“beyond wandpoint” 106 by gingerbred
Mar. 25th, 2019 12:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beyondwandpoint“11 12s Wednesday - Dinner 3 - Dealing With”
Severus Snape, Staff: Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick, Pomona Sprout, Poppy Pomfrey, Hagrid, Professor 'Call-Me-Terry' Taylor, Rolanda Hooch, Slytherins: Draco Malfoy, Theo Nott, Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Alberta Runcorn, Harper Hutchinson, Aaron Avery, Sheldon Shafiq, Torsten Touchstone, Ella Wilkins, Hestia Carrow, Valerie Vaisey, Tomasina Touchstone, Hunter Hutchinson, Gryffindors: Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Seamus Finnigan, Ginny Weasley, Romilda Vane
Mentioned briefly: Hermione Granger, Staff: Albus Dumbledore, Slytherins: Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Róisín Rosier, Gryffindors: Dean Thomas, Fay Dunbar, Ritchie Coote, Jack Sloper, Demelza Robins, Jimmy Peakes, Hufflepuffs: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Others: Sunny, Slinky
Originally Published: 2019-03-10 on AO3
Chapter: 106
Characters:
Severus (HoS, Potions)
Staff:
Professor Minerva McGonagall (HoG, Transfiguration), Professor Filius Flitwick (HoR, Charms), Professor Pomona Sprout (HoH, Herbology), Poppy Pomfrey (Mediwitch extraordinaire), Hagrid (Care of Magical Creatures, Keeper of not-so-wee Beasties), Professor Terrence 'Call-Me-Terry' Taylor (DADA), Madam Rolanda Hooch (older but better, likely to take flight)
Slytherins:
Draco 7S (Prefect, Team Captain, Seeker, Swot), Theo Nott 7S (Swottiest, Nervous Wreck), Blaise Zabini 7S (Keeper (but only in the Quidditch sense...)), Daphne Greengrass 7S (Sparkly! Fwoopers!), Tracey Davis 7S (Swottier), Pansy Parkinson 7S (Prefect), Millicent 'Millie' Bulstrode (Reserve Beater, yes, that.), Alberta Runcorn 7S (Grumpy.), Harper Hutchinson 6S (Prefect, Chaser, flash Robe Model), Aaron Avery 6S (Reserve Chaser), Sheldon Shafiq 6S (Reserve Beater, and charm on legs), Torsten 'Tor' Touchstone 6S (sleepyhead, heir to the Touchstone fortune), Ella Wilkins 6S (Prefect), Hestia Carrow 6S (Chaser, sporty twin), Valerie 'Val' Vaisey 6S (Chaser), Tomasina Touchstone 5S (Prefect, Potions savvy heiress), Hunter Hutchinson 4S (enthusiastic Imp)
Gryffindors:
Harry 7G (Team Captain, Seeker, the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Annoy-Severus), Ron Weasley 7G (Prefect, Keeper (but also only in the Quidditch sense), the Boy-Who-Exists-to-Annoy-Hermione), Seamus Finnigan 7G (fiery Reserve Beater), Ginny Weasley 6G (Chaser), Romilda Vane 5G (notorious groupie)
Mentioned briefly: Hermione 7G (Prefect, Supreme Swot), Staff: Albus Dumbledore (dying Headmaster, but ffs, not nearly fast enough...), Slytherins: Vincent 'Vince' Crabbe 7S (Beater, Winged ex-Couch still-Potato), Gregory Goyle 7S (Beater), Róisín Rosier 6S Gryffindors: Dean Thomas 7G (mannered Chaser), Fay Dunbar 7G (Reserve Chaser), Ritchie Coote 6G (Beater), Jack Sloper 6G (Reserve Beater), Demelza Robins 5G (Chaser), Jimmy Peakes 4G (Beater), Hufflepuffs: Justin Finch-Fletchley 7H, Others: Sunny (the Snapes' house elf), Slinky (the Slytherin House's chief house elf)
Previously:
The Slytherin girls declare an... embargo on the seventh year boys. Some may be finding that decision... frustrating. The Slytherin boys reluctantly conclude they probably can't do much to help the Head's situation, but they mean to avenge him against the seventh years. (083) Draco and Harper come to something of an understanding, and the sixth year tries to convince the others that those measures shouldn't interfere with Quidditch or cause Severus more work. (104)
Draco gives Tracey his Wizard's Oath that Theo had done everything he could have to prevent the situation that led to Severus' bonding. (093) Norman Nott's (Theo's father's) Poste Serpente had laid the blame for that squarely at Draco's feet anyway. (065)
Severus discovers Theo in a fugue state and Stupefies and then Rennervates the boy trying to snap him out of it. Because the wizarding world takes a so very enlightened approach to mental health... (095)
Severus employs the Universal Solvent to 'unstick' Vince from the couch, at least for appearances' sake. What it really does is irritate his skin more than a classroom full of Gryffindors is prone to irritate Severus. Full of Longbottoms, even. Gregory, just the soul of luck, gets some on him when Vince flops into his lap and promptly develops a reaction to the stuff. (095)
