| Details for A Snake Amongst Lions |
| Summary: | Medusa boldly goes where few Slytherin will go and has breakfast with the Gryffindor. |
| Date: | 25 October 1938 |
| Location: | Great Hall, Hogwarts |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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Because it gives her a perverse sense of glee Medusa doesn't walk to the Slytherin table for breakfast on Friday morning, instead she looks for a familiar face amongst the Gryffindors and heads in that direction. To be fair, most of her meals are now spent with either Morgana and their growing unkindness of Ravenclaws or amongst the knot of Slytherin seventh years with Lucian beside her. She has only once ventured over amongst the pride of Gryffindors this year and that was a brief bit of lunch with Gerald. To make it a blatant choice, to not even look in the direction of her own house table draws a few eyes.
The Gryffindor table, usually a fairly raucous affair, actually quiets as Medusa approaches. Those younger students up at Douglas's end of the table begin to find something very interesting much further down, and conversations up and around the seventh year tail off as the students there do their best not to be noticed. "Oh for… she's not going to kill you for talking at your own table," Douglas chides, rolling his eyes and reaching up as Medusa passes, to grasp the front of her jumper and pull her down to him. "Morning. You're lost," he points out, dotting a kiss to her cheek and shuffling up to give her space.
Her feet scramble for purchase on the stone floor as he pulls her down, clearly having not expected that. Thankfully there is a gargantuan table for her to grab ahold of so she can at least lower her bottom onto the bench with some dignity. "I'm right where I want to be," Medusa states as she looks at the veritable wall of silent students around them. "Talk," she commands them. If they are not talking everyone will overhear what she wants to say. Reaching for the pot of hot chocolate she peers into the cup in front of her and finding it still clean pours herself some. "Good Morning." Douglas earns himself a faint kiss to the cheek chased by a thumb brushing away the light trace of lipstick.
Douglas just looks amused by the general looks of terror Medusa seems to cause, shrugging a shoulder and reaching for the jam. "Next to me. Of course. Who wouldn't want to be right here." He looks her over for a moment, then nods. "You look as awful as ever. One day you'll scrub up for me."
"Precisely," agrees Medusa as she begins to add food to the clean plate in front of her. She doesn't mind people thinking her infatuated with Douglas even if it does earn her a few odd looks or comments from friends. "Pass the butter please, Douglas." A hand goes up to pat her hair. "At least I haven't got any leaves in my hair this morning." Her mouth twitches. "Next Wednesday I will be all dressed up for you and you will find me irresistible. I honestly don't know how you will be able to cope."
"Did you ever find your hat again?" Douglas queries, sliding the butter dish across. "And if I'm going to find you irresistible, I'll probably wonder who you are and what you did with Malfoy. I'll spend my evening trying to unravel the mystery of the missing girlfriend. Or I would, if I wasn't horribly distracted by a far prettier blonde." He pauses, adding conspiratorially, "I do like blondes."
As she butters her hot croissant Medusa shakes her pale head, "No. I fear my hat is a lost cause." She smirks and turns her head to look up at Douglas. "Well if you do that headless charm you might find yourself wondering about both, unless you have managed to find a way to undo it quick enough that you can eat and drink and do other things," her gaze drops pointedly to his lips, "with your mouth."
Douglas quirks an easy grin, cutting his toast in two. "Everyone's seen it now. I need something new for the feast. Something which leaves my mouth free."
Medusa hmms as she eats her croissant, trying to think of something else he could do. This occupies her mind for a few minutes, long enough to polish off the warm flaky French breakfasty goodness and chase it down with a mouthful of hot chocolate. "I spoke to Sluggy yesterday. He said he's going to tell the rest of the staff about Batshit and recommended I ensure I am never alone." She reaches over and spears a sausage with her fork, then bites off an end. "So you're officially roped in to ensure I'm not alone."
"That's my sausage," Douglas points out reasonably, then raises a brow. "Do you think she's actually serious, then? I mean, not that I object in particular to making sure you're not alone. Should I follow you to your dorm at night? Tuck you in with your teddy and tell you bedtime stories so the scary, crazy lady doesn't give you nightmares?"
She turns her wrist and offers him the fork with the speared sausage on it. "It's tasty." Medusa shrugs a shoulder, "I don't know if she is serious or not but I'd rather not risk ending up in the delightful care of Madam Spleen or worse, some stain on the cliffs beneath the palisades." His taunt earns him an elbow digging into his side. "Remember that's Lucian's job."
"He will defend you with his hair," Douglas states solemnly, taking a bite from the sausage. "So is that why I haven't seen you on the roof for ages? You want a safety harness or something?"
