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Post by Miles Bletchley on May 20, 2008 18:41:32 GMT -5
Don't Really Wanna Be Here Adjusting his robes, and attempting to get past the feeling of regret that had entered his stomach as soon as he'd decided to actually attend the feast, Miles Bletchley made his way through the large double doors and allowed the emotion of sickness, to openly flit across his facial features. His robes fit him smugly, as always, and seemed to make him taller than his actual height of just over 6 feet. One hand was balled into a fist at his side, the other hand limp in his pocket. His mahogany eyes flickered across the entire room, as he noted that there seemed to be more students this year. Or, perhaps his mind was attempting to fool around with him. A sneer immediately set into play, as Miles crossed the wide floor and approached the Slytherin table. Approaching one younger student imparticular, he muttered "Move." and immediately took the boy's place. While others of his small pack, seemed to hasten to do the same.
Miles wasn't exactly the most popular Slytherin, but along with a few, he was certainly the meanest. Or so he was told. He simply thought the word 'cold-hearted' described him better. Though, other's would certainly say 'heartless' was best. His hands were folded across his chest, and he abruptly let out a low growl, as if warning people to stay away from him. He wasn't trying to scare anyone, and he doubted his black mood was, unless they were young years. But he was hoping to ward people away from him. This was the last place he had truly wanted to be, and he didn't have to let anyone know why. It was known. Miles Bletchley was one of those most unsocial Slytherins there were. In fact, some had said he was the most unsocial person in school. But, given his dating record, that was clearly untrue. Though none of the relationships worked out, they steal meant he was willing to try a bit.
Running a hand through his hair, he added a fake laught to an unheard joke that someone had told him off to the side, as he shifted, and without warning, entirely turned his back on the boy. His eyes flickered across each House's table, and a sneer crossed his face whenever he connected eyes with the other Head Boys and Girls. They returned the sneer fullfledged, all excepting Hufflepuff, whose heads sort of shrugged, and went back to chattering. He grinned inwardly, thinking of how indifferant the Hufflepuffs were. They never seemed to bicker or argue, and they were never really competition when it came to house points. Perhaps, this year alone, alliances would be made. Miles wouldn't have a care in the world if Ravenclaw and Gryffindor teamed up against Slytherin, as always. But he did want to see what Hufflepuff could do when provoked.
(poem tis (c) to blue october (love that song!))
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Post by Donald Booher on May 20, 2008 19:24:21 GMT -5
Donald had walked into the Great Hall after he was certain the Sorting Ceremony was over, he hated seeing the first years being sorting because it was also so tedious and boring. As he thought about it, he remembered his own sorting where he'd been sorted into Slytherin. Looking back all those years, he remembered his nervousness of having to try on a patched and frayed hat. It had looked so dirty and contaminated, it probably still did. Sniffing in distaste, he looked around from the huge double doors what led into the feast. As usual the Great Hall was packed with chatting students stuffing their faces. Donald didn't know how anyone could truly stand the smell of it all, all those bodies packed together in one room eating, all the food in their teeth with those demented looks on their faces. Shaking his head, he licked his lips softly, wondering where to sit. It had only been just last night he'd been moved from Slytherin House into Gryffindor, and he wasn't used to all the changes yet or the new robes. True the green robes of Slytherin had always made him look quite dashing, but now that he had to wear the red robes of Grydffindor he felt a bit dowdy. Running his hand through his hair nervously, he sighed again.
Looking from one side of the hall to the other, Donald had to actually debate at which table he was allowed to sit at or welcomed at. The Gryffindors surely wouldn't want him sitting at their table as for six years now he'd been among the Slytherins. Gryffindors and Slytherins hated each other on principal, so why would any of the want him sitting at their table? Eyeing the Slytherin table, he wondered if he'd still be accepted there as he had been a Slytherin for six years and was well known there for his magical strength and talents. Shrugging, he decided to take a chance and walked over to the Slytherin table. Even in the robes of Gryffindor he had to wear these days, he found the courage to do this. Walking up to a boy he knew as Miles Bletchly, he tapped Miles softly on the shoulder from behind. "Mind if I join you?" he asked in a nervous voice, wondering about the welcome or departing words that could possibly be said. Such thoughts occurred to him and he did worry about them somewhat, but he had been beaten enough in his life to know not to show any emotion other than uncaring indifference to everything.