Draco manages to rub many of the Slytherins the wrong way at lunch when he insists that Sarah Sapworthy's prediction from Tuesday had been about bringing the 'biggest snake' to his knees. He's not alone. Blaise accomplishes much the same thing by seeking clarification as to the workings of trust funds and whinging about his allowance. (098)
Justin Finch-Fletchley is inadvertently hexed and now finds himself with one head surplus to requirements. (100)
Minerva has Ron... assisting Argus to search for the long lost portrait of Healer Mathew. (Mentioned 100)
Severus gets the wrong end of the wand and thinks Minerva is displeased with his handling of the centaurs' portrait. (100)
Severus is forced to confront the fact Vince is a potions dealer, and is unable to identify three of his potions without further testing. (097) He discovers one of those potions is the Liquid Lust Hermione was given, and becomes a walking, stalking rageball. (104) He encounters Harry and trades him a demonstration of the Curly-tail Spells for an Oath to keep Friday's events to himself. (105)
Ginny finally confesses to Harry that her mum had sent Severus and Hermione Howlers. Showing a hint of clue, he fears the worst. (104)
The issue of how they intend to address their potions supply sorted, Alberta takes in the boys at their table with a decidedly rapacious gaze. That is to say, she's looking at Aaron and Sheldon. The seventh years are off limits, Vince isn't there anyway, nor is Gregory and his magnificent arse for that matter, she wouldn't stoop to looking at the fifth years (unless truly desperate), and of the sixth years, only Aaron and Sheldon are... viable options, she is sure. Harper? Torsten?? Please.
Fence sitters.
Now Sheldon... Oh, he's quite the charmer alright (he appears to be chatting up Hestia at just the moment) and right pretty, but Alberta thinks he's too much of a player. It's funny how quick people are to think that, even though not a one of them can claim to have ever seen him slouched snogging one of their classmates in a corner somewhere. Alberta is no different. Frankly, she doesn't entirely fancy her chances with him anyhow. That's probably the crux of the matter, because the fact she considers Sheldon a player generally wouldn't disqualify him. Quite the contrary. She's not looking for a relationship. The wizard would have to have something... substantial to offer before she'd even consider it. She's not even necessarily seeking exclusivity, although their circles being so small, it often tends to work out that way. There's little point to needless... complications. Male egos can be quite fragile, after all.
To her mind, that probably only leaves Aaron, because she has no intention of remaining celibate just because the seventh year boys have now been confirmed to be idiots of the first water.
And there's something to be said for going for the less attractive of two friends anyway, not that he isn't well fit - well, fit enough - but facts are facts (apparently no matter how subjective); there's no use trying to put a spin on it. Aaron should be an easier mark, or - and this is always a strong possibility - paying attention to him might just irritate Sheldon enough to persuade him to make a move of his own. Wounded pride can work wonders, better than Butterbeer goggles. And if not, it hardly matters. The Averys are better connected at any rate.
The Runcorn family is banking on the Dark Lord's forces winning the war, more so - more explicitly so - than the Parkinsons are, and have... positioned themselves for advancement when that time comes. She expects Aaron to have much the same... career as Gregory and Vince. (Probably Vince, all considered; Gregory doesn't seem ambitious enough, or possibly less firm in his convictions.) So, not scaling the peaks the Malfoys achieve, but presumably without sinking to the concomitant lows, either. No, there shouldn't be any harm in having her name associated with Aaron's...
Alberta's not desperate or anything. She's hardly gagging for it, the very thought is stupid, but she knows what she likes and what she wants, at least in a general sense, and she's recognised they'll now have more witches (presumably Tracey and Pansy are in much the same boat) competing for a reduced pool of wizards. Where she might have been patient to see how things played out before, that strikes her as a luxury she can no longer afford. No, a week, two at the latest, and she means to have this particular question answered, preferably before it dawns on the others there's less supply for their demands. Or even worse: the boys catch on and play hard to get.
