| Details for The Skiver and the Queen Dish Out Advice |
| Summary: | Douglas and Medusa dish out relationship and social advice to younger students at lunch time. |
| Date: | 14 October 1938 |
| Location: | Great Hall, Hogwarts |
| Related: | — |
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Remembering something else she meant to ask, Medusa takes a mouthful of juice and queries, "What do you think of Flint's Magijugend? I can't make up my mind. On the one hand I think no, because I am Medusa Malfoy and I don't follow trends I set them." Yes, she really just said that. Another mouthful and she counters her own argument with, "But, I do believe in purity, I mean muggles are all well and good for certain things but I'd never marry one or want my children to either." Which leads to her looking clearly for some guidance from Douglas, "So what do you think?"
Douglas shakes his head. "I'm not big on clubs in general," he admits. "Particularly ones which tell me what to do. On the other hand, it looks like it might be a good career move to join up. Although I'll just get more mudbloods decide they want to duel me for pointing out that muggles aren't like us."
She chews on her bottom lip and nods slowly, thinking about the implications of joining, as he pointed out. "Endgame…does it much matter?" Medusa picks up a biscuit and breaks it in half, offering one half to Douglas. "That's our focus, right?"
Douglas accepts the biscuit with a thoughtful nod. "Endgame… I think it's beneficial," he eventually decides. "For you, certainly. For me, maybe. My win conditions are different to yours, and I already have a career planned out. But allies are always a good thing."
Medusa chews thoughtfully on a bit of her half of the biscuit, then declares, "I don't want to do it without you. We made a deal." She tilts her head as she looks up at Douglas, watching him from the corner of her eyes, "And yes, allies are always a good thing. But we may need them from all walks of life not just our own."
"Hence you joining the mud club last year?" Douglas queries, raising a brow in response. "So maybe just keep the friends and don't actually join."
When he brings up the mud club Medusa looks stricken and tries to cover it up by reaching for her juice and emptying her glass. She turns the glass around in her hands, "I didn't make any friends over that."
Douglas shrugs. "It's invite only, though, isn't it, anyway?" he points out. "And I've not been invited. Are you saying you have?"
"You apply and if Flint likes you then you get in. Why wouldn't he like either of us? We're part of two of the oldest families there are." Medusa sets the empty glass on the table. "But as you say, allies - contacts are good to have. Those people are people we already know and are related to by marriage in some cases." She smirks, "I guess that puts the Lestrange's at a disadvantage, all that inner breeding."
Douglas taps his lip thoughtfully. "And if you join, what's expected of you? I mean, some mudbloods are useful. No, you wouldn't want to marry them, but you know. And there's even some really hot muggles. I've seen billboards."
Medusa snorts a laugh and lightly elbows Douglas. "I don't know," she says with all seriousness as she sits beside Douglas; the pair of them are sat amongst seventh year Ravenclaws at the Ravenclaw table. Around the Great Hall people are discussing the great Whale Song which finished moments before when an unfortunate Hufflepuff couldn't stop singing and had to be escorted from the hall by Professor Beery. "They do something to your wand, I saw that. It's…like a thing they put on it. I didn't ask, but I got the impression you have to have it. Just what it does I don't know."
"I want to know more before I say yes or no," Douglas decides, stealing a piece of biscuit from her plate. "I agree in principle, but I want to know what I'm giving up."
She picks up a bit of biscuit for herself and chews thoughtfully, considering where the best source of information might be. Medusa looks around and muses, "Alphard has left. Did you hear, he is going to the dance with my cousin Beatrice now." She points to the pretty redhead seventh year at the Slytherin table. "Bea is utterly mad over him. Keeps playing with his hair and trying to drag him off into the maze."
Arian has arrived to lunch a little late, a rare occurrence for him considering how much he loves food. Unfortunately, that means that there's not very good in regards to seating left available. He walks up and down his table twice before finally spotting an open seat next to Douglas and… Arian swears underneath his breath. He was hoping to never see that girl again for as long as he was at Hogwarts. But, that's the only place available right now, and his stomach is growling. "Mind if I sit?" he asks Douglas as he points to the empty seat next to the older boy.