"He's like Samson." Medusa eyes the sausage, "Your bite is a lot bigger than mine." She takes a bigger bite this time and then sets her fork on Douglas' plate. "You could always hold onto the back of my skirt if I get too close to the edge."
"So we'd both go tumbling down together," Douglas responds amiably. "And it's my sausage! If I want to eat the whole thing in one, I can! You could hook an emergency broom under your skirt. If she pushes, you can fly off."
"Find me another sausage then if you don't want me having your's," says Medusa, brow quirking. She reaches for her hot chocolate and sips some of it. "A broom might not be a bad idea, only knowing me I'd do the charm wrong and the wrong thing when I needed to put it away again."
Douglas just waggles his brows at her, grinning, before reaching across the table to another platter to claim another sausage.
Medusa bats her lashes and smiles sweetly at him, "For me?"
"Come and get it," Douglas challenges, biting off the end before holding the remainder up over his head at full stretch, leaning back away from her.
Medusa narrows her eyes as the challenge is issued. Placing one hand on the edge of the table she pushes up, stepping onto the bench with one foot as she reaches trying to grab the sausage. It is a precarious position, if he wanted to he could push her so she falls over.
Douglas doesn't push her. That would be cruel and unnecessary. No, instead he grips her by the waistband and pulls her instead.
Pulling is better, pushing would have meant she'd likely end up falling backwards into the food on the table. Pulling just means Medusa falls into Douglas instead. Even as she falls forward and her eyes widen in surprise her hand is still reaching for the prize.
Douglas leans the sausage back out of reach until she's settled in a heap against him, flashing a grin as he finally relents and holds it up to her mouth. "See? You can't keep your hands off me. Even if you do only want me for my sausage." There are a few snickers around the table, and Douglas gives them his best, owlishly innocent look. "What? I don't know what you're laughing at!"
Medusa looks triumphant when she takes a bite, a big bite, and not the least bit bothered by the snickering. She won, didn't she? Sliding off of Douglas she drops back down onto the bench. "Your reputation as a snake charmer is well cemented by now, I'm sure." Spying the remnants of the other sausage still on her fork, on his plate, she leans over to grab it, turning her head so she can whisper to him, "I do want you, but not just for that."
Douglas slips an arm around her waist, raising a brow. "Well, I'm pretty sure you don't want me for my Potions homework," he points out quietly, taking up his toast for a bite. "So if it's not my body, and it's not my academic brilliance, you must want me for your own nefarious purposes. QED."
"Of course. Remember who you are speaking to." Everything about Medusa Malfoy screams nefarious purposes, or so small people are led to believe. Having had enough to eat she tops up her hot chocolate and offers to pour him some as well. "What if we did a sort of bubble head charm, only made it look like you had a giant jack-o-lantern for a head?"
"I'd have even more trouble eating and drinking and… well, eating and drinking," Douglas points out, glancing around the table as people slowly start to lose interest now the pair are clearly whispering sweet nothings to each other. "Did you talk to your brother about a loan yet?"
Medusa shakes her head, "No," she says keeping her voice low, "but I'm posting a letter to him today to ask if he'll come up for the next Hogsmeade weekend. I think it's better to ask in person. My siblings are aware of my…current predicament. I need to make sure he knows this isn't about that, but for the future."
Douglas nods a little, munching on his toast. "I don't suppose you're having any luck with that?" he queries, sliding his hand around to her pocket to feel up her coinpurse. Or, as it probably looks to anyone casually looking, to feel her arse up. "Results are getting better, right? And the tutoring and stuff. Morgana said I could join you for tutoring in potions if I wanted. I declined."
"Baby steps," says Medusa. "Soft little baby steps." She sips her hot chocolate and looks out over the table then back at him. "The teachers are noticing improvements, Slughorn complimented me on it yesterday. But I know my parents. They're going to hold off as long as they can on doing anything. Doling it back out to me like some kind of candy dispensary. I'm not even angry anymore. It has forced me to become independent and to think differently about things. I highly doubt they expected me to do anything but mope and whine then toe the line." With a faint shake of her head she says to him, "They don't know anything about me and I'm not sure I did either until all of this started."
Douglas flicks a grin. "Independence. Confidence. They're all linked, and they're all damn hot. And it helps to have an ally who'll lend a hand with… a few plans. I'm still working on plan C, though. I just can't get the bloody things to melt."