Sheldon is busy flirting, and Aaron is just sitting there, rather on his own and looking a bit bored. That should make it easier. And of course it'll be less obvious now that Vince is missing... She won't be explicitly spurning him in favour of the sixth year.
Aaron looks a little surprised when she moves to the spot next to him and casually asks, "How was practice?" Presumably he'll catch on to the changed dynamics even later than most.
Severus sits there, irritably shifting his food about his plate once more. The Great Hall almost always ruins his mood. That's presupposing it weren't utterly ruined to begin with, he muses to himself, forgetting in his gloom to permit himself to just be satisfied with Potter's cooperation. The food isn't helping, his expression has his colleagues giving him a wide berth, and Poppy hasn't put in an appearance yet. She has a way of ignoring his moods and bridging the gap between him and the others, and he has a way of letting her. No one else gets away with the things she does. Well, possibly Albus, but in Poppy's case, Severus takes things with a modicum of humour. He may not realise it, but he misses her.
Unfortunately she's rather busy trying to figure out which of Mr. Finch-Fletchley's heads they need to feed...
So Severus continues to sit there, stewing. First Crabbe's Potion, then encountering Potter of all people. Worse: being cornered by Potter of all people. Although, that may not be a fair representation of the events. Severus had chosen to spar with the boy. He could have kept going. Yes, kept going to arrive earlier in the Great Hall only to find Miss Granger - the witch who hadn't possessed the small shred of decency required to wait for him - absent... Not that he's sure that should make any difference to him - he reminds himself: both the not waiting and that absence - but it's... perhaps a mite... bothersome that she hadn't communicated her plans.
That must be it.
It certainly doesn't smack of the mutual respect and civility she'd championed...
And he's not running his thumb over that damnable ring again.
If he had to guess where she is, not that he knows why he should, except that it's presumably good to know given the idiocy of the Protection Vow... But if he had to guess, closing his eyes for a moment and listening to their bond, he'd say 'up' somewhere. But then, with the exception of the dungeons, almost all of the castle is 'up' from here. That's not stunningly helpful, really.
No, in an emergency it should prove bloody useless.
Brilliant.
Par for the course.
He wonders if she's visiting friends in the Tower. He shoots a look at the Gryffindor table. Potter still hasn't arrived... Severus shakes the notion off before he seriously tries to catalogue who else is missing.
That way lies madness.
No.
And of course showing Potter that Spell hadn't been quite as pleasurable as he'd hoped either...
That may be a case of delayed gratification, however.
Presumably it's only a question of time before Weasley finds himself on the receiving end of that one. With the way things have been going this year, it would undoubtedly have to be him or Malfoy, and Potter's Oath at least eliminated that latter possibility. Just as well, as Malfoy is Severus' problem... But then that's always assuming Potter were to actually look up the Charm now that he knows what it's called - and then proceed to master it. What had Minerva said? There he goes again, suggesting Potter might read in his spare time...
Severus looks her way with some amusement before remembering how they'd parted at lunch. Hmm. Yes. She'd been on her way to report him to Albus for abusing the centaurs' portrait.
Quite.
His mood blackens further.
As he's heard nothing from Albus, he assumes the man was singularly unimpressed with her complaint. Or perhaps Albus has finally recognised he just shouldn't push him any further. Not unless it's absolutely critical, anyway.
Severus nearly laughs a humourless laugh at that. No, that's not bleeding likely.
He pokes at his food now as though it had personally offended him, which it may well have done simply by existing, and still not taking a bite. It's even more difficult to work up an appetite for the usual fare having had a couple of Sunny's meals lately.
He looks at the Slytherin table and frowns when he spots Draco and Zabini. He imagines that annoyance will last for some time. He's even angrier at the one who's absent. Far angrier. If he could, he'd probably throttle the boy. No, he wouldn't, but he enjoys the thought. None of this would have happened without Crabbe and his thrice damned Potion.
And Severus still has the third one to identify... He wonders if it could make him any angrier than he already is... Facetiously (ha! four syllables, quite without Miss Granger's influence) he tells himself that would not be possible even though he knows it's a bald faced lie.
He's had enough. He's put in an appearance and it's... it's quite enough. Without a word to the others at the table, communication is clearly overrated, he abruptly pushes his chair back, stands and leaves, cloak billowing behind him as he goes.
