| Details for Log Title |
| Summary: | Leander extends an invitation to Eamon to be in his entourage. |
| Date: | Friday, November 2nd |
| Location: | Gardens, Hogwarts |
| Related: | — |
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Leander is wandering through the gardens on this cool, rainy afternoon in search of a specific mushroom that only grows in late autumn - he needs a sample for his Herbology course. It's also a good excuse to get away from the rest of the school, since he's not much of a glutton for attention. He's wearing his usual thick black hooded cloak over his school robes - it's been charmed to ward away the rain. Since England seems to have had an amazing abundance of rain this year (even for England), it's become his favorite article of clothing in short order. The Slytherin boy is hunched over a shrub, his gloved hands digging around underneath it in search of the elusive 'shroom. "Bugger it all…"
Eamon ambles down the hill towards the garden, not bothered overmuch by the rain. It dews in his hair and drips down his cheeks. He spots his quarry searching around and stuffs his hands in his pockets. "Hello, Sly Fox," he greets Leander easily. "Someone told me I could find you down here. You wanted to talk?"
The Dragonhide gloves go scrounging around in the dirt and leaves for a few more seconds before Leander turns at the sound of a voice. He turns, and when he recognizes Eamon, slaps the gloves together once or twice to knock off the worst of the dirt and grime, then pulls one of them off so he can extend a hand to the other boy. "MacCaille." His lips curl into a cool, polite smile. "Yes. I know I stormed off rather quickly after our duel, so I never really got to tell you that I was impressed. Lois mentioned to me that you've got a knack for Runes, too - is that true?"
Eamon clasps Leander's hand firmly, grinning in reply, same old mischevious grin as always. "Sorry about that mess, Fox. I got it back in spades the next time with Seamus. He fired off a lucky shot, caught me right in the chest. If ye ever want a rematch, I'd be happy to oblige, but I imagine ye'll have more than enough practice upcoming." He licks his lips, blue eyes flicking curiously across Leander's face. "Runes? Oh, aye, quite the knack, as ye say. Why?"
"Sorry to hear that, MacCaille. I suppose you're right about that, but I might take you up on your offer anyway - more practice never hurts." Most people would probably be grinning when making that kind of declaration, but Leander is totally straight-faced, as usual. When Eamon answers his query, the Slytherin nods thoughtfully and stands still for a while, then looks up to meet the other boy's eyes with his own dark pair. "In that case, I'd like you to come to Durmstrang as part of my escort. You've already proven you can be decisive, and you possess a useful - and rare - skill."
It takes a moment for Eamon to catch up, eyebrows knitted, on what Leander's asking him exactly. And then a wide smile crosses is face. "Boy, you're a Slytherin after all. Well, I'd thought to be going as the Hogwarts champion, but that's just as well." His eyes squint and there's that mischevious grin again. "Wonder if I can get Lois to knit me some extra jumpers too," jokes the Gryffindor.
Leander idly tugs off the other glove, and after shaking the pair off, shoves them haphazardly into one of his pockets. "Good. I'll be glad to have you at my back, MacCaille. And I won't forget the favor." The Slytherin smiles another one of his thin smiles. That last bit causes him to scoff, though, and his ghostly pallor reddens a bit at the thought. "I think you'll want to avoid such a request," he deadpans in what /might/ be a witticism… or not. "I don't think I'm going to have any luck with these blasted mushrooms I'm supposed to find. Want to head over to Hogsmeade with me?" It is Friday, after all, and there's hot butterbeer to be had.
Eamon glances about dubiously at the garden and says cheerfully, "I'm bloody pants at herbology anyway. Destroying things I can do, charging off into the unknown? Brilliant. Keeping things alive?" The blond grimaces and shakes his head. "Rubbish. Well. Maybe Mabel can come up with something for me." He eyes Leander sidelong. "I guess now I have an excuse to ask her out again, eh? The Yule Ball. See? You're paying back a favor already." Bright sides everywhere!
"I can sympathize. Herbology is /not/ my favorite subject," Leander says, the slight scowl that crawls over his lips emphasizing his statement. One of his dark brows arches up when Eamon suggests that he actually /wants/ some kind of knitted monstrosity to wear, but he says nothing else on the subject. "Ah - I'd nearly forgotten about the Yule Ball." Well, not exactly forgotten, it's just that he's never actually /taken/ anyone before this year. He frowns and starts off down the path towards the school's entrance, waiting a bit so that the Gryffindor can keep up at first.
Eamon is poor! If someone else knits him sweaters he doesn't have to find them! And then he can blame the monstrocity on someone else instead of having to admit to hand me down purchases. "Er, isn't that why ye invited Lois? I mean… well, aside from her being a brilliant witch, that is. But. I figured ye'd want to take her as yer date. I guess I'm making a lot of assumptions. Mabel might not even /want/ to be my date." Eamon's eyebrows knit. He worries too much. "To be honest, I'm not even sure she likes me like that. She's very… aloof."
Leander shakes his head, a few drops of water falling from his bangs as he does (the hood isn't /quite/ covering all of them). "I asked Lois because she'll be useful to have along. And, well… I'm glad she's coming, of course," he says slowly, his hands slipping into his pockets. Yeah, he's really not a romantic. "I don't know Mabel too well - I've only run into her once or twice, even though she's Lois's cousin. She's obviously somewhat fond of you if she went to the Dance last night with you, though, MacCaille."
A long measured look is given to Leander. Nope, Eamon doesn't believe him. /He/ saw them Wednesday night. Proof that Leander is not as apathetic as he seems. "You say that, but Mabel goes out with people all the time. Well, anyway. It doesn't hurt to ask her." Long legs keeping up with Leander easily, the adventuresome boy says, "What do you suppose they'll have for the tournament this year? Or do you not want to even think about it yet?"
"Hm. Well, my brother's like that as well - still, he rarely spends time on those he doesn't have a genuine interest in." Leander shrugs noncommittally, his dark eyes going to the cobbled walkway. The question makes him look up and over at Eamon, and he shakes his head. "Well, I've been thinking about it - but I don't think it'll do much good to try and guess. From what I've read, they seem to put quite a lot of effort into making the challenges extremely difficult to anticipate…" The boy removes his hands from his pockets so he can wrap his arms around himself briefly to ward off some of the chilly autumn air. "At any rate, I think I'll try to focus on honing my skills, instead."
Eamon nods his head and smirks. "Then, I guess many a duel is in your future. They use a lot of magical creatures, from what I've read, so you'll want to make it a point to study up on that. Hm. That should be the next person you should consider asking, someone who's good with magical creatures. I don't know how you feel about him, but I hear Lucian's a fair hand at it."
Leander nods, his lips parting in another quick smile. "Yes, I'd thought of that - Proudmore's on my list already. He's quite adept at a number of skills, so if he accepts, I'll definitely want him along." Actually, he has no doubt the other Slytherin will accept, but there's no need to sound pompous. "Do you happen to know anyone who's especially good at Potions?" As the pair make their way towards Hogsmeade, the conversation turns towards more likely candidates.
"Warren or Soleil," Eamon says without hestitation, and then tells Leander about all the other people he knows who happen to specialize in very useful things as they take the path down to Hogwarts.