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Post by Phoebus Ackerman on May 21, 2008 0:55:50 GMT -5
Maybe he was messed up. Maybe he wasn't. Whatever the reason, Phoebus talked little and looked around less. He felt empty inside, but not because he was hungry; no. He wasn't hungry at all.
Passing the table laid out in green, a flash of red caught his eye. Gryffindor? Couldn't be. Not here in enemy territory. Phoebus swiveled around to find that telltale streak of scarlet, but it was lost in the green. He sighed and turned, but out of the corner of his eye-there it was again! This time his gaze shot to the color again, and he was right. A Gryffindor, looking moderately at ease among the green, stood besides Miles Bletchley. What was the boy doing? Suicide wish?
Phoebus rolled his eyes and shouldered his way through the crowd. As soon as he came within earshot of the other Gryffindor, he glanced back at the other's face and frowned. He was a seventh-year, that was for sure. But Phoebus had never seen him in the common room or in classes. Exchange student? What the hell are you doing, whoever you are? Do you want to get killed? he hissed as soon as he could hiss without anyon else hearing. He scanned the table to see if Diane had mysteriously appeared at the Slytherin table, but apparently not yet.
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Post by Donald Booher on May 21, 2008 1:04:53 GMT -5
Donald had seen the Gryffindor coming over to him. The fact the boy talked to him in such a way made the corner of his mouth twitch. The only reason the boy wasn't being shouted at now or hexed for such behavior was because Donald knew the boy to be Diane's brother and had more respect for Diane than that. Sneering coldly, he looked at the blond Gryffindor with narrowed eyes. "What's it to you?" he asked sarcastically, crossing his arms over his chest defensively and giving a distasteful sniff of the air to show the boys presence annoyed him. "Also I do believe I have a name, Gryffindor, and it's time you learned it. Just because I was forcibly made to switch over to Gryffindor House last night does not mean any of you have authority over me. Especially that Potter filth or the blood-traitor Weasley. I saw you leaving with Potter a bit ago. Why were you looking so down when you came back here? You're little boyfriend dump you already? A real shame, guess Potter does have sense."
Shaking his head, he sighed. He had seen Harry and this boy leaving the Great Hall a short time ago, but why? Why was the boy concerned about Donald being where he was? To Donald, Slytherin would always be home even if he was afraid of snakes. "If you must have your way my name is Donald, won't give you my surname even if you are Diane's brother."
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Post by Diane Ackerman on May 21, 2008 1:22:36 GMT -5
Diane managed to fall on the way into the Great Hall. Not only was it humiliated beyond imagining, she had fallen on her already-injured knee with all the grace of a Muggle child's wooden block. So with a not-very-customary scowl, she limped over to the Slytherin table. A congregation of Miles-oh, so he'd left after her but ended up getting there before her...figured-and two Gryffindors, one of which she recognized as her prat brother, so help me Salazar. The girl's frown deepened, and, limp forgotten, she strode over to the trio.
Fee. What the hell are you doing at our table? she asked flatly, and while Phoebus was thinking of an answer, she turned to the other Gryffindor. Blinked a few times. Then, Booher? You've been reSorted? I didn't see you last night. Thought you were in the Hospital wing or something... She shrugged uneasily. So I guess you've met the bubblehead. Sadly, he is related. Doesn't seem like it. She shot a venomous glare at her brother and asked coldly, as if she already knew, What exactly were we talking about. Oh, hello, Bletchley, she said in passing, and then fixed Donald and Phoebus in turn with intent stares.