Douglas glances back, giving Arian an amiable nod. "Huh? Oh, sure, sure. Not my table. I've just invaded it." Nodding once more to Medusa, he queries, "Well, that'll suit him. Having a woman who loves him almost as much as he loves himself. Is she going to be heartbroken when she realises he's a tit?" he queries, peering over towards Beatrice in consideration. "Heartbroken women are my specialty, you know."
Medusa doesn't seem to notice Arian or if she does she is ignoring him at this point in favour of Douglas' witty charm. "I doubt she will notice. She begged me to finangle it so he'd be sat near her at lunch and then suggest he nudge in her direction." Her gaze follows his and returns to the Slytherin table. "Truth be told, Beatrice is sweet but a bit dippy. I can put in a good word if you prefer her to me? Maybe even give her a nice vial so she can serenade you on your first date."
"I do like redheads," Douglas muses thoughtfully, flashing Medusa a grin and lowering his voice.
Arian takes a seat next to the Gryffindor boy. "Yeah, thanks," he says. He looks around the table. What is it with people not sitting with their houses these days? No wonder he could hardly find a seat… "You like redheads?" He says, almost to himself. "I like girls no matter what their hair color. Getting them to like me is the real problem."
Medusa nods slowly, "I remember. You had a thing with what's her name, last year? The tall flat chested one from….oh," she laughs as she realises the girl in question is sat two people away from them. Her head turns towards Arian and Medusa chuckles and refills her juice glass, sips some of it and then offers the glass to Douglas.
"If I'd known you were making notes on who I dated, I would have taken up more offers," Douglas insists, accepting the juice with a nod. He turns back to Arian, looking him over. "Well, look, what are your tactics? What do you do? Just follow them around moony eyed and hope?"
Arian frowns at Douglas, although he's pleasantly surprised that Medusa hasn't come across the table in an attempt to kill him yet. "I do different things," he says, trying to be as vague as possible. "Sometimes I make jokes. Or I show them some of the muggle magic that I've learned. Although," he adds in a muted tone, "I'm missing one of my juggling balls lately…"
Medusa sips her juice and looks over at Arian with an innocent look on her face. "Misplaced things have a way of turning up when you least expect them. Maybe you will get lucky, you never know." She pulls a face, "And girls don't like juggling, not for dating. Being funny would be better."
"Women like confidence," Douglas shares his wisdom, leaning back in his seat. "Aim for women you think are out of your league, give them a smile and a bit of cheek. Make sure they know you're interested, and they're intrigued by you. Right?"
Arian shoots Medusa a look when she talks about missing things. "Yeah, well, sometimes missing things have a little help from 'girls'" (the word is given a very obvious inflection) "who are trying to make the lives of others miserable." As for Douglas' advice, Arian says, "I've tried going for girls that are out of my league, but Ria wasn't exactly super impressed with my display. And I doubt I'll ever even get close enough to talk to her ever again."
Mention of Ria has Medusa laughing, "Ria Sykes?" She really does hope he means the seventh year Slytherin prefect. "As in the Sykes family who are staunch supporters of Grindelwald?" Medusa nods a little, "I have to give you credit kid, when you aim for out of your league you really mean it. Like a horny seventh year and a courtesan."
Douglas shoots Medusa a look at that. "She was /absolutely/ into me, I will have you know. And she didn't know I was just a student." He rolls his eyes, then grins at Arian. "So you do your research first, right? I mean, magic tricks were never going to work with that one. Ria Sykes? I'd just lie in wait for her one day and ambush her into a snog. Then walk away, telling her to look me up. She wouldn't be able to resist the insult."
Arian pauses for a second, a little taken aback by Medusa's sudden interest. "Yeah," he finally admits quietly. "Ria,the seventh year prefect." He gives her a shrug. "I don't see why it's such a big deal." He gives Douglas a raised eyebrow. "I don't think that would have worked with her. She probably would have killed me if I had tried that…"
"Not to be rude, but you're a midget." Medusa is so not rude. "Ria Sykes broke up with Lucian Proudmore, a pure-blood, because her family didn't think he was pure enough for her. And sorry kid, but Lucian is hot. You…," Medusa looks at Arian. "You're scrawny and really pale and short. What are you, third year?"
