(1938-10-04) An Age Old Alliance
Details for An Age Old Alliance
Summary: Medusa tracks down Alphard to tell him of her conversation with a certain Slytherin prefect. The plan discuss what to do.
Date: 4 October 1938
Location: Slytherin Common Room
Related: Final Year, New Game, A Quiet Word

Breakfast time means students are sat at house tables. For the younger students it is about eating and chatting. For the other students it is about eating, chatting, and paying attention to who is sat with whom and if possible listening in to what is being said. There is always that allure of being noticed by an older student of the gender which appeals most to you. Medusa Malfoy knows this as well as she knows how to dress to accentuate the gifts genetics have given her. She also knows how to use her expressive eyes to make a student shift out of her way. Some poor sixth year Slytherin who had been speaking to Alphard shuffles dutifully over after receiving such a look from her and allowing Medusa plenty of room in which to slide in to sit beside Alphard. "Good morning," she offers him cheerily.

"Alright, alright, perhaps he's top five. -Perhaps-. But I still maint-," the sudden absence of his fellow Quiddich affectionado, with whom he had been debating the topic of Top Ten Chasers with, brought Alphard's potentially lengthy essay to a close. Though his eyes had been on his food while chatting, he didn't really need to see who it was who had sunk down next to him. He'd already had a decent overdose of her choice perfume, and the memory stuck. Playing it cool, he took a moment to finish up a bit of greenerie, before finally tilting his face in her direction. Just so! Like he might possibly have practiced in front of the mirror to make the best it. "Getting better by the moment."

Medusa sets her clean empty plate down on the table and reaches for a flaky pastry. She begins to lather it with butter an jam. "Indeed?" She sounds amused. "I spoke to Abbot. She is an idiot. I have given her twenty-four hours to apologise to me." The seventh year assumes she does not need to explain to Alphard the dire consequences which might befall anyone fool enough to anger a Malfoy. "Please pass the orange juice, Alphard." A napkin gets set across her lap as Medusa smiles at him from under her lashes, ever so coy. "Given her stupidity I can only forsee her having both the Blacks and the Malfoys as enemies."

A touch of displeasure entered Alphard's features, and so he was slower than he could have been to transfer the juice in Medusa's directions. For once those lustrous eyes of hers seemed to be failing to bewitch him. He looked at her with a glint of suspicion. "I already told you she was an idiot.. and a snitch. Even if she apologizes to you for.. whatever.. that still doesn't change anything." Because what was -really- important here was that she had wronged -him-, obviously. He speared a couple of chopped up bits of fruit with his fork, then chomped down on them. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

"I know and I believed you. I was just surprised how much more of an idiot she was." Medusa accepts the carafe of juice and pours some into a glass for herself. "I cornered her in the dormitory intent on teaching her a lesson." She pauses for a moment and then says with all seriousness, "I think she is brain addled. I am concerned for the safety of others. Prefects should not be so…intent on bringing insult to others. She confessed readily enough to shoving you and shouting at you. Some stupid nonsense about a robe. As if an elf didn't wash her clothes for her." Medusa sniffs derisively then takes a sip of her juice and turns her head towards Alphard. "So, we are going to do what Blacks and Malfoys always do. We are going to align ourselves to eliminate a problem."

"Robes?" Alphard asked, then dismissed it with a regal flick of his wrist. "I can't remember. I don't know. She and Macmillian might've thrown their clothes all over the floor and I accidentally stepped on them. But really, who throws their clothes down in -Owl- tower? How was I to know?" The worst thing was, he sounded genuinely baffled. Any malicious undertones at the time was now forgotten or at least repressed, in favor of a chain of events in which he was completely blameless. He shrugged. "Alright.." it was hard to keep his annoyance when she said everything he was thinking. His smile returned, a cruel version of it, while suspicion left. "I like the sound of that."

As if she ever doubted his loyalty. Medusa sets her glass down and cuts her pastry, slicing off a dainty piece which she eats with a fork. "We will need to be subtle were it anyone else but she is too thick for subtle. No, we need something harsh to penetrate all that stupidity." Lowering her voice she tilts her platinum head in towards Alphard's darker one and murmurs, "She had the audacity to claim that her mousy little family was just as good as your's and mine."

"Some.. public humiliation would be nice," Alphard drawled out in malevolent tones. He had taken to leaning against the table, all cool nonchalance, using his propped arm and the sideways twist of his torso to make it clear to anyone else around that this was a private conversation. IF he took some pleasure in knowing that half the boys at the table were probably jealous, well, that was just his due. "Caught in a compromising position. Or at least one that looks compromising." Because appearances were almost as good as facts.