Sorry it took a while to get down here. I needed to go back to the common room for a while. Haven't seen it all summer and damn I have missed it, she said offhandedly as she waited for Donald to answer. It seemed obvious that Phoebus wouldn't.
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Post by Donald Booher on May 21, 2008 1:30:38 GMT -5
Donald looked toward Diane and nodded politely in greeting, his arms still crossed over his chest and a malicious look on his face. "That bint McGonagall found my journal I dropped last year and positively insisted to the Headmistress that I be sorted into Gryffindor at once. Can't possibly tell you why. All I know is they put me in Gryffindor and I absolutely hate how this stinking red clashes with my eyes. Furthermore, your brother apparently came over here to lecture me about being in what he called 'enemy territory' and asking if I had a death wish. First I thought he may be threatening me. Though then I realized he didn't have enough marbles in his sac, metaphorically speaking, to register a threat to begin with."
Chuckling darkly, he turned his narrowed eyes on Phoebus face. "You may find this interesting, Diane, but just a short while ago your brother here left the hall trailing after Potter. Unless you want him following Potter like a crushing schoolgirl, I'd advise you to entrust him to my care." He turned to her, hoping an understanding silently passed between them to show he had interest in her brother and would clearly be the dominating yet loving darkness Phoebus life so desperately needed. "I'd hate to see such good stock go to spoils.."
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Post by Miles Bletchley on May 21, 2008 10:53:53 GMT -5
Don't Really Wanna Be Here Rolling his eyes at the commotion around him, Miles folded his arms back over his chest, and issued a disgruntled growl. His eyes took in the red robes of both the boys, as he shifted in his seat. His lips twitched once, and suddenly, an eerie, low laugh, trickled past his lips. He shook his head firmly, as he turned to Booher. "Gryffindor?" As soon as the word ended, the laughter seized completely, and his eyes narrowed to a glare. "Just be glad you're of pureblood. But i sware the moment you start googling over Potter or the likes, you'll come to regret it. I can understand how this whole switch was beyond your control. But, as you well know, I'm not exactly an overaccepting person. I won't think twice of ruining you."
His eyes flickered to Pheobus, and he simply eyed, intolerantly, for a moment, before letting his gaze shift to Diane. "Pleasure, Ackerman. Ah, so I finally catch a glimpse of the sibling. I can already see why he is untasteful to you." Turning to place a selective glare on a rambling first year, he shiftted his robes, allowing the firsty to glimpse his badge. The head boy would not be as tolerant this year, as the last few had. His mahogany eyes waited only a moment, as the first year eagerly switched seats with a knowledgable second year, who sat quietly with his eyes to the plate before him. Turning back to the group, his eyes rested on Diane for a moment, all emotions flickering to a stand still, as his visage seemed to turn void of them all. As if noting that he still hadn't spoken to the younger Ackerman, he rose and let out a hand sarcastically. "I'm Miles Bletchley. Since we won't be seeing much of eachother, there will be no need for you to have something to call me, such as Miles or Bletchley. I do hope that you won't seek me out for advice or help throughout this year. I'd certainly be the worst person to turn to." A smirk flickered to his lips as he flashed both Diana and Donald a knowing glance. They would certainly agree that he would be the last person for anyone to turn to, unless they were one of the select few in his inner circle. He was known as a feirce ally AND a feirce enemy.
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Post by Phoebus Ackerman on May 24, 2008 20:31:12 GMT -5
At the no-longer-Slytherin-apparently-boy's comments, Phoebus would most likely have turned scarlet. Yet the odd events of the evening had evidently played havoc with his circulatory system. His throat and three of his right knuckles blushed magenta. Hidden in his sleeves, the back of his upper arms reacted to his momentary burst of (embarrassment? anger? he himself couldn't tell) and turned a remarkable cinnamon-ish color. He, however, did not react besides his alien coloration.
