(1938-01-18) The Pride of Lions
Details for The Pride of Lions
Summary: Lucian pays Lionel a visit to see why his half-brother has been asking about him.
Date: January 18, 1938
Location: Rosie's Caff
Related: Challenges

Rosie's Caff, Hogsmeade

Rosie's Caff is a quaint little restaurant snuggled on Lovage Lane. On the outside, it looks more like a two story cottage, the old wood building painted a gentle beige with maroon wooden plank trim. A hand-painted wooden sign hangs on hinges above the door, gently swaying in the wind, identifying the little restaurant that has quickly become known for its fine pasties.

As soon as one enters the restaurant, the warm, damp air and savory smell of baking bread fills the nose. Scattered about the room are eight tables with four chairs each, all hand-crafted from thick, heavy-looking wood painted maroon. The room is dimly lit by sconces on the walls and a heavy circular chandelier hanging on thick chains above the center of the room made of the same materials, color and craftsmanship as the tables. The windows are all covered with a thick muslin drapery, keeping all of the natural light out, lending a distinctly shadowy, but not unwelcoming, atmosphere to the place. The walls are a textured plaster in a pale grey, the wide, rough wooden trim painted the same maroon as the outside trim. The only paintings or decoration on the wall is a portrait of a young woman with dark hair that hangs beside the door leading to the kitchen and to the upstairs flat. Beneath the painting is a rather plain, upright piano.

Lionel has just returned home after being out the entire night. He's dressed in brown leather pants that lace up the front and a tight gray thermal shirt. An old black trench coat covers all of that and he has an equally well-worn leather satchel hanging off his shoulder. His hair is a bit mussy, and there's a small scrape on his left cheek. The door to the shop is unlocked, but the sign is still flipped to closed. Lionel is standing near the back of the main room, by the painting, and he's slipping the satchel off his shoulder to sit it on the piano bench.

Lucian left the castle as early as possible today to get down to the village ahead of the crowd. His breath fogs against the glass of the shop window as he tries to peer inside. Giving the "closed" sign a frown, he tries the door anyhow. Lo and behold, it opens, so he lets himself in from the cold. Lingering just inside the doorway, he lets his eyes wander about the place until settling on the sole other occupant. "Hello, Lionel."

Lionel doesn't look up at first, certainly not recognizing the voice he hasn't heard in years. "We're closed." He slowly glances at the door, "It'll be another…" He stares at Lucian, and slowly rises to his full height. He hasn't seen Lucian in many years, maybe only a few times at important family gatherings, and yet he immediately recognizes him. He simply responds, "Lucian."

Lucian shoves his hands into his pockets, staying where he is for the moment. "I heard you were asking about me. Bloody well had a poor girl thinking you're out to get me." He face and tone remain neutral. Not exactly the warm family reunion other siblings might have.

Lionel tilts his head slightly, "Miss Evans," he says, deciding he must mean Gabrielle. "Indeed, quite poor. But I think she may have a rich enough heart." He shrugs a bit, "I imagine as a Slytherin, that's not something you'd have noticed."

Lucian scowls, curling his lip. "Don't act like you have a clue about me. I know damn well how much heart Evans has got, and it's a hell of a lot more than most Gryffindors could ever hope to have." He pinches his lips, glancing back at the door. "So what do you want? Or were you just hoping to take a jab at me?"

Lionel watches Lucian for a long moment, and then rolls his eyes, "You're the one who has barged into my closed shoppe, tossing accusations and attitude about. What do YOU want, Lucian?" The corner of his lips upturn just slightly, "Just hoping to take a jab at me, as well?"

"You haven't changed a bit, I see. You asked about me, so I came to see what you wanted." Lucian sighs dejectedly. "Just forget it. This was a stupid idea." He turns, reaching for the door to step back out.

As Lucian turns to reach for the door, Lionel slips his wand from his trench coat and with a simple wave, mutters, "Colloportus." The door locks with a clack and Lionel takes a step forward. "Wait…"

Lucian whirls on Lionel with sudden anger in his eyes, and his wand out. "What the hell is this?" Was Gabrielle right after all?

Lionel slowly lowers his wand, slipping it back into his trench coat. "You don't know me, either. You never have, no more than I you." He purses his lips, glancing away from the boy, then back, "So, fine." He swallows. "Give me a clue about you."

Lucian narrows his eyes suspiciously. He doesn't put his wand away, but at least he isn't pointing it at Lionel. "Well, for starters I tend to be put off when people lock me in a room. Why were you asking about me?"

Lionel tilts his head a bit, and then simply walks in silence to a table halfway between them. He pulls out one chair seemingly for Lucian, then a second, turning the second around to sit in it backward, legs straddling the back of the chair, his elbows on the chair back. "You're the Proudmore no one talks about. And yet, you're also the Proudmore who has had the most influence upon my life." He shrugs a little, "I asked about you because I have no idea who you are, despite my feelings toward you."

Lucian crosses his arms defensively, taking a few steps further in. "I haven't had any influence on your life. Our mother and my father did. Whatever feelings you've got toward me didn't come from me." His eyes remain fixed on Lionel. He maintains a wary distance, both physically and emotionally.

Lionel lifts his brow, and traces a circle with his finger on the table, "Hmm." He slowly exhales, then looks at Lucian once more. "Blame is not always deserved, even if accurate." He shakes his head just a bit, "Your existence has ramifications." He seems to relax a bit then, "You play Quidditch, Lucian?"

Lucian rolls his eyes. "Right. Poor you. My existence made your life hard. Forgive me if I didn't weep from my servant's quarters." He levels a hard glare at his half-brother. "I didn't create me. So take your blame and stow it."

Lionel lifts his brow, "Perhaps it's you who should stow their animosity." He shrugs, "I'm not the one being unfriendly here." He furrows his brow just a little then, "You're taller than I pictured…"

Lucian scoffs, "Blaming me for my existence isn't exactly friendly. I didn't come here to hear about how hard things were on you because I was born. Nor to talk about Quidditch or my growth spurts. Is that seriously all you wanted to know about me?"

Lionel tilts his head then, "Very well." He stares hard at Lucian, "Why did you come here, then?"

"Because you were asking about me, obviously." Lucian grumbles. "Besides, Evans thinks you're hunting me, or some nonsense. I came to find out what's what. That's all."

Lionel nods a little, "I see. So…" He watches Lucian carefully. "You have no desire to know your brother, then. Well." He nods once more, "The door will unlock if you just turn the latch."

Lucian gives a mocking laugh. "Oh, so after sixteen years, you suddenly decide you want to know me, and I'm supposed to be grateful? Merlin. That's a Proudmore for you. Everything is about you." With a parting glare, he goes for the door again.

Lionel scoffs, "Merlin, you are JUST like your damned father." He shakes his head and stands, walking back over to where his satchel sits on the piano bench. "What a waste."

Lucian whirls again, snarling, his knuckles whitening around his wand. "Don't you say that! Don't you EVER say that! Actaeon Proudmore is filth! I was supposed to be his son, and he treated me like garbage! You don't know a thing about it!"

Lionel looks up from his satchel at Lucian. He straightens, "I know more about it than you think. But you're right, I don't know everything." He shrugs, "No more than you know how his actions affected me and my family." He shakes his head, "Sorry to waste your time, Mr. Proudmore."

Lucian growls, "His actions. Not mine." With that, he storms out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

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