(1938-11-12) Wands at Midnight
Details for Wands at Mightnight
Summary: Alphard stumbles upon Myrus, Esther and Douglas, who are quietly taking a breath of fresh air.
Date: 1938
Location: Castle Rooftops

It's a cold night on the rooftop, as Myrus enters. Esther and Douglas are sitting together, which also might not help the rumours of late. "Douglas, Myrus. Myrus, Douglas." She offers introductions, settling against the cold stone and watching the two.

"Myrus?" Douglas queries, brows lifting as he looks the other boy over. "The kid Malfoy kneed in the balls? Huh. I expected you to have a higher voice." He shakes his head. "Naw, not really. I'll give you a few tips, though. Don't fuck with a Malfoy."

"Yeah, that's me." He answers. "And no, she didn't knee me in the balls. And my hand never touched her-" he moves it about palm facing his own chest, hands up in the air, "Whatever. It's too late for that anyway, I kicked her chair over on purpose because she called me out to not know what to do with a damsel in distress. So, I really do still owe her one anyway."

Douglas snorts a laugh. "Yeah, if you'd gone for her boobs, you'd know about it. I reckon you got off pretty light, considering." He loops an arm casually around Esther's shoulders. "So this is your cousin? Not your sister?"

Myrus nods, "I know. I caught a glimpse," head tilt quickly to the side, "Matter of fact it was difficult -not- to notice," and he nods to Doug's question. "Yeah. Don't hurt her. I can get pretty viscious on the duelling mat and I'm not afraid of losing house points or getting expelled." A sarcastic threatening pointyfinger!

Esther blushes faintly, shrugging off the arm and shooting Douglas a filthy look for his trouble. "Watch where you put that or you'll be Hogwarts first one-handed… What position do you play?" Whether she's being honest or teasing is a different matter.

Douglas grins broadly. "I've lost almost 200 house points since the beginning of term. You think I give a shit about points? You think anyone gives a shit about them? You think I'll be filling in an application form for a job next year, and one of the questions they'll ask is 'how many points did your house get'?" He snorts, pointing at Myrus and leaning forward a little. "Points are their way of trying to get everyone to follow their little mould, be quiet, meek little students, study, and never think for themselves. What do you even get out of it? Nothing! Points cost them nothing to create, and get given and taken away purely arbitrarily, and there's no big reason to get them at the end! It's a fucking scam! How does nobody else see that?"

Myrus just stands there looking at Douglas as he explains this. And merely smiles at the end of it. Leaning forward and holding his hands out palms forward with a little wiggle of his head as he says, "Why do you think I'm not afraid to lose them?!" He even laughs after he says that. A look to Esther, "He plays Beater. Probably the roughest position."

"If you won't let me mock him, how will he learn?" Esther protests, although Douglas' boast has her looking at him in complete fascination. It's probably not the best position for the family to be in - Myrus and Douglas all buddy buddy, while Douglas and Esther sit together in a crennelation… Bad day.
Bad. Bad. Day.

Douglas runs a hand through his hair. "Well, yeah, it's the roughest position. Not exactly a glorious one, either. Seekers and Chasers get all the swooning fangirls. We just do the job."

"Well isn't this cozy. Lowe," which was Myrus in this occasion, because Esther was: "Darling cousin." Alphard's voice drifted on ahead of the boy himself, who was lazily strolling. He had a polished apple with him, which he was bouncing off his elbow, catching it in his hand, then bouncing it off his elbow again. "Macmillan."

Myrus kinda dips his head in an ever-headlowering nod, looking at the ground. "Yeah. And the duelling practices and competitions as far as I know are held in private, 'safe' locations. I've never been to a competition, honestly. But.." he gestures to Esther talking to Douglas, "Apparently you don't need those airheaded fangirls. You get a woman of substance and crazy ha-" he hears the new voice up here and looks to see.. "Alphard.." he says, knowing how this now might turn out after what little 'help' he was when trying to bring Elizabeth in to help Myrus out. Well, maybe not then. "What brings you up here?"

"Black," Douglas greets, lifting his chin to the Slytherin beater. "How's it going?" He nudges Esther in the side, flashing her a quick grin as she's described. "Substance? I think he just called you fat, Lowe."

Not Alphard. Not now. "Black." Esther responds, almost levelly. Surrounded by supportive people, and with her recent conflict, she's become much more confrontational around him. Of course, any kind of witty remark she could make is silenced by Douglas, and results in a glare instead.