He can always have Sunny bring something. Merlin knows he deserves it.
As luck would have, Poppy arrives only a few minutes later.
By the time Harry takes his seat at the Gryffindor table, the rest of the team has gone to work on Ron and made it abundantly clear he needs to speak to MacGonagall about getting permission for their early morning practices up until the match. So clear in fact, that even he isn't the least bit uncertain about what he has to do, and he can be bloody thick on occasion, some of the others are sure. Seamus, Jack and Fay had been instrumental in getting the point across, less prone to beating around the bush than Ritchie or Jimmy were, and less polite by half than Dean or Demelza, say.
Unsurprisingly, Ron's mood - less than stellar after his detention and fruitless search for some stupid old portrait - is now even worse. Of course, if he had any inkling how long his Head of House is going to leave him twisting and begging for that permission, right there at the High Table in front of the whole school, his mood would probably be worse yet. And if he knew he'd be serving yet another detention after the meal, he'd probably just throw in the towel. Ignorance may not be bliss, but at least it isn't as thoroughly wretched as prescience in the case specific.
And to top things off, there'd been no sign of 'Mione or Snape for quite sometime, and when the greasy dungeon bat finally did put in an appearance, Ron couldn't help noticing he wasn't eating. Once again.
This can't be coincidence.
How many consecutive meals can the man possibly skip? Or 'Mione for that matter. Clearly they were eating elsewhere, and 'Mione can say what she likes about all the supposed deficiencies in the Hogwarts curriculum, Ron can still do the maths. They're holed up somewhere eating together. He's sure of it.
When he starts up with his litany of miseries, Harry again wishes he were anywhere but there. His eyes reflect that, sort of automatically darting about, foolishly checking for escape routes he doesn't intend to use. But that's what leads him to spot that Gin keeps trying to catch his eye from further up the table, and with a sinking feeling, he remembers their exchange from earlier. A deep-seated desire to put off that topic provides him with the patience to just sit there listening to Ron spew instead.
"And where have you been?" Ron eventually asks when he's cycled through his list of complaints no less than three times and finally runs out of steam. Harry couldn't help thinking that easily half of Ron's problems were self inflicted, and it occurs to him answering this question honestly would be just such a self inflicted problem of his own. Wild Thestrals. No, that wouldn't do at all.
So he evades.
"I've been doing some thinking." He pauses, but not for dramatic effect like some people. No, mostly just to work up the courage to continue. "Ron, mate, I'm not sure how to say this, but I'm afraid I've got some bad news..." The buzz of Harry's Muffliato had kind of made that clear anyway.
Ron scoffs and sends a spray of barely chewed mushy peas Harry's way in the process. "Is there any other kind?" He snarks.
Harry's far from thrilled at the veg shower, obviously, but at least it shows some trace of his friend's humour that been noticeably absent the past couple of days. So at least there's that. He dabs at his face with his Gryffindor red napkin, buying a little time before he sucks it up and breaks the news.
"It seems your mum sent Snape a Howler..."
"Yeah, I know," comes the nonchalant reply.
"Wait... Wait. Whaddaya mean you know?"
"I was in the Infirmary when Pig delivered it."
"You've known since yesterday morning?" Harry is having some difficulty with the unexpected response. Ron just shrugs. "So you're sure?"
"Oh, I'm sure."
"And you didn't think to tell me?" Harry's floored. Gin had plainly sat on the information, too. What's with these people? Maybe it's a Weasley trait... This they keep to themselves, but the worst sort of gossip was immediately passed on...
"What would have been the point? We can't change it. And it's not like she's your mum." Harry's not sure Snape will make that distinction, and yet... He hadn't mentioned the Howler once while they were speaking just now. In fact, it had slipped Harry's mind, and now he's not sure what to make of Snape's reaction. "And there was no use both of us worrying about it..."
Harry doesn't snort at that, mostly because he's still too taken aback, but he can't help thinking the same logic might apply to having to listen to endless choruses of poor-woe-is-Rons. He manages to keep that to himself as he tries to decide if he's angry. He's not sure, which probably means he isn't, although it's safe to say he isn't pleased.
That might not matter, though.
"It's part of what's been weighing on me..." Ron tries to explain, in yet another not so subtle bid for sympathy, and Harry tries - hard - to picture how he'd feel if it had been Ginny bonded to the git. It helps put things in proportion for him again. Mostly, anyway. Ron's still been a bit of a toad.