Douglas waves Medusa down. "Oh come on, give the kid a chance. Everyone needs to practice, and you've got to practice on the best. I wasn't always this damn smooth myself, you know."
"I'm not a midget!" Arian raises his voice in protest. "I had managed to at least get her attention a few times. I just never could get to asking her out the way I wanted." He nods at Douglas' statement. Well, at least someone is somewhat on his side. "And I'm a fourth year, if you must know. I'm not saying I expected, you know, GREAT results, but I thought I could at least get her to go out with me once…"
Adding more fuel to the rumour of Douglas' snake charming skills Medusa changes her approach. "Fair enough," she agrees with the Gryffindor. She leans forward a little so she can see Arian better. "Try a younger target. Do what Douglas did. Get some experience first. There are lots of pretty girls in year four. Or…" she peers down the Ravenclaw table and then back at Arian, "shoot a little higher. Go for that Elspeth girl. The prefect in year five." Medusa nods her pale head, "Just a little above your weight but achievable."
"Or go for a Hufflepuff," Douglas suggests, nodding agreement. "They're usually far too kind hearted to say no."
Arian isn't quite sure what to make of Medusa offering advice. Is she being serious or just trying to toy with him. "Well, I dunno," he says a little timdly. "I don't know if Elspeth would go for me. I had my eye on Idrissa, but she's been ignoring me lately. D… do you think I'd really have a chance with Elspeth?"
Medusa shrugs, "I don't know. I have hardly spoken to her, but it can't hurt to try." She drapes an arm around Douglas' shoulders. "I ignored him for six years, look where we are now. Sometimes ignoring doesn't mean they don't like you, it just means they're busy."
"Let's get this straight," Douglas corrects, eyeing Medusa. "You hated me for six years." He grins at Arian. "If they hate you, that's a good start. Mutual hatred is just like love, with more hair pulling and less snogging."
Arian picks a little at the food he's managed to throw onto his plate. What is wrong with these people? "I.. I don't know about that," he mutters. "Maybe I should just take that one girl's advice and just grow a mustache. Maybe that would make me more appealing…"
As he corrects her Medusa laughs and nods, "Fine Douglas, for six years I hated you." She bats her lashes at him, "But now I love you." Turing her head towards Arian she chuckles, "You don't need a mustache, kid. You just need some confidence. Know that you are funny. Know that girls will have a good time with you."
Douglas explains to Arian solemnly, jerking a thumb towards Medusa. "And most of all? Never trust a Slytherin. They will always have an ulterior motive. Hers? She wants my body."
Arian is still completely unsure of what Medusa has going on. He picks at his food a little more, struggling for words. Finally, once he's cleaned his plate, he stands. "Um, yeah, okay," he says uncertainly. He grabs his bag and stands. "I.. um, I guess I should prbably go study. Or something." With a befuddled expression, the Ravenclaw stands and walks out of the Great Hall.
Medusa shrugs and reaches for a biscuit. "See, even when I am nice they don't believe it." She bites the head off the gingerbread man, crunching on its little beedy candy eyes.
Arian has disconnected.
Ahnaliese, possibly a first-year Hufflepuff by the looks of her, is cruising down the aisle between the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables, looking at backs, faces, and packs—in so doing she likely passes Arian. Her uniform is of poor cloth, but the yellows are a bit distracting naturally, and her low-heeled oxford booties make a click-click-cliking on the flooring.
"I never believe it either, and I'm going out with you," Douglas points out, the clicking of booted heels gaining his attention. "Hello, looks like you've got a firstie clone, Malfoy. She sounds just like you. I can see the terrified kids scattering from her footsteps now."
Medusa lightly kicks Douglas under the table, or well attempts to. She might miss and hit someone else because she is distracted by looking at Ahnaliese. "Aww, she's cute. If only she were blond I could sculpt her in my image and leave behind a legacy." The gorgon gives the tiny girl a little wave. See, she can be nice!
