before we start any projects."

After asking if any of them had questions, she gestured to a counter with a sink and art supplies, before sitting at her desk and opening up a dusty, thick book, the title of which seemed to be Greek or Latin.

Clary returned to her easel with charcoal and paper, and started to draw. Her hand moved freely, tracing the outline of a city skyline.

"That's truly, truly beautiful." someone murmured from behind her. She jumped. Jace was standing next to her, his hand stroking his chin as he mocked amazement. "Yes. Yes, truly remarkable. Not long before you die a sudden death and your work gets noticed."

"Go back to your seat and scribble, Herondale." Clary said vehemently, spinning back to her drawing.

"Scribble? I could beat you in drawing any day of the week. Except Thursday. I have surgery. But any other day, and you're on!" Jace slid into his seat easily, making no move to paint, simply watching her.

Clary ignored his stare and kept drawing. After a few minutes, she snapped. Whirling in her seat, she faced him and crossed her arms.

"You should be drawing. You don't want to fail on your first day."

"Don't worry about me, sugarplum. I know how much you'd miss me. I'd never leave you." he smiled widely, tilting his head.

"You realize what a waste this is, right? College determines the rest of your life. And you signed up to torture me."

"Who says?" Jace turned to the canvas and thoughtfully picked up a brush, dipping it in red paint. Then he began to draw.

Honestly, in all the time she'd known him, she'd never thought about his drawing skills. She knew he was good at the piano, but that was as far as she thought his creative skills went. But she should have figured that with graceful fingers like his he could draw. He expertly draw out the lines of a figure, faceless. She was wearing a dress made of flames, and had fiery hair that flared around her shoulders. It was actually good. But never in a million years would she acknowledge that.

Tearing her eyes from his drawing, she hastily turned back to her own and kept tracing the dark lines, filled with spite. No way would he let him get to her. Art was her thing. No one would take that away from her so easily.

At the end of the lesson, she had a black and white drawing of a city similar to New York, with details set into every inch. She felt quite proud when she handed it in. Jace's was alright, but she thought hers was better.

Something bothered her about his painting, though. Despite her being faceless, the figure seemed to twirl, laugh, and wink at her as Clary left the classroom, steadily ignoring Jace's smirk

Music blared around Clary as she swayed to the beat, dancing with Isabelle like there was no tomorrow. Or no today. What with Jace ruining her class and being the usual jerk, with his smirking and his painting. Who did he think he was? God she despised him.

Isabelle, Magnus, Alec, Simon and Clary had all decided to go clubbing to celebrate - or for some, Clary thought bitterly, to forget - the first day of college. She wasn't sure how good an idea this was as they all had classes tomorrow, but that didn't stop them.

Clary loved dancing in Pandemonium. There was something so rhythmic, steady and reliable about losing track of time and swirling around to the pulse of the music. It calmed her, in a different way from painting. And right now, she sure as hell needed calming.

"I'm getting a drink." she yelled to Isabelle, who was dancing closely with a guy and didn't hear her. Shrugging, Clary pushed through the crowd and reached the bar. Ordering a shot of vodka, she noted another reason she liked Pandemonium. They didn't ID.

She knocked back the drink, and turned to dance again. But suddenly she didn't want to. She didn't want to be pushed against a swarm of strangers. Suddenly she just wanted to be alone. Or, as alone a club could offer.

Winding her way through, she reached a corner and leaned against the wall, pressing her palms to her eyelids. Why was she obsessing so much over Jace? So he was annoying. He was the one who was wasting his time. Not her. Let him have his fun.

"Well look at what the cat dressed up and dragged out."

Her eyes snapped open and barely focused on a tall figure standing in front of her, wearing a black dress shirt and black jeans that contrasted with his pale blonde hair. Golden eyes stared back at her, accompanied by a trade-mark, goddamned smirk.

"Herondale." she said coolly crossing her arms and looking past him, trying to spot someone to go to. Simon was talking to a pretty short girl with brown hair. Isabelle was still getting friendly with that guy. Or possibly a different one. And Magnus and Alec were nowhere to be seen. Probably making out somewhere.

"Fray. I'm hurt you guys didn't invite me on this little escapade."

"I certainly hope so."

"Ouch. Your words sting. Do tell, why you're standing here all alone, looking particularly down? Can no boys handle your meek dancing skills?" Jace smiled at her ever so sweetly, hands in his pockets.

"I don't know. You seem to be stalking me. In desperate need of a dance?"

Jace blinked and lowered his voice, looking around slowly. "Fray, you want to dance with me? I mean, i am otherworldly good looking, but you've always seemed so adamant about denying your feelings-"

"I don't have any feelings for you." Clary scowled. "Believe it or not, not every girl is into you."

"Aren't they?" he stepped closer, looking down at her thoughtfully.

"O-Obviously not." she stuttered. She didn't know if it was the alcohol, but being this close to Jace was making her hyper aware of how good looking he was. Clary mentally slapped herself. Jace is a jerk. Jace is a bastard. She hated him. And always would.

"You see, i don't think so." he took another step toward her, so that they were mere inches apart. He lifted his right hands and traced a finger down her cheek, looking her right in the eye. "I think you're conflicted. Years of hating me and logical reason seem to tell you that you couldn't possibly be attracted to me. But when we're this close..."

His hand trailed down her face, to the side of her stomach, and stopped at her waist. Her heart started beating faster, and she was acutely aware of how close they were, their bodies just not touching. He lowered his head and stopped his lips inches from hers.

"...you just can't resist..." he whispered, his eyes looking her slowly up and down before returning to stare into her own. Clary found herself leaning in, waiting for their lips to touch -

Then he pulled away quickly, smiling innocently at her. "Then again, you're probably right."

Turning around, he walked off and disappeared into the crowd.