"Well, you're in luck. I'm trying to get you a Draught of Peace for Potions tomorrow, and if I can, you're going to take it. Are we clear?" Harry informs the ginger firmly.
"How's that lucky?"
"Well, for starters, it should keep the House point loss down while Snape lets us know just how much he appreciated the Howler. And another thing, you're going to give me an Oath..." He outlines the one he'd just taken to keep word of the attack on Hermione to himself. That part goes surprisingly well, really. Ron knows the details from Friday, doesn't he, and Harry just avoids mentioning how he himself had taken the Oath. In stark contrast to recent talks with Gin, it works a treat.
Far better than expected even, as Ron gets why the thing might be helpful faster than Harry did, which simplifies matters. It's sort of funny, though, considering Ron still won't entertain a whole host of thoughts as to what happened. Far fewer than Harry does anyway. But apparently it's not as simple as seeing the point, because then Ron balks.
"Alright, I get not mentioning it, but why would you want to take another Oath? That's what got us into this mess with mum's Howler." It's not that Ron's wrong, Harry had had much the same thoughts even - well, mostly Ginny related, but still - but he happens to think Mrs. Weasley would have had pretty much the same reaction even with the facts, and he can see how that might not be good. And he knows Ron and Gin. It's only a question of time before one of them gets angry and blurts out what they know, good intentions aside. And that's assuming good intentions. With Ron... Well, they aren't necessarily a given just now. Still, Harry supposes telling his friend his mum is about as subtle as a Bludger won't help matters any...
"It's like this, mate: I went and talked to Snape," Ron actually stops eating to stare at him, open mouthed, and now Harry's just hoping he doesn't spray him with the masticated mush again. "I was trying to smooth things over for tomorrow," he lies once again, but then the truth was unlikely to help here. "And he wants this..."
"Snape??" Ron's struggling to swallow and sputtering to object. "All the more reason not give it to him..."
It's not that Harry wouldn't ordinarily agree, but that's not the issue here. Or, fine, it's part of it. But this is in 'Mione's interest, he's pretty sure of it, especially as even Ron had seemed to agree as to that. And with some luck, this might be a way to make Snape go easier on Ron, on both of them tomorrow. So he says as much and they argue it for a while. It's tricky going when Harry doesn't want to play the fault card as to what happened to 'Mione or even broach that last at all really. He finally begins to lose patience, "I'm not kidding, Ron. Do this, and I'll handle Snape. You won't have to, and I'm telling you, guaranteeing it will help." He hopes so, anyway.
Ron's not a complete idiot, well alright, some days maybe that's a close run thing, but he gets that Harry's stuck with him on this, and he doesn't want to lose his support. He also hasn't been looking forward to tomorrow's Potions class in the least. If Harry is willing to fly interference with the old bat... Who is he not to take him up on it? His reluctance is clear, but he finally takes the Oath.
Harry actually sighs in relief. "With some luck, that should keep Snape sweet." Ron cocks a brow at that. "Right, not 'sweet'. But maybe not murderous either, which might be a good start."
They both sit there in silence for a while, exhausted. This arguing stuff is tiring.
Which of course is when Seamus chooses to remind Ron, "If you two are done with your lovers' quarrel, you need to speak to MacGonagall, now, or we'll be sneaking out again tomorrow. That's not on, Ron. Sort it."
Ron rises, grumbling and looking even more beat, and shuffles the walk of the condemned man towards the High Table. He swears he can hear the Slytherins laughing. Harry ends the Muffliato, quietly thinking he should just take a page from Seamus' book the next time. Of course, talking to MacGonagall (or not) wasn't nearly as important to Ron as the 'Mione situation, and Harry had missed the protracted argument about getting their Head's permission for practice before he arrived, but on the surface, it looks damn good. Damn good indeed. Definitely by comparison.
Gin's been keeping an eye on Harry this whole time and he waves her over once Ron leaves and she almost immediately puts up another Muffliato. It's accompanied by more than a few groans at their table. It's like everyone else shrinks away from them just at the sound.
Romilda assures some of her geese that that's what Ron had been arguing with Harry about, that Ron's friend has lost interest in Ginny, and a few find themselves thinking that would sort of speak for Ron, really. Kiera is less than convinced, but they decide she's probably biased because she's not single... (Which helps explain why they weren't sorted into Ravenclaw, just as a for instance.) Ultimately they're agreed Ron has been a bit of a potion lately. But with the 'Hermione's decidedly off the market' situation - bonds are forever, don't you know - and as a concerned brother, they suppose one must make allowances...