Ahnaliese's roving eyes pause on Medusa before she passes by and she slows a little with the eye-contact, enough to instinctively return the wave. The look on her face might suggest brief uncertainty before her eyes chase around to the others sitting nearby. On Douglas they pause briefly as well. She looks about to say something, but instead just offers a quirky smile and slips on, as if intending to pass them all by. Ahnaliese stops though and decides to say, "H-have you—has anyone seen Goshawk? He's a Ravenclaw. The sickly boy."
"Goshawk, Goshawk," Douglas repeats, snapping his fingers. "Wait, is he the one with the… you know… that boy. That one. The one with the head! And arms. Two of them! Yeah, that boy?"
"I think he got souped, well if he's a Ravenclaw anyway." Medusa doesn't really keep up with first years. She points a finger to the great soup mess down at the other end. "If not, no idea. Sorry. Small people sort of blend together for me. But you're a cutie. What's your name?"
Ahnaliese's eyes narrow slightly at Douglas, having been baited along by his words until the end. Before she manages to say anything in response to him, she is distracted with Medusa's comment and glances to where she points.
"Oh, well, maybe I'll…wait then." To Medusa she says, "Brown. Ahnaliese." But her eyes shift to Douglas as she says, "Pardon me if I'm being obvious, but I'm pretty sure every boy at Hogwarts has all those. So you're picking on me," and here she reuses some of Medusa's language, "because I'm small, aren't you?"
Douglas grins. "No, no, I'm just taking the piss because it's funny. I don't know the names of most of the young kids, sorry. Here, have an apple," he offers, stealing it from Medusa's plate and holding it out. "Ever thought about dyeing your hair?"
Not minding the least that Douglas seems to be stealing her food and giving it away she returns the favour and takes a bit of orange off of his plate, pops it into her mouth. All is fair in love and — er — food. "She's quick. I like it," Medusa says to him. To Ahnalise she says, "You're sharp, that is good. You need to have sharp wits about you in this place. Brown you say? Would I know any of your people?"
"Maybe if my Pa' ever figured out the key to stop wasting all our money," Ahnaliese says to Douglas with a little scowl. She shakes her head to Medusa then as well. "Probably not. Browns are all Hufflepuffs, mostly. I was hoping I might be Slytherin, actually, or Ravenclaw, but nope." She glances again at Medusa's robes and uniform, eying key points that have the most possibility of displaying finery. If Ahnaliese leaves Douglas hanging on the offered apple for a moment, she accepts it a moment later. "Thanks."
"There's some spell or other, I'm sure," Douglas insists vaguely, shrugging a shoulder. Hair dyeing? Not entirely his thing. "Just don't get Malfoy to do it, or you'll probably lose your legs."
"Yeah, Hufflepuff." Medusa wrinkles her nose a bit. "But, hey, I hear you guys get the best cakes and Professor Beery is great. Love that guy. Makes NEWTs herbology a laugh every time." She snags another segment of orange from Douglas' plate. "Hey!," she says looking at him. "I think she's lovely. Always fancied darker hair, well that's a lie, not always. Sometimes." She looks back at the first year. "Work the Hufflepuff angle, get people to think you're all sweet and innocent and then nail them."
For a brief moment Ahnaliese's quirky, lopsided smirk flashes across her face as her eyes dart from Douglas to Medusa; it might be hard do discern the source, however, but perhaps both play a part in it.She nods amiably to Medusa's words then, minutely, as if nodding further might too loudly announce her understanding. To Douglas she says, "Some sixth or seventh-year Slytherin—Yaxley, I think," she tells them, "dyed her hair reddish by accident, with a potions explosion or something. That's what I think about when anyone mentions dying hair." Her lopsided smirk is almost there again, but not quite. "Not a great potions mixer, that one."
"I know the Yaxleys," Douglas notes with a half grin. "All too well. My mother's side," he explains to Medusa. "And am I going to get any of my own orange today?" He turns back to Ahnaliese, running a hand through his hair. "Potions is a dull class anyway. The best people in the world are awful at it."
Medusa looks pointedly at Douglas as she bites the orange segment in half then puts the other half back on his plate. "Look, I left you some." She turns her head towards Ahnalise, "Lillian. I remember that. She looked hilarious." When that little flash of a smirk dances in and out on the younger girl's face Medusa brings her hands up and together to clap them even as she laughs. "I love it. You've got it, that little hint of bitchiness."