Medusa smiles predatorally. "I agree." She cuts off another bite size piece and eats it. If Alphard wishes to create the illusion of intimacy she makes no attempt to stop him, even going so far as to turn her pale head towards him so their gazes meet. Undoubtedly romantic to those watching and there are always people watching. Keeping her voice low she says, "Abbott is already paranoid about appearances. That is how I approached her, to speak of rumours of her in compromising positions." A cool smirk curves up the corner of her mouth. "I like that we are thinking of the same things Alphard." Undoubtedly with her being that close he is possibly thinking of other things as well but Medusa does not mind, one could say she encourages it when it is useful.

"She should be. If you're going to hit someone, hit them where it hurts. Hit them so bad they don't ever want to be hit again. Make it their.. defining moment in life." His black eyes gleamed with eagerness as he spoke. It sounded like something someone had told him, once. Probably a member of his not always so stable family. They did have a tendency to go bad. He flashed her once more smile, playful, knowing. Then he turned back to his breakfast. Beneath the table his foot made a little bump-and-brush against hers. Then he snorted, not being able to help himself as he repeated her earlier phrase, incredulously: "The Abbots as good as the Blacks and Malfoys? Please."

Turning her attention back to her breakfast Medusa eats quietly for a few minutes. In comparison to others she seems to eat very little, although she does take a mug of hot chocolate to chase down her pastry and juice with. "Just because a family practices purity does not mean the are equal to others. Some parents clearly have failed to instill sensibility in their offspring." She smiles a little at the touch of Alphard's foot and lifts her gaze to his profile in amusement. "You keep rising in my esteem, Alphard Pollux Black."

Alphard in contrast ate like a growing teenage boy whose favorite extra curricular activity was the physically demanding job of a Beater. His stomach was absolutely bottomless. The only limits placed on how much he could chow down in a single sitting was how much time he had available. That was cut down by talking, of course. His snobbish upbringing did not look kindly on talking with one's mouth full. "So what're you doing after classes today?" Real casually asked.

"I have a bit of studying to do. I need to try and work on some transfiguration." Which is rumoured to be dangerous around her. "But other than that nothing specific." Medusa turns slightly so she can see Alphard properly, "Have you practice today? Or are you perhaps thinking we can do a bit more studying?" She really must take time in all of her manipulating of people to make up a study timetable.

"Not any official practices just yet. Though I can't wait to get the season started with a proper game." And not only having a licence to bully and hurt people, but being cheered on the more pain and blood he delivered. He let out a wistful sigh, one that summed up -just- how much he was looking forward to it. "But I was thinking more studying. Perhaps.. grab some snacks and you know.. find somewhere nice and secluded on the grounds?" Not at all with any secondary intentions there.

"I am certain you will prove yourself worthy of the place on the team, I have heard you are quite skilled." Medusa sips her drink and then nods, "Yes, studying would be good, but only so long as I do not interupt your practice schedule. That is important." She sets the mug carefully on the table and glances up at the ceiling. "It looks like rain today. We could use the dueling club room, it should be empty today and then you could also perhaps show me how skilled you are at using your wand?" Skillful intonation might, if one were a teenage boy, make it sound like Medusa has used a double entendre there.

"It would be a pity if we got interrupted," Alphard said as he twisted towards her again. Somehow he was still eating, though just the occasional chews in between talking. He was genteel about it; careful and precise rather than shoving it into his mouth. "It's tricky to get that proper mood going when there's distractions around." There were a couple of ticks in between him adding: "Study mood, that is. And.. well.. are you sure you're ready for my wand? Most just can't handle it."

"I would rather be dry and have the off chance of interruption than wet and cold outside and too miserable to focus on anything," says Medusa equally. "Let me know what you decide Alphard." She rises to her feet, fingers trailing lightly across one of his shoulders. "I am trusting you, putting myself in your…" her gaze flits down to his hands, "…capable hands." A smile ghosts across her mouth as she briefly leans into him while stepping over the bench.

"I'll think about it," he said with more external calm than he really deserved. Cool arrogance made for a perfect mask to hide behind when the heart beat too fast. He'd think about it. Probably it would be the only thing he would be able to think about for the next few hours. As she leaned into him he couldn't help but turn into the movement. Making the contact more solid, the rippling after effects more pronounced in his gut. He watched her the whole time, following her path out of the corner of his eye, turning his head when she threatened to slide out of view completely.

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