Involuntarily, he stepped back when his twin appeared abruptly on the scene. 'Allo, Di, he muttered, ignoring whatever withering glances might be heading his way-from her or anyone else. Phoebus glanced back to Donald and his anger returned. I apologize for trying to help you not get killed, he said acidly. If any of the other Gryffindors approached this damned table, have no fear that they would probably be decapitated as soon as they were within cursing distance. And since I hadn't seen you around, I figured you were new and therefore were ignorant to the way of bubbleheaded Slytherins. But don't worry, next time you look like you're about to die, I'll leave you to it.
Rant over, Phoebus was about to turn to go back to his table when he heard Donald's last sentences. Almost instantly, he froze. As if he had been put under Petrificus Totalus, he stood stiffly and coldly to hear their next words. Yet the spell-if it was a spell, which it most likely wasn't-was broken when the third Slytherin (he counted Donald as a Slytherin; old habits died hard) rose and introduced himself, although it wasn't needed for the Gryffindor, who already knew him. At his last two sentences, Phoebus laughed jerkily. I doubt I will need to, your Head Boyishness, he replied bitterly.
He then realized that Diane had not cursed him, begun ranting at him, or said anything to him at all, and turned.
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Post by Diane Ackerman on May 24, 2008 20:38:55 GMT -5
Diane froze at Donald's news. Phoebus and...Potter? It was happening again?? She stepped backwards from her brother. You sicken me, she hissed under her breath at him, cold grey-green eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. I knew you were twisted like this, and- she waved a hand at Donald almost dismissively, but not really -I'm over his little I-am-out-of-the-closet thing, thanks to his carelessness with his journal-but Potter? For the love of everything unholy, you're not only bi, but you have horrible taste?! The boy isn't even a pureblood!
Diane almost shrieked the last word, but few heads turned. The hall was filled with bubbly chatter and her cry was lost. Yet her wand was already in her hand and she was visibly restraining herself from cursing Phoebus into many, many little bits of jelly. Take him, she snarled from between clenched teeth, the words obviously directed to Donald. But don't keep him away from just Scarhead. Keep him away from me, or you may find yourself abruptly alone and myself an only child. Her wand was already emitting furious burgundy sparks and her fingers trembled on its handle.
The seventh year stepped back again and seated herself unsteadily at the table. And now you know exactly why I hate him so, she muttered under her breath to both Miles and Donald, probably the only people she would have talked to the year before. Suddenly feeling dizzy, Diane clunked her head noisily down on the table and said in a muffled tone, Go away, to everyone in general, although her tone was directed pointedly to Phoebus and Donny. Though she doubted that either Miles nor Fee-they were both stubborn, about the only thing that was common about them-would leave. But then she raised her head again and glared at Phoebus. Now, she spat at him. I'll deal with your issues later. Go, she said again, and then her forehead re-descended upon the table, and she did not move from her position for about ten or fifteen minutes.
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Post by Donald Booher on May 24, 2008 21:19:47 GMT -5
Donald hadn't really paid attention to anything Miles had said because it was clearly of no consequence to him. A sneer plastered on his face, he listened to Diane's anger rising with hidden satisfaction. The look on Phoebus face was enough of a confirmation to Donald that Diane wouldn't suspect his true motive or reason for making it look like he was now in charge of the boy. A devious smile plastered on his face, he took Phoebus by the arm and pulled him away from the Slytherin Table with a spiteful "Come on, you don't belong here." His smirk was plastered in place until they had at least gotten out of earshot, and then his smile fell and he became serious. Leaning close, he whispered in Phoebus ear. "Come on, don't say anything just yet and just trust me. I'll explain everything later. But when you see Diane and the other Slytherins coming you'll have to pretend to be upset and depressed, acting as if I own you. If you don't, the ruse won't work. Sorry for the harsh words back there, but..." Donald quickly looked around to make sure no students were eavesdropping on their conversation. "There was a reason I was switched this year from Slytherin to Gryffindor.."