"Well, we can't all have the screaming fangirls," Alphard commented idly to Myrus, having heard that little tidbit before he arrived. Thanks to Medusa's machinations, there had been bouncing cheerleaders waving signs with his name at the match. Though his ego was probably already so engorged that it couldn't possible worse, right? So no harm, no foul. He kept bouncing his apple, lazily, until finally he reached the group and snatched it to take a bite. Crunch. He made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. "Just taking a break. Getting some fresh air. And it's going good, Macmillan. You?" He could be cordinal. Esther got a crooked smile for her glare.
"Looks like you're not too bad off yourself," Alphard added to Douglas, with a look towards Esther.

Myrus looks at Douglas with narrowed eyes. "Quit misunderstanding me on purpose, you red and yellow codpiece." Friendly banter already? He glances at Esther and looks between the two lovebirds over there. His eyebrows press downward a little. And… is that a frown on his face? He looks away just as he realizes how his face is distorting, and looks at Alphard. As he moves to the wall and leans against it, crossing his arms and gloved hands across his chest (dressed in his duelling getup right now for some reason) and crosses a foot lazily over the other. Myrus just looks up and off towards the darkening skies. Grump grump grump.
It was when Alphard made that comment about 'not everyone can have screaming fangirls' that Myrus looked away like that.

"You know women can't keep their hands off me," Douglas points out amiably. "Soon as they heard I'm a free man, I've had nothing but queues of girls, each trying to outdo the last." He glances to Myrus, raising a brow. "What're you doing looking at my codpiece, Lowe? You want to join the queue, too? Sorry, mate. You're not my type."

Esther's glare only grows towards Alphard, finally speaking. "I could care less for boys with nothing better to do than play with sticks or dolls, Black." She's far enough away from Douglas to look relatively innocent, but his comment doesn't help. "I'm so enamoured that I refuse to touch him, clearly. A holy grail."

"So what're you doing in that outfit, pal?" Alphard casually inquired of Myrus and his duelling getup. Inbetween his only half-attentive inputs to the conversation he kept crunching on his apple. His gaze was wandering, took, looking up at the skies.
"Yeah, your type is more the wrinkled old hags in the Three Broomsticks, right?" He grinned, flicking a brief look at Douglas. Meanwhile, Esther's glares just slid off him with absolutely no effect. Whenever he did notice them, they just made him grin wider. That smug, knowing smile that said he'd taken one look at the scene and jumped to all the worst conclusions, and wasn't buying her protests! "Well, you always were shy."

"So now you're a -deaf- codpiece, too," Myrus idly spurts still looking off into space. Esthers comment about holy grail makes him burst out a vigorous snortlaugh, making him come off the stone wall for a moment until he can regain his composure and lean against the wall again.
He looks at himself, then Alphard. "I thought there was practice this evening. Apparently it was cancelled and I missed the notice."

"Don't knock trying it on with older women, Black," Douglas suggests amiably. "They've got a lot of tricks up their sleeve." He shuffles over closer to Esther, giving her a bright smile. "It's all right. I don't bite."

Esther does something almost unheard of. She's compelled into action by a stressful day and a lack of sleep, rising from the crennelation as Douglas moves in close, lifting her slender wand and muttering through clenched teeth. "Rattia." It's an unpleasant thing to do, to transform someone's snack into a squirming mass of flesh, but she /does/ seem to have turned Alphard's dinner apple into… Well, a rat. "S'apt. I always figured you Blacks for dogs - Have you got plans, or are you going to keep hanging around until one of us feeds you?"

At least it wasn't a spider. A spider and all reason would have fled from Alphard's mind. Which wasn't really a good thing when you had a wand and a borderline sociopathic personality. With a loud: "Ugh!" Of disgust, Alphard dropped the rat that was wriggling from its tail in his hand. Immediately his eyes narrowed into a nasty glare, and without hesitation there was a wand in his hand as well. With murderous intent the boy took a step forward and aimed it straight at her. "You're going to regret that, cousin," he hissed with menace.

Quickly, Myrus was laughing at the rat, but as soon as Alphard had his wand out, Myrus was drawn as well, aimed in on him, "Black… don't do it.." Myrus moves quickly between Alphard and Esther, about halfway obscuring Esther.

Douglas hops to his feet, arms out, to stand in front of Esther. "Whoa, steady on, Black. Just a joke, mate. Just a joke." He glances back over his shoulder at Esther with a 'what the fuck??' glare.

"Like you know how to use that." Esther is completely unable to come up with a comment - But she is standing side on, wand at the ready, challenging him to come closer, to move just a step more in her direction, to cast the first hex. "Call it a joke. We're all friends here, right?" She states, her voice… Well, it's obvious that no-one here could believe that if they tried. Plus, she's not putting her wand down, even with people getting in the middle.