The barney with Ron had helped Harry marshal his arguments in favour of the Oath, although in retrospect he can kind of see how doing that in advance might have helped, but he's got things down now, and he gets to work on convincing Gin she should take the Oath as well. Again he pushes the Snape placating agenda, emphasising how she had sent her mum the owl that spawned the Howler... He gets lucky, she really does feel guilty about that. And of course she's more aware than either of the boys are of what almost certainly must have precipitated the bondings... He has a fairly easy time talking her round, really, certainly when compared to her brother. Although as she folds, Harry can't help thinking it probably doesn't hurt that she's a little more partial to him than Ron is.
Of course, Harry understands women about as well as his friend does.
When it's done, for the first time since Gin had told him about the Howlers, he finds himself looking forward to Potions tomorrow. He turns to seek out Snape at the High Table, thinking to somehow convey 'mission accomplished', only to see he's already left.
Uncomfortably, it occurs to him Ron may be right about him eating elsewhere.
The Snakes are much quicker to register their Head's departure.
It doesn't take long before someone manages to surreptitiously pour a perfectly obscene amount of salt on Draco's food. He spits the inedible mouthful, not ungracefully, into his napkin and then grabs for his glass, only to discover his water is salted as well. Significantly more so than his meal, even. His Housemates haven't forgotten how smug he had appeared at lunch, the biggest snake of them all, and he's now squarely in their sights. Theo is quick to offer his own beverage even as Draco turns and spits the salty swig on the floor behind them.
"Hey!" Róisín cries in dismay, thoroughly offended by the manners some of the boys have on display. Breeding is one thing, but finish, finish is everything, and these buffoons are clearly without the least bit of polish. "Swine," she hisses.
Theo Tergeos the mess with a word of conciliation towards Róisín, who merely scrunches her nose dismissively, while Draco drinks gratefully from his glass. With Gregory and Vince missing, the others' attention is clearly focused on the three of them.
Draco pushes his plate from him in disgust, once again consuming very little of the Insalacious Saltpetre laced food. Slinky had done his best, but he isn't there to force-feed the boy. It's another neat demonstration - were anyone aware of the facts - that multiple uncoordinated attacks aren't always as effective as even a single, well conceived one.
Although there's plenty to be said for chaos.
"Put up a Protego," Draco whispers to Theo, who looks a little puzzled. "Around you and your plate. Trust me on this one." But Theo has already done so, just as soon Draco indicated where. It's silent and wandless and a very good idea to be able to perform that particular Charm in that way. Merlin knows, they've had years to practise.
He can see that Draco must have one up now as well - although it only made sense - because green coloured bits of wadded up paper napkin are now collecting on an invisible surface ranging about a foot or two away from him. It's a very strange look. Whoever is behind it appears to have noticed the Shield Charm, and has simply increased their efforts. There's more than one way to skin a Kneazle. It's not long before more napkin than Draco is visible.
Both boys can't help thinking there isn't just a single person behind it...
They're correct. In fact, it's most of the third and fourth years, not that Draco and Theo are likely to learn of it. The younger Slytherins would probably be sat there giggling either way.
"Should I put up a Notice-Me-Nott?" Theo offers.
Draco shrugs, considering, "This is annoying," Theo can readily see where it might be, yes, but refrains from voicing his agreement, "but harmless. If this helps them get it out of their systems..." He shrugs again. "I'd rather not end like Vince." Which makes perfect sense, all considered. Theo has the sinking feeling this year is going to be a long one.
His contemplations of just how long are interrupted by a cry from Blaise. Someone managed to get a Heating Charm past him, and he burnt his lip on his mashed potatoes. "'erlin's 'uddy 'ollocks!" He moans.
"I'm sorry, Blaise. Did you say something?" Torsten taunts, of this much Theo is sure. He revises his estimate on the length of the year seriously upwards as he watches Blaise apply Icing Charms to his blistering lip.
"'er 'uck's sake!" Comes Blaise's only reply. Well, that was clear enough.
Attacks on Theo are held somewhat in check by Daphne's rigorous, albeit whispered, insistence to those seated around her that Draco's Oath and both Theo's father's owl and Serpent would seem to prove Theo doesn't deserve it... But then Pansy's counter argument that the Head had Stupefied him this morning takes its toll.
