| Details for Admiring the View |
| Summary: | Douglas is trying to relax and finds himself interupted by Howarts youngest student who is then chased off by the Gorgon. |
| Date: | 4 October 1938 |
| Location: | Ramparts, Hogwarts |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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The ramparts of Hogwarts Castle are massive and provide an uninterrupted pathway all along the outside of the castle as well as giving any visitor an amazing view of the surrounding grounds, Hogwarts Lake, the Forbidden Forest and even Hogsmeade. The view is only interrupted by some of the taller towers of the castle like the Astronomy Tower or the Owlery. The ramparts themselves have chest height walls to either side creating a six foot wide corridor. Every two feet or so crenelations rise up another three feet making the walls almost eight feet tall at those points. Strong winds tend to blow along the ramparts frequently making it a particularly uncomfortable place to be at during the winter but making it nice and cool during the hottest days of summer.
It's a relatively nice night, and therefore perhaps a little unusual that there appear to be very few students up on the roof here, enjoying it. Of course, it might be because it's not all that warm and the wind does tend to the brisk, or it might be because most conscientious students are studying hard or winding down for the night. Douglas is not and has never been describe as conscientious. Nope. He's up here, sprawled out in what cannot possibly be a comfortably position, on one of the crenelations, feet dangling down over the drop below, watching the stars.
Needing to be as far away from school as possible without being away from school little Fiona Donnelly has taken it upon herself to find somewhere to get away from it all. Just her luck a stinking older boy is there. With a sigh Fiona leans against the wall, her head barely reaching the top of one of the crenelations. "Did you know it was William the Conqueror who first brought castles into Britain? They came in pre-made pieces shipped as cargo in longboats from Normandy."
Douglas rolls over to prop himself up on an elbow, peering down at the voice. "Huh? I didn't realise it was random information night," he rejoins with a half grin. "Well… did you know that elephants can't jump? What are you doing up here?"
"I'm not an elephant," says Fiona, in case this wasn't clear to Douglas. "I came up here because I just had an — I wanted to get away. Sometimes it is noisy inside and I'm not used to it. My house is really quiet. I am used to being outside a lot more too."
"I hear that," Douglas agrees after a moment, giving her a slow nod. "Well, this is one of the quietest places in the school at this time of night. No snoring, either, which is a definite bonus. In the daytime, I'd say down by the cliffs is better. There's a couple of trees there, which nobody ever bothers you in." Apparently he's being magnanimous today and sharing 6 years of Hogwarts experience of skiving and hiding with the younger girl. "I mean, you know, if you get out of class early. Because you should totally go to all your classes."
"There are some nice crevasses in the cliffs too, but you are too big for them," says Fiona in exchange. "Where inside is it good to hide?" She looks up at Douglas as if he knows all, because as a seventh year he does when compared to her - at least about things like this. "Somewhere say big enough for two people. Smallish people."
Douglas just eyes her. "Two people? Oh, come on! You're a first year! No. I'm not telling you that. Ew. Just… ew. You can find those places when you're older."
Fiona makes a face. "Gross! Not for that!" She sounds disgusted at the idea. "Sometimes you want to tell secrets and you can't do that just anywhere. You need somewhere good for that."
"Uh huh," Douglas responds, eyeing her in disbelief. "Well maybe you shouldn't be telling anyone secrets? I mean, they're called secrets for a reason, right?" He watches her for a second, then rolls his eyes, relenting. "Fifth floor corridor, behind the statues on the left hand side. It's a good sized spot to hide if Pringle's on the rampage."
She thinks about that and nods as if committing the idea to memory. Then out of nowhere she asks him, "Would you go against your family and run off to live with a muggle born?" The thing about being a Donnelly is that there aren't quite so many of them, well a fair few but all from the same family. Fiona's brother, Aidan, graduated last year from Gryffindor and it was well known that his girlfriend was muggle born.
Douglas just stares at her like she's got two heads. "Uh… no?" he states, as though it's a question that doesn't even need to be asked. "Why would you go and live with one of them? I mean… just why? No offence to them or anything, I'm sure they try really hard, but… just no." He shrugs a shoulder. "I mean, can you imagine settling down with one? You'd have to house train them."
Fiona looks down at her feet and finds a twig that was likely dropped by a bird. She picks it up and leans over to drop it down over the edge. "I don't understand it either. I wondered if it was something people thought about when they got older or if it was, as I suspected, just that my brother is stupid." She watches as the twig gets caught by the wind and gravity, spinning as it makes its way down.
Douglas scratches at his neck. "Well, it sure sounds like he is," he agrees mildly. "I mean, you know… one night, sure, but living with them?" He wrinkles his nose, then pauses, remembering who he's talking to. "Uh. To… uh… have a sleepover. For a night."
The first year rolls her eyes and looks over at Douglas. "I am eleven. I know what coitus is." Fiona simply never plans on using that knowledge. Gross! "Maybe that is it. Maybe he is a hormonal teenager and cannot thing beyond that. I have heard muggle girls are easy. Is that what that means? That they are easy to do that with?"