"I sort of like you, Lowe, so I'm going to give you this chance to step aside," Alphard coldly declared. "She asked for it. She's still bloody asking for it. The bitch wants to see what I can do with this wand?" His smile was lopsided, an ugly thing of seething fury. "Let her."

Douglas holds up his hands, moving to one side. "You're on your own, Esther. When you're in a hole next time, just stop digging." He settles back against the parapet, folding his arms. "And if anyone asks, you both slipped."

Myrus wasn't ready to back down like Douglas was. "Whether she was wrong or not-" He jutted his wand forward quickly, as fast as he could utter "Depulso!" Even stepping like he learned in duelling class. If he's gonna do it, he's gonna do it right!

Pushed too far, this is a decision made in a mindset that just isn't going to last. Myrus' initial attack is joined by Esther, the Lowe's united as her voice cries out, "Stupefy!" Her own step is to the side, as her wand lashes out a blast of bright red.

Alphard's wand moved almost by itself when Myrus and Esther started to go through the motions of casting. He didn't seem surprised. There was a ice cold calmness about his bodylanguage, too, one that was in stark contrast to the fury in his eyes. How dare these pathetic Lowes use magic on him?!
"Protego!" With two spells going for him, the one he tried to defelct was the most dangerous one.
Alphard's protection spell was fairly powerful, sending a surge of magical energies out from where he was standing, threatening to knock the other three students off their feet.
"You you know what you just did?" He asked.

"Oh for…" Douglas manages, bracing himself for any stray magical pulses. "You're a fucking idiot, Lowe! Both of you!" He reaches out to grab at Esther's wand arm to wrestle it back. Magic be damned, his wand's away, so he'll go with sheer bulk. "There's dicking about and then there's trying to kill a guy!"

Esther's first spell doesn't seem to have the desired effect, the resulting blastwave caught in a spin - The girl's wand is back up again a moment later, and she's suddenly grabbed from behind, struggling for a few moments. She's pretty easily subdued, though, her wand taken from her person and her arm seized by Douglas. She stops struggling pretty quickly afterwards, glaring at Alphard. Silent.

Douglas grips Esther tightly, glaring at Myrus. "You. You tripped. Black? You were practicing. And Esther? You're a fucking idiot, but nobody saw anything. We all clear?"

Myrus' spell absolutely works, it's just Alphard was larger than something he could have moved with that spell at the moment. The blast wave of the defensive spell doesn't knock him off his feet, and he looks at Douglas, then Esther, then Alphard. His eyes go wide and he looks down at his hand with the wand in it.
"I.. I'm not myself today.." it's like he was already stunned from something, and he just resets his wand into his sleeve, looking at Alphard. "I.. I don't know what I was-" He looks at Esther quickly, "Stup-" Yes, nothing, saw nothing, he was willing to accept that.

Alphard wasn't done just because Douglas had gotten involved. As far as he was concerned, the other two students' actions had opened up a host of oppertunities for him. It wasn't often he got to indulge in magic and be able to say he was just defending himself! He flicked his wand in Myrus' direction, since Douglas had conveniently dealt with his other antagonist.
"Petrificus Totalus!" It wasn't one of the commonly known spells, but rather a particularly advanced bit of duelling magic. And who cared if Myrus had sheathed his wand? His problem for thinking you could start a war, and the end it just when you pleased!

Myrus didn't see it coming. Well, he did, but he never expected it. WHy didn't he? His mind had been wrapped around something or someone else at the moment, and they weren't even here right now.
In any case, he falls backwards to the ground with a heavy whump, stiff as a board.

Esther's wriggles one wrist, making sure Douglas has her in hand. She was probably willing to accept the compromise, really… Of course, when Myrus is attacked while unexpected, it renews her vigor - The Slytherin girl leaping forward, sliding an arm free of her robe, only to have it grasped again. "You /ass!/" She calls out. It's all she has in the way of insults, on hand.

And as Esther struggles, so Douglas shifts his weight, thumping her up against the crenellations of the rooftop and pinning her in place there with his own weight. It's a good attempt to stop her, even if to any passers by it might look more like he's rogering her from behind. "Black!" he calls back over his shoulder in exasperation. "Enough! Prop him up so you don't get caught!"