Soon bits of napkin are beginning to stick to Theo's Protego as well. Not so much, though, that he can't clearly see when the resultant cooling of Blaise's hand as he gingerly nurses his lip has him overlooking the fact that two of the sixth years are working against him in tandem. Sheldon freezes the seventh year's fork as he reaches for it, Aaron applies a quick and quite subtle Aguamenti sticking the thing to Blaise's fingers most painfully. He sits there, whinging, flapping his hand, fork now well stuck to it, and had apparently dropped his guard further in the process. Some of the others must have been inspired by the frozen fork look, and send a selection of tableware Blaise's way with Wingardium Leviosas and Sticking Charms. His Keeper's reflexes do him good service and he's able to bob and weave and duck around many of them, but soon he's left with a variety of cutlery stuck all over himself.
"You might want some Universal Solvent for that," Hunter suggests, still thinking of Zabini's insensitivity at lunch. Well, the Solvent was likely to make him a good deal more sensitive, wasn't it?
Millie can't help laughing. She'd seen what the stuff did to Gregory and Vince, and honestly, she likes Blaise a lot less.
Tracey, who definitely knows better, is quick to agree with Hunter's suggestion, "I think there was some left from this morning."
Harper stifles a laugh, only just, because he knows for a fact that's a deliberate set up on her part, but then Blaise would have to prove she knew better to make that claim. No, Tracey is a cautious person, and no reproofs against her are likely to stick... Unlike a dozen or two forks, knives and spoons to Blaise, say.
The forks stuck in Blaise's fade in particular amuse Harper, almost as if they'd meant to comb his shortly cropped hair. Of course, the spoons hanging from his nose and chin were quite a look as well. Hestia and Val had put their Chasers' talents to good work there.
Pansy feels inspired by something she recalls from their first year, and with a telltale look to their Head's empty seat performs a quick Incendio on Blaise’s robes when no one is looking. She may be more than a little angry that his stupidity has effectively taken him off the market. It's not long before the curls of smoke alert them something's afoot, his robes now burning, if not quite... ablaze. Fitting, though, if she says so herself. Draco finally finds a use for his salted water and pours it on his friend, nearly extinguishing the flames. Theo follows up a moment later with an Aguamenti of his own.
"Oh, that's just terrible," Ella sighs at the sight of the smouldering robes, and very nearly sounding like she means it. "It'd be such a shame if you had to buy new robes. What with your allowance halved and all..."
Tomasina and Torsten have a good chuckle, recalling the lunchtime exchange.
Well, Harper had promised to try to get the others to keep from interfering with Quidditch. This seems to be fitting that bill. Nicely, in fact. He can't recall enjoying a meal more lately.
Blaise leans forward, nursing his lip and pouting rather comically, and hisses at Draco, "I've 'ad enough, I don't 'are anymore. Tell me we 'an leave now? D'aco? D'aco?"
"Do you suppose we should do something about that?" Pomona asks, gesturing to the Slytherin table. Severus is gone, and it seems like someone should step in, doesn't it? She looks to the others just to be sure.
Hagrid, rather surprisingly, is the first to answer. "The Perfesser said they have some kin' er wager goin'. It'll prolly work itself out if we let 'em." The behaviour is excessive, even for Hogwarts, sure, but he can't help remembering how the Perfesser had said that some of the little rotters had been mean to 'ermione, and he can well imagine who.
No, he supposes this is only fair.
Although it probably doesn't hurt that he's never really forgiven Malfoy for his role in the Buckbeak affair...
Terrence and Rolanda, at any rate, are too busy laughing at the sight to object.
Looking at Mr. Malfoy, nearly completely obscured by clumps of napkin, and the trails of smoke from Mr. Zabini's robes, for once Minerva finds herself inclined to agree. Those robes, in particular call something to mind. "I imagine Severus will be sorry he missed it."
Poppy dissents, "I'm not sure he cares to be reminded of the incident..."
"Perhaps not," Minerva allows.
Filius only adds, "Mr. Zabini really must work on his Protego. Fifth year I taught him that. Fifth year!"
"I suspect it's more difficult when you're in flames," Poppy points out, most fairly. "Are you covering that in class, Professor Taylor?" She can't resist asking.
Terrence looks rather confused, "Should I be?"
"I was convinced that was on the N.E.W.T.s," Poppy doubles down with a smirk. It earns her a sharp look from Minerva, but they're both quite certain Call-Me-Terry won't be trying any such thing. With all the meditating they do in his DADA classes, most days he seems challenged enough merely remaining awake...