Ahnaliese laughs, her cheeks flushing just slightly. Whatever she'd been about to say to Douglas, Medusa's comment seems to ward it off and replace it with embarrassment. When she's about to say something it causes her to laugh again. "I'm not bi—am I? I was just going to ask if…" But she cannot say it, and smiles too broadly to say anything more. Instead, she turns around.
Douglas leans in to Medusa, murmuring in her ear, "You've got a fan, I think. Should I be jealous?"
Medusa nudges Douglas, "Make her stay, I like her. She is a million times cuter than Meliflua's ferret." Raising her voice she says to Ahnaliese, "You can come sit with me whenever you like, Ahnaliese Brown. We'll make you an honorary Slytherin."
Ahnaliese glances back over her shoulder before turning back about. "To find amusement from me?" she asks amidst a laugh, smiling enough that she has happy eyes. Even if that's the case, it doesn't seem to bother her too much, as she asks Douglas a touch more seriously, "And are you suggesting I should bomb Potions, or," and here she tries to stifle a smile as her eyes dart to Medusa before back to Douglas, "or are you horrible at potions and just trying to include yourself in that category of the best people?"
"Well, both, of course," Douglas admits cheerfully, giving Thaddeus an elbow. "Shunt up and make room for the little one, Thad. Sit yourself down, kid. You've been claimed by the gorgon." A few people around them look, wide eyed, as Douglas uses Medusa's less than flattering nickname in front of her, and one or two younger Slytherins look over with similar surprise just to see the tiny first year apparently allowed into the Malfoy inner circle.
"Amusement is only half the fun, kid," Medusa says to Ahnaliese. "You have pizzazz and most in this place do not. They just shuffle along doing what they are told, thinking what they are told." To borrow from Douglas' terminology she declares, "The best people are above that. We are going to show you how to nurture that part of yourself so that when we leave you will be able to go forth and nurture it more in yourself." Thaddeus, the seventh year Ravenclaw, dutifully shuffles himself along, moving a bit further down so that a small first year can fill the space he vacated while Medusa turns her most winning smile on Ahnaliese and pats that empty space.
"Well okay," Ahnaliese admits, apparently deciding that this could be a good thing, "that sounds good." As she climbs over the bench, adjusting her skirt, she sits and asks, "The Gorgon?" Aiming a thumb at Medusa, she asks her, and with a intermittent glance at Douglas, "Is that what people nicknamed this side of you," smiling a little as she repeats, "the best side of you?"
"She's got a wicked glare on her," Douglas explains. "She'll turn you to stone with it." He plucks up the remains of his orange, eyeing it balefully before popping it into his mouth. "And she doesn't have a best side. All her sides are equally awful." He grins, ducking as he expects a punch.
Medusa reaches for a biscuit and shoves it into Douglas' grinning mouth. She glares at him, but he knows her well enough by now to know when she means it and when she does not. "I do too have a best side, that is why you adore me and have worshiped me from afar for six years." Turning her attention to Ahnaliese the girl is also given a biscuit, but it is set on the plate in front of the first year and because she is too nice Medusa also pours the girl some juice. "We could work on giving you a glare or do you have something else in mind?"
Ahnaliese smirks at the interchange between the older two, saying, "Thanks," when the juice is poured, which she drinks from while setting her apple down above the plate, after which she toys with the biscuit briefly. "Well, someone said I glare alot, so maybe that," she offers, "but can that be cute and innocent still, or that thing you said my angle should be?"
Looking across at Douglas, suddenly her eyes narrow very slightly, "What's your quality?" Smiling a little she asks, "Are you a sarcastic tease?"
Douglas grins, biting down on the biscuit and wiping crumbs from his mouth with his sleeve. "Something like that," he agrees amiably. "My quality is… well, I'd say my quality is just going out there and doing things. Real things. Not just sitting cooped up in a classroom because somebody insists you have to."