As he walked away from the Slytherin table, not even Donald himself looked back because he knew if he did the other Slytherins would get suspicious and start talking. At least in this way it made him look as if he was taking command over Diane's brother just as he said he'd do. But he was truly leading Phoebus away from evil, destruction, and despair among the serpents of the school. "Please, just listen to me Fee, we need to talk somewhere after the feast. If you can, sit beside me at the Gryffindor table and look down in the dumps even if your happy. While at the opening feast here, we must play a part. Thank you for trying to rescue me back there, but you didn't need to, I've been playing my part well for six year. Those idiots shall never see through my mask."
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Post by Phoebus Ackerman on May 24, 2008 23:53:40 GMT -5
Locked in his cold little world, Donny's fingers on his arm felt like they rested on stone. She knows. Bloody hell. She knows, Phoebus said aloud. You couldn't keep your little serpent-tongue mouth shut, could you? So now both Harry and I-mainly him-are in danger, serious danger. He turned on the other with a stormy expression. So, Donald, you've played your part well. So well, in fact, that I might possibly drop dead tomorrow. So please forgive me if I'm not that happy to go along with your little plan, whatever it may be! And for the love of everything holy, don't call me that effin' name. Only my friends or evil sister call me that, and you are firmly on my 'enemy' list! Deciding that he was indeed a hothead at heart, since that was his second rant in as many minutes, he abruptly jerked his arm out of Donny's grip and lost himself amongst the crowd of the hall.
Yet as he drifted along in the swirling current of people, most of which were first years communicating eagerly with friends that had been sorted into different houses, he reflected bitterly that Diane would have found out sooner or later. So was it really Donald's fault? What was his fault? And what was Phoebus' own? Grimacing slightly, he shook his head as if to clear it. Too many philosophical questions on an empty stomach and a confused soul. His attention shifted to the sudden tiny height of the first-years around him. Had he really been that short once? ...an odd question. He shook his head again. Your life is in danger and you're thinking about how tall you are? Are you taking on Diane's self-centeredness? he muttered to himself. He knew that was a lie, though-Diane was rarely vain but never generous, unselfish but impossible to gain charity from, infrequently claiming her self-worth but not telling other people they were better. He grimaced again. Reveries, were, apparently, his thing.
He spotted an empty place near the door and sat down heavily there. Imitating his twin, he plunked his forehead down on the cool wood and breathed out a sigh. Things are very complicated at school this year, he murmured to himself, ignoring his stomach's continued pleas for food.
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Post by Donald Booher on May 25, 2008 11:28:15 GMT -5
Donald had merely huffed and went off to sit at the very end of the Gryffindor tables closest to the doors. He knew Diane would be watching them closely from now on, but Donald had faith that Phoebus would play his part in the end. Donald was a bit angry with the words Phoebus had spoken, but he bit back his smart retort as he sat there munching on a speared sausage he'd forked. Licking his lips, he could feel the juices from the sausage slowly rolling down his chin. It wasn't long, however, before Donald saw someone sit down across the table from him. By now he knew who this boy was and it seemed that somehow the boy kept being drawn to him in some way. Donald himself found this quite strange and yet very pleasing at the same time. Shrugging, he lay the sausage on his plate and wiped his mouth clean before speaking. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said back there but as I already explained to you, if I hadn't said those things or acted in that way around them then everything would have come to light. Yes, I did tell her about you leaving with Potter, but rest assured that with Diane thinking you're in my care and protection now she won't go after Potter as long as you stay away from him. Diane may have a black heart, but she isn't a fool. All the staff in the castle have been helping to protect Potter from his very first day here, and Diane isn't fool enough to try anything stupid in front of them." Sighing, he shook his head and pushed a plate toward Phoebus that had mashed potatoes, steamed vegetables, roast chicken, and gravy on it. "Come on, eat something. You're back is to the Slytherins now and even if they see you moving around a bit they'll think you're being snarky and that your miserable. So it's okay, you can be yourself now."