Incendios are probably the least of his students' worries.
As Mr. Zabini stands to leave, Rolanda asks with a mischievous twinkle, "I say, should we stop him? He seems to be making off with half the silverware from the look of him."
"Just so we're clear, if you stop him, you get to apply the Unsticking Charms," Poppy points out. "I'm having a well deserved break," and she pops another spoonful of mash into her mouth to emphasise it.
"Godspeed, Mr. Zabini, godspeed," Rolanda answers with a laugh and a small wave.
"Chin chin," Terrence raises his glass to toast her, very much in agreement. "By all means, let him go."
"I imagine the elves will see it's returned at any rate," Minerva reassures them, not that they seem overly concerned.
"Once the silver's... available again? Probably," Poppy agrees with barely suppressed amusement.
When Mr. Malfoy rises a moment later, currently resembling nothing more than a mound of crumpled tissue paper scraps, the faculty watches with bated breath as he appears to waver, presumably trying to decide if dropping the Shield Charm and the bits of napkin with it are worth the bombardment he can almost be certain will follow if he does. Evidently he decides to err on the side of caution - most concur: a wise choice - and the irregular deep green blob shape, trailed closely by Mr. Nott, proceeds to make its way behind Mr. Zabini towards the doors, with the occasional stumble or the other en route. Unimpeded sight shouldn't be undervalued, and of course, in its absence, a few of his Housemates seem to have extended a leg in his path.
Obstructionists.
Clearly.
Ironically, Mr. Malfoy's Protego made it impossible for Mr. Nott to catch his arm as he pitched forward, not that it stopped the boy from trying. His own Protegoed arms closing uselessly on thin air.
The little procession made for quite a sight. The majority of those seated at the High Table manage to curb their impulses to laugh - it would be unseemly - but Terrence and Rolanda know no such inhibitions and fully embrace the humour. Their laughter goes largely unnoticed, however, given the Slytherin table has erupted with it.
The moment, sadly, is interrupted by the arrival of a student.
"Mr. Weasley, what can I do for you?" Minerva asks. Unlike Filius, she remains seated, leaving the boy to stand, fidgeting before her. Severus isn't the only one who enjoys playing with his prey, and Minerva's a good deal more cat-like than he'll ever be.
Naturally.
(no subject)
Date: 2019-03-27 09:44 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-07 07:25 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-14 06:55 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-16 10:05 pm (UTC)Okay, Theo didn’t deserve this. That was unfair. *nods*
(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-23 03:18 pm (UTC)Okay, the mealtime shenanigans were spectacular. Holy shit, Blaise covered in cutlery ("D'aco!" *laughs forever*) and on fire! Spitball-covered Nott and Malfoy trying to make an exit, the head table thoroughly enjoying the show, Hagrid piping up to say they probably needn't bother to step in and Rolanda and Call-Me-Terry completely losing it.
Only to have the moment ruined by Ron Bad Timing Weasley.
Good grief that was a lot of fun! Thanks for all the laughs :D
(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-23 05:32 pm (UTC)Harry tries. He’s never had good role models. Gryffindors tend to suck on the plotting end of the spectrum. But he’s definitely tenacious, and that pays dividends on occasion. Also, he’s only up against other Gryffindors there, so that makes it easier. It’s not like facing Severus (again) or the united front of the Snakes.
Oh, I *suffer* for my work. I sat there with my tongue stuck out, held it firmly between two fingers and tried to see which consonants got swallowed. And ‘D’aco’ it was... 😉
It’s the only explanation I have for some of the stuff that happens in canon is staff must shrug all *kinds* of stuff off. ‘Let Poppy sort ‘em...’ *shrug* Like it doesn’t hurt or something, and that’s still okay?
You are so very welcome. 😊 ❤️
(no subject)
Date: 2019-04-27 11:48 am (UTC)D'aco - will always make me laugh :D
(no subject)
Date: 2019-05-06 11:55 am (UTC)And they’re *way* too easy going when people nearly kill each other. You got lucky and didn’t kill them, or better yet: the other dude got lucky and *survived*. And TPTB are just so binary, either you kill them and we stick you with the Dementors, or you don’t and you get off scot-free. No in between? (No, there isn’t, Ginger. That’s the wrong series altogether. 😉)
(no subject)
Date: 2020-09-29 04:49 pm (UTC)