"Douglas is sneakily clever," explains Medusa as she looks upon him fondly. "He lets people underestimate him so that way he can do what he wants instead of what they want. It is a good strategy, often more suited to the male of our species however." She picks up her juice and takes a sip then looks at Ahnaliese, "Glaring is good, definitely," the Slytherin nods her head, agreeing with herself as she considers the advice she is giving out, "That's my thing, well part of it. But the cute thing…that could be more your style. Bring the glare out second, it's your big secret weapon." A wicked grin turns up the corners of her mouth, "Lure them in with the cuteness first."
Ahnaliese fixes Douglas with some analysis, searching over his facial features and eyes; but she keeps it brief, and whatever she is musing to herself, when the last of Medusa's words draw a smile out once again. "It sounds dangerous!" she admits, her voice momentarily higher in pitch, the kind definitely betraying her as a first-year. Her smile should be enough indiciation what she thinks of this.
"Sneakily clever," she says aloud, eying Douglas again. "You're dangerous," she says in a light-hearted fashion. "Keep your enemies closest, or those most dangerous to you?" she asks suggestively, her questioning tone holding steady as she glances up and aside at Medusa.
Douglas holds up his hands. "I'm not dangerous. I never transfigured the legs off my cat."
This time Douglas gets a real glare from The Gorgon. "Fizzy is just fine, thank you very much." Medusa nods her head in agreement with Ahnaliese, "That is a good strategy too." She gives the girl another biscuit. "You are going to come eat lunch with me at least twice a week. The hat may have put you in Hufflepuff but we will train you in the ways of Slytherin."
"Did it's legs ever…come back?" Ahnaliese asks, looking between the both of them after swallowing hard on her first bite of biscuit. "And there's something else I want to know," she asks, almost too quickly, as if she doesn't want to force an answer to the first question, "Are you guys…a thing?" "Like, are you boy crazy?" Ahnaliese asks Medusa. "Because I don't understand that, and sixth and seventh years tell me I eventually will, but then never explain it. And I know there's something behind it, but I don't understand it yet, and I want to know what's behind it."
Douglas holds up his hands as he gets the Glare, admitting defeat. "It's currently living life as a draught excluder," he replies to the first question, absolutely deadpan. "It shuffles leglessly from one door to another." To the second query, he just looks amused, waiting to see exactly what Medusa's response will be.
Douglas is lucky Ahnaliese is sat between them now as it means Medusa cannot kick him so she has to sufice with another glare instead. "Fizzy's legs were fixed by Professor Dumbledore and then I decided at Christmas that year to leave Fizzy at home." She eyes Ahnaliese, "It's call puberty. You get hormones and those make your body change, like getting your period. Ask around about the small stuff first, kid, then people won't balk when you spring the big stuff on them." Medusa sips her juice, "But yes, we are a thing. When I was your age I wasn't that bothered with boys either. Third year is when I started to pay attention."
All of this seems to weight heavily on Ahnaliese, and her eyes go to her biscuit and the other half. "Oh, that. All that's horrible," she says at last. "I don't want to like boys like that. Snogging looks gross too." It's all kind of mumbled, and the distraction comes with a glance up at Douglas. "Was it like a furry slug?" she murmurs, the partial part of a quirky smile quivering in a single dimple on her cheek. She turns back to her plate and takes another drink.
Douglas nods conspiratorially at that, settling back in his seat. "Look, imagine the best ever day of your life. That feeling." He reaches for another orange to begin peeling. "When you start fancying girls, or… well, probably boys in your case… well, take that feeling and double it. Every time you see them, you have to catch your breath. Kissing them makes you want to go and sing and dance and do everything in the world just to get another kiss. Even if swapping spit is kind of gross in principle," he agrees, wrinkling his nose.
"It is also about finding someone who gets you and what you are about. It's not just snogging and looks across the classroom," adds Medusa. "If it were everybody in a relationship would be happy. Focus on just figuring out who you are and what you want first, the rest," she shrugs, "well it will just fall in place." When Ahnaliese brings up her cat again Medusa throws up her arms, "What is it with you two and Fizzy?" Even so she laughs, "He did…he did look a bit like a furry slug."