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Post by Phoebus Ackerman on May 25, 2008 19:29:05 GMT -5
I will not eat, Phoebus said bluntly. He lifted his head slightly and set his chin on the edge of the table. His blue-grey eyes were focused intently on the other's face. If looks could kill, he reflected...If it keeps me from dying-because although he might have his arse protected by about three million people of the Wizarding world, I don't-I'll go along with your plan, whatever it may be. And I actually don't see why I'd need your 'protection,' seeing as the only dangerous person around me seems to be my sister. And if she doesn't get me at school, it'll be over hols, at home. And if I... His voice trailed off and his eyes went sharp. But I guess you already know how evil she is? As you were a Slytherin before, as she put it, your little 'I-am-out-of-the-closet' thing?
At this point, he let his forehead bang down on the table again. Oddly enough, his appetite for any food at all had been directly and abruptly cut off, and he let out a sigh. No doubt he would be regretting his lack of food later that evening. Look, he said coldly to the floor, how can I go along with your plan if I don't even know what it is? Am I supposed to have Legilimency or something? Phoebus' wand was suddenly in his hand and spinning rapidly, a habit he had-inexplicably-picked up from his sister. The faster it twirled, the more agitated he was, and currently it was spinning so fast it was almost blurring. It's not just her that I'm worried about, though. I'm mostly used to her. But if anyone-anyone, Donny-finds out that I let an ex-Slytherin take advantage of me, I will be ostracized from pretty much everyone. I know everyone in the school, and that's only a mild exaggeration. Phoebus let out another anxious sigh and turned his head crookedly to crack a small cramp that had somehow built up in his neck. As soon as the ominous-sounding crack rang out, he relaxed slightly and set his chin on the wood again. So this is already not the best year.
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Post by Donald Booher on May 25, 2008 20:00:53 GMT -5
Donald just watched as Fee swung his wand in circles. He knew what this meant by Diane having done it countless times over the years. Smiling softly, he reached out and grabbed the boys wrist to stop it from spinning. Truth be told, the similarities between the two twins was obvious to anyone. "Listen to me, we cannot talk about the plans and things here. Too many ears and anyone could be listening in. Besides, if word got out to the Slytherins why the sorting hat had placed me there in the first place I'd be dead by morning." Donald quickly looked up and down the table before he spoke again, he wanted to make sure they weren't overheard. "Listen, we need to talk somewhere privately, do you know of any place?" Blinking a few times, Donald saw Harry go walking past behind Phoebus and gave the boy a wave which Harry returned with a small smile and wave in return. Donald watched Harry closely, then blinked in surprise when Harry sat down beside him. Though looking down the table, Donald supposed it was the only available seat.
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Harry had just returned from the Room of Requirement, and his talk with Phoebus hadn't gone well. Sighing, he pulled a plate of chicken toward himself and began to eat slowly, his eyes looking from one boy to the other suspiciously. What Phoebus had said back in the Room of Requirement was true, but that didn't really matter to Harry. He was tired of being alone. Harry had heard what Phoebus had said, and merely scowled at the boy.
"I don't know what your talking about, Phoebus, but Donald here is one of the nicest people I've ever met. The fact he was a Slytherin all these years never stopped him from talking to me or us being friends. Sure we never spoke when other Slytherins were around because he had to keep mum, but he isn't a liar and isn't evil. You can take my word on that." Harry's eyes were burning into Phoebus own as Harry spoke, in this way showing Harry himself was speaking the truth. "So if you can't trust Donald, then you can't trust me or Dumbledore either." Scowling heavily, Harry picked up the plate of chicken and walked away down the table, taking an empty seat that had just opened up beside Hermione.
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"Don't know what his problem is..." Donald said thoughtfully, looking after Harry as Harry walked away. "But he's right, he and I have been friends for at least five years now. Tons of letters by owl. Nobody else never knew of course, until you just now."
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Post by wowposter on Sept 2, 2008 2:52:02 GMT -5
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Post by wowposter on Sept 4, 2008 21:32:37 GMT -5
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Post by wowposter on Sept 10, 2008 5:15:49 GMT -5
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Post by wowpower on Sept 15, 2008 4:40:07 GMT -5
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