Douglas turns his gaze to the sky. "I am not having this conversation with a midget ten year old."
"I am eleven," repeats Fiona. Clearly Douglas is a bit dense.
"Midget eleven year old," Douglas corrects, rolling his eyes. "No, wait, let me guess, eleven and a quarter, eh? I know the quarter's the important bit to kids like you."
"No. Just eleven." Fiona shoves her hands into her robes. "My birthday is the last day of August." She really is just eleven. "I am the youngest person in the school."
"Then I am definitely not talking about women with you," Douglas decides firmly. "Shouldn't you be in bed or something? Curled up with a teddy?"
It is the sound of shoes which herald the arrival of the great gorgon. Her moonlit pale hair whips around Medusa's face as she walks along the palisades. For some reason there is a red bump on her forehead. There is a scratch and a hiss sound which isn't immediately easy to identify but then there is the scent of smoke. Hearing voices Medusa carries on around a corner, one hand behind her back. Seeing a tiny first year and the current bane of her existence she calls out, "Scram," and levels her gaze on the small unknown Ravenclaw.
"It is alright, I can read all about it in books an—" whatever Fiona had been going to say never comes out because her head swivels towards the sound of the Gorgon's voice. She pales and looks at Douglas then at Medusa and runs off not wanting to be petrified.
Douglas props his chin on his hand, shifting his gaze over towards the unfamiliar sound, and then the all too familiar 'scram'. "Now look what you've done, Malfoy," he chides the girl. "You scared off the baby crow. Do you feel good about yourself? Do you?" he mocks, cracking an easy grin as he makes his presence known by actually sitting up. "Nice plook," he adds with a nod to her forehead.
Medusa blatantly ignores Douglas as she walks over to the crenelations. She pulls her hand from behind her back and takes a pull off her cigarette. "I am sure the little bird will live. Unless you have decided to start younger than sixth years?" Her gaze travels the length of him and without an invitation she climbs up to join him. "Do you know people actually think I killed you."
"Does being dead get me out of classes for the year?" Douglas muses, brows raising as he ponders the possibilities. "How did you kill me? Was it a good death, at least? I mean, if you just sat on me to death, that's not ideal. And probably implies you should lose some weight."
"I blew you up in potions class," says Medusa. She offers him the lit cigarette, figuring if she gets caught he will too. She is kind-hearted like that. "My gorgon stare isn't enough anymore. I can't just be petrifying people with my eyes, now I have to blow them up too."
Douglas accepts the cigarette with a look of surprise, nodding thanks as he lifts it to his lips. Only just before it touches his mouth he pauses, and eyes it. "What's on this?"
"Lipstick." Medusa shivers a little and pulls her robes more tightly around her. "If I wanted to kill you Douglas I'd just push you over the edge." Considering how they are sitting that likely isn't the thing he wants to hear from the girl sat next to him.
"I'd take you with me," Douglas points out, finally taking a drag of the cigarette before handing it back. "It seems the mannerly thing to do. Maybe make sure you go first."
She snorts and takes the cigarette from him. "It is a shame you have no use. You amuse me, Douglas." Medusa takes another pull off the cigarette and offers it back to him. As she breathes out the wind carries the smoke away. "How mean can you be?"
"I live to amuse you, O great Miss Malfoy," Douglas mocks her, taking the cigarette and glancing around before sneaking another draw. "Please, let me join your throng of brainwashed minions. Why, what did you want?"
"To knock Janette Abbott down a few pegs," says Medusa as she watches him. "You don't have to ask to be one of my minions Douglas." She smirks, "Well maybe you have to ask. Just once." Leaning in she lowers her voice to murmur, "Nicely."
Douglas takes another puff of the cigarette, tilting his head back and taking a moment to blow a smoke ring before handing it back over to its owner. "On my knees, wasn't it? Begging? But now you want something from me. What are you offering?"
"Oh come on," protests Medusa. "You know you find her as damned annoying as I do." She draws in a breath through the lit end of the cigarette and mimics or is it mocks him by blowing a smoke ring just past Douglas' face but not in it, as if to prove whatever he can do she can too. "I like a bit of negotiation. Lay out your opening demand and then I will name my counter offer." She flicks the ash off the end of the cigarette and holds it out to him to finish off.
"She's also as nutty as a squirrel's larder," Douglas points out, accepting the butt. "You wouldn't believe it, but I got this note earlier from some Slytherin girl warning me off her. Probably jealous."
Medusa tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "No opening gambit then? No laying your cards on the table to see what I have?" Her lips twitch with humour. "Or maybe it was someone who didn't want there to even be a tiny off chance of the gene pool being contaminated with any more of whatever created that."
"My cards are staying right where they are," Douglas insists with a smirk, taking a last puff of the cigarette before dropping the butt and stubbing it out with one booted foot. "The thing is, Malfoy, I know what you've got. And it's nice to look at, sure. I'm not denying that. But I want to know what you're offering. How much does it mean to you to show the snowsnake who's boss?"