"Everyone still thinks I am barking mad to have thrown my lot in with you. I'm still getting it in the ear." Medusa looks up at him, undoubtedly contributing to the continuing belief that she is a besotted fool. "I'll go to the library and look for some books later. There has to be something in there."
"From who?" Douglas asks, raising a brow. "I mean, you've told them I'm all just part of your master plan to take over the world, right? Or that I'm just some addlebrained pureblood to keep your family from poking their nose into your affairs?" There's a certain brusqueness in his tone, which he covers by giving a wry smile. "Or was it something you ate? Something in the Slytherin food this year turning girls crazy?"
"Lately? Lucian. He thinks you're a lazy git with no ambition and won't listen when I protest and sing your praises." She motions to the top of her head, "I think he's lost some sense, too much energy spent on growing all that hair." Medusa smirks. "Surprisingly nobody has suggested the master plan as a rationalisation." Her chin drops onto his shoulder. "You are my secret keeper, Douglas. There is nobody I trust more than you."
"Proudmore? Well, let him think it," Douglas suggests amiably. "Then he won't try to get in the way or try to figure out what we're up to. Besides, you know he pretty much just hates all Gryffindors. I wouldn't bother protesting. I'd just tell him you're using me for cover or whatever." He flicks a smile at that last. "Well, you know all my secrets. It only seems fair. Well, most of my secrets."
Medusa slips her arms around his middle and hugs him. "You know I don't fancy him, right? Or any of them. Even Alphard who thinks everyone fancies him, he's a bit like Janette in that." She squints an eye shut as she peers at Douglas, "Most of your secrets? What do you mean most?"
Douglas grins, turning to dot a kiss to her cheek. "I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you. Or… you know. I'm sure I haven't told you everything. Like I'm sure I don't know everything about you. Yet. I mean… like… when's your birthday? What's your favourite colour? Favourite food? Other than my sausage, I mean."
"February 28th." Medusa drops her arms and picks up her cup to peer inside it only to find it empty. Her mouth tilts into a lopsided grin, "You can always use your two remaining questions." She sets the cup down. "Favourite foods and colours aren't very secretive. I like black and silver and I seem to eat mint humbugs more than anything else, although I do like fish."
"You eat mint humbugs because that's what I've got," Douglas points out, grinning back at her. "And it hides the smell of smoke better."
"What can I say," she grins, shrugging, "I'm partial to the things you keep in your trousers." Medusa reaches over and picks up an orange, begins to peel it. "They taste nice too. Minty fresh breath."
Douglas coughs, a crumb of toast going down the wrong way. Eyes streaming, he splutters, shaking his head as he clears it. "You know you're welcome to suck on anything I keep in my trousers," he manages, grinning as he wipes his mouth. "So what do your family expect you to do when you leave school, anyway?"
She kindly hands him his glass of long forgotten juice. "Thank you for the kind offer, Douglas." Medusa returns his grin as she waits for him to take the glass from her hand. "They've never really said, in all honesty I think they wrote me off years ago. I know my OWL results weren't what they had been hoping for."
Douglas nods thanks, taking a long drink and wiping his mouth. "So they're not going to be too disappointed when you're in an office somewhere, trying to convince respectable businessmen that a week's survival in Scotland is just what they need?"
"I highly doubt I can disappoint them anymore than I already have, well maybe I could if I dated some mudblood but that will never happen. Besides, convincing men of what they want is easy." Medusa finishes peeling her orange and pulls off a segment from the fruit. "They want to feel manly and as if attractive women find them attractive. Sell them that and they'll do just about anything."
"But they're not going to step in and stop you?" Douglas asks, concerned. "I mean, without you, I've got no chance. If they decide to drag you off to some ministry job, then what?"
"They're not going to step in and stop me, no." Medusa offers him the orange segment. "My brothers and sister were all allowed to do what they wished and I'm not the heir, Abraxas is. His mother is young, she can have more children if she wants to so I'm not even the spare." She gently nudges him in the side with her elbow, "You are stuck with me Macmillan. Don't think I'm letting you squirm out of it. I need your business to ensure my own runs smoothly."
"Your own?" Douglas queries, popping the orange segment into his mouth. "Which business exactly is that?"
"The things I do now, just, out there." Medusa pulls another segment off the orange and pops it into her mouth. "They won't clash, but compliment one another. My contacts and savvy. Your knowledge. We will give people what they want be it adventure traipsing through the highlands or an introduction to the right people."
"And you get what you want," Douglas suggests, waggling his brows as he moves to rise. "A rugged, rough around the edges lad to dream about all day." He leans to press a kiss to her cheek. "Don't terrify the first years too much. I'll see you in Charms."