Ahnaliese smirks sheepishly for a bit, trying to be sensitive and not laugh, but the smirk continues to ruin it. She toys with her biscuit until she says, "I know what it is I would want: it's what boys aren't though. I don't want something that's dirty, pushy, obtuse, unobservant, and—" she sounds like she wants to go on, to press the odds against boys, but the falter has betrayed that to be her list. "So the opposite of those things I guess," Ahnaliese says. "That's really rigid though. I don't think I even meet that all the time."
"Sounds like what you want is a queer friend," Douglas points out, not unkindly. "Unobservant pretty much sums up men. I mean, we know you spend eight hours getting your hair just right and your makeup on and all that, but we don't notice. We just think 'hey, she looks pretty'."
Thaddeus reaches over and thumps Douglas then goes back to ignoring them while Medusa just struggles not to laugh. She has to look up at the ceiling and cough to clear away the fit of giggles that Douglas' statement inspires. "It is true, they aren't that observant. Dirty…well I don't think I'd accept dirty either. Douglas bathes twice a day, all Macmillans do. Maybe when you're older you can find a nice Macmillan boy." Smiling sweetly over at him Medusa queries, "Isn't your brother in year three?"
"I'm pretty certain I don't want a queer friend either, whatever that is," Ahnaliese says to Douglas, and then to Medusa, "Maybe. I'm hoping to be lucky enough to be skipped by everyone though."
Beginning to stand up and step out of the bench-seat, Ahnaliese says to Douglas, "You do notice the clicky-clicky shoes, and the sassy attitudes." Once free Ahnaliese kneels on the bench to access her juice, which she finishes off before grabbing her apple and buscuit-and-a-half. "I have to go," she says. To Medusa she says, "At least you found one that's smart and quick," and she glares a little bit, "and funny too, mostly." She smiles afterward though, which alleviates the tension of her face.
"Mostly? Always!" Douglas protests, rolling his eyes. "Wait… did I just get sassed by a first year Hufflepuff? My reputation! Noooo!" He raises a fist to the sky dramatically, before sliding back in closer to Medusa. "And he's not my brother, he's a cousin. I've only got sisters."
Medusa cackles and holds up a finger to get Ahnaliese to wait. "Here, I want you to have this." She reaches up under her collar and pulls out an expensive looking chain with a small hand mirror pendant dangling from it. Leaning in she slips it over Ahnaliese's head. "There, now you have a way to survive the Gorgon's glare. "Come see me at Lunch on Thursday, little Sassy Brown."
Ahnaliese pauses uncertainly at Medusa's gesture, and then smiles a little as she looks down at the pendant. Her smile flourishes as broad as possible at the statement given with it. "Thanks," she says, winking at Medusa. "Is it okay if I say that was precious? I'd give you a hug," she says, dropping her voice suddenly, "but I don't know if you like them, and if you want others to hear that, or biscuit crumbs on your nice outfit," the last in her usual volume again. To Douglas, as she turns to go, she protests, "Macmillan, you tease me like a first-year Hufflepuff isn't worth much." Her darting off is followed by the clickity-click-click of her shoes and her calling, "And I am! Mostly."
"I like her," Douglas tells Medusa with a nod. "She's got potential."
"I agree," replies Medusa as she gives the girl a sneaky one-armed hug then lets Ahnaliese get on her way. "I especially like how she sassed you. Best part of lunch. Even better than Whale Song."
Douglas nudges Medusa hard in the ribs. "I'm pretty sure you're supposed to be on my side." He nods to her plate. "You done there? I'm on a free after lunch. I was going to show you where I fish."
Behaving as if he had actually hurt her Medusa, "Ows," and rubs her ribs. She nods and gets to her feet. "I need to get off my backside, it has gone numb. This feels like it was the longest lunch ever somehow. Though that firecracker was brilliant."
"You just like anyone who makes me look an idiot," Douglas tells her with an easy smile, arm going around her waist as he rises. "See. I totally get you, and who you are. Catch you later, Thad," he adds to the Ravenclaw, with a wink.
Giving their friend a wave Medusa leans into Douglas as she is guided out by him, her hand going to rub her sore bottom. "A thousand years of Hogwarts and they can't put cushioning charms on the bloody benches."
Douglas slides a hand down even as they walk out. "Here, let me help with that."
Because she is nice Medusa lets him, but only when they are out of sight of the teaching staff.