"I'm not gonna turn you in, Lowe," Alphard told Myrus as he stalked towards Douglas and Esther with his wand still in his hand, and cold fury still in his eyes. Vicious malice still dripping from his voice like poison. "Because then I'd have to explain why I did this." His foot pulled back menacingly as he passed Myrus by.. before he stomped with all his power the hard sole of his polished dress shoe into Myrus' wand hand. He wasn't out to just hurt, either. This was the sort of bone-breaking viciousness that was out of line even for Alphard's general nastiness.
"All just a lot of accidents, eh?" His eyes fixed on Esther, and told her: "This is on you." What he had just done to Myrus? All on her.

It's definitely an awkward position. Esther is pinned against a big piece of stone, her face not grated off thanks mainly to the efforts of her unusual hair. Still, she's able to see exactly what Alphard does to her cousin, struggling weakly as he advances, a soft cry of "…Don't!" before the sounds of bone breaking greet the late night rooftops. She looks away, immediately. Failing to meet Alphard's eyes, they're locked forward, as her teeth seize the inside of her lip. She won't say anything more.

The crushing of bone in his hand. At least a finger was broken, not to mention the metacarpuls within the palm were easily wrenched by the older boy's weight, likely tearing the naturally mending stuff like sinew and tendon.
Through the whole moment of that crushing split second, Myrus is unable to do anything. Move, cry out in pain, twitch.
Though a tear does fall from his eyes as he blankly stares upward lying flat on his back on the ground.

Douglas turns, releasing Esther and rolling up his sleeves. "Enough, Black! How're you going to explain that one away?" he queries. "Give it a moment, then get him to Spleen. There was an accident. I can't afford to get called in over this one."

Alphard made his wand vanish, then did exactly what Douglas had asked of him earlier, grabbing Myrus and propping him up while the younger boy was still suffering from the effects of the Body-Bind curse. There was nothing in his expression or his body language that said he'd just done anything cruel. He was acting like nothing had happened, in fact. Guilt for what? And once he had Myrus up he patted his shoulder companionably.
"Well, this was fun. Lowe, dearest cousin, Macmillan.. I seem to be down an apple, so I'll be heading back to get another one of those. And.. don't worry, Macmillan. He'll be fine in a second. Then he can say he was playing some Quidditch and got hit by the Bludger. Come on. It's happened to me a dozen times." Shrug. "Just an accident."

Clearly Black means nothing compared to her flesh and blood. Esther feels the hand let go, and she quickly moves to tend to Myrus, knowing that he'd probably wake in a moment in… Well, terrible pain. No wand, clothing awry, her biggest attention is on his hand, biting her lip aggressively. She's worried herself bleeding already.

As Myrus is propped up, the effects are already starting to wear off. His eyes were the first to be able to move. He looks at Alphard the whole time. At least until his neck, jaw and lungs started to wiggle as the curse gave way and his knees finally bent and he was on the ground again.
It started as a blurbling sound through limp lips. Turned into a gurgling and then groaning, grunting and panting.
It was all of a sudden that moaning turned into an all-out gut-wrenching scream as his arm didn't really move much, and even with whoever trying to help him, likely Esther, his hand would have to drag across something or hit something preemptively trying to cradle it to his chest and loosely hold his wrist with his other hand, still crying out in excruciating pain on the ground unless he was caught.
His legs writhed on the cold stone floor(?) of the walkway limply as well, as if he had just woken up from a heavy sleep.

"Oh, man up," Douglas insists, rolling his eyes. "Fucking baby. We've all had worse." And, in fact, as beaters, Alphard and he almost certainly have had worse. He nods to Esther. "Spleen. Now."

"And Esther," Alphard was moving away with his usual calm confidence, not even bothering to look back as he addressed his cousin. Though his hand was close to his wand, just incase. If he wasn't above attacking someone from behind, he wasn't going to trust someone else didn't have equal lack of scruples. "Every time you mess with me from now on, I'm going to make sure he's the one who suffers. Every. Bloody. Time." Myrus' screams didn't seem to bother him at all. Humming to himself, he withdrew.
"Which is a pity, really. Since I sort of like him." Alphard added, dryly.

Esther finally returns that gaze, holding her cousin in her arms, supporting him so that he doesn't crumple to the ground. Her eyes are locked on Alphard's - Smoky gray smouldering with something new. She's had plenty of reactions to bullying in the past. But this is hate. Deep. True. Silent despise.

Myrus' initial scream had subsided. Almost as if he heard, listened, and heeded Douglas' words. His hand was swollen now, and he used his off-hand to try and support himself on Esther, or the wall.. yeah the wall is far sturdier.. but a lot colder. Like Alphard's heart, it seems.
On the trip to Spleen, Myrus wouldn't say anything, or answer why or how it happened. Just stare at a wall in front of him for now.

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