She thinks on that as if running through what there is that Medusa can offer. Were this last year she would have more, but that whole incident with the Mud Club has cost her. "I hate the bitch but I am not going to whore myself out for revenge on some girl." Now she wishes she had that cigarette for something to do with her hands but the thing about illicit smoking is you don't want to get caught with more than one.
"But you would whore yourself out for something more," Douglas points out, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head. "So now we're just negotiating your price, hm? All right, your obvious lust for me aside, tell me what you want from me and I'll give you my offer."
"No I would not," says Medusa sharply. She might be a bit of a tease and is certainly a flirt but her reputation is not a bad one. "I start to think I like you and then you ruin it by opening your mouth and being an arse." She pulls her robes over her bare legs. "To use her feelings for you to manipulate her into what looks like a compromising position and convince her that if she were smart she'd know her place in the world."
Douglas considers this. "So invite her up to join me, and then you and your minions get to walk in on the act? Compromising, sure. But really, if word got out that she'd bagged me, her reputation can only go up. From unloved freak to freak who's managed to pull the best kisser in school. I'd be doing her a favour," he reasons carefully. "Maybe I'd pave the way for freak boys to get their freak love on, unafraid she'd turn them down with her crazy ways. It's a public service, even." He nods after a moment, then nods once more, more firmly. "You're on. You owe me one term's worth of potions homework. Not too outstanding, but enough to pass. Get one of your brainwashed minions to do it, I don't want your work. I've seen how good you are."
Her head turns back towards him quickly, "I don't want you to actually kiss her, Douglas. That would be cruel. You would need to use more mouthwash than there is available in the entire castle." Medusa runs her tongue across her bottom lip as she thinks. "Just make it look like you had been kissing her. That would be enough." When he names his price she raises a brow. "A month of potions homework? That is what you want?" Before he can change his mind she offers her hand. "Deal."
Douglas lifts his hand to avoid shaking. "One term's worth. Not a month. Right up until Christmas. Enough to pass, and no more," he clarifies, raising a brow at her in warning. "And that squares us up for this deal only. You still owe me."
Medusa leans over, placing a hand on the other side of Douglas so she is actually leaning over him her face not far from his. "I want to make this perfectly clear so I will speak slowly. The debt that I owe you will not be repaid with my body or contact between you and any part of it."
Douglas flashes an amused grin, eyes darting only briefly to her cleavage before he regains self discipline and fixes his gaze on hers. "That's never something I'd claim as a debt. You'd have to earn it," he insists, hand bunching her jumper and holding her in place there. "Although I hear I'm not your type. You've got much muddier tastes, eh?"
Given the closeness to the edge Medusa isn't about to try and wrestle her way free. "Whoever told you that was wrong. I have never once shown an interest in anyone who is muddied and I never will." She sounds very certain of it. "It was never about that and were you not likely to keep true to your word and take me with you I would shove you off this roof right now for that accusation." Well not really. She isn't a sociopath.
"So I am your type," Douglas reasons logically, waggling his brows at her before releasing her jumper. "It's the death threats, I think. They always keep a lad interested. Keep it up," he suggests, reaching a hand to ruffle her hair.
"Gerald Cornfoot thinks you should take me to the Halloween Feast as your date," says Medusa with not small amount of amusement. She swats at Douglas' hand and sits up slowly, a bit slower than she needs to in order to be safe given the perilous position they are in.
"And did he suggest that before or after he suggested you'd killed me?" Douglas queries, propping himself up on one elbow. "If I can get the spell to work so it looks like my head's come off, I will totally come along as your dead date. That would be hilarious."
Now that idea has Medusa actually debating the merit of it. "You do that I will be your date." She also doesn't think Douglas can do it, he is actually the worst student in their year after all. She carefully climbs down off the wall. "You didn't deny thinking about me," Medusa says with a smirk, then clarifies just in case he really isn't bright enough to figure out where her mind has leapt, "my note — in your note back you didn't deny it."
"On one condition," Douglas decides, sliding down from the top of the wall easily, almost as though he's up here daily. "You have to agree to be my date when I ask you. If I can't get the spell together after that? Well, then you're at liberty to stand me up. Fair exchange?"
She tilts her head to the right. "Run through that again for me. You will take me to the Halloween Feast if you can look like the Bloody Baron but you still don't want me to agree to that now but rather want to ask me later at some point in the next few weeks and know I will agree but only if you can make yourself look like you have been beheaded?" Medusa then shakes her head, "Even to me that sounds convoluted, Douglas."
Douglas shakes his head, waving her off. "Look, the important thing is that you just agree when I ask you. I mean, if I ask you when you burst in on Abbott? Priceless."
Sensing that somehow she is being had here but not feeling certain enough to see all the angles Medusa decides to agree. "Fine. I will say yes when you ask me." She starts to walk off then, calling back, "Good night Douglas. Sweet dreams when you pull those curtains."
"I'll dream of you!" Douglas calls after her, clasping his hands and doing his best doe eyes. "I'll dream of you drowning in a vat of something vile."