(1938-11-14) More Breakfast
Details for More Breakfast
Summary: Myrus confronts Alphard over his broken hand, before Esther talks him down with plans of revenge. Exactly what sort of books Ria and Andromena read while pretending to study is revealed.
Date: 1938-11-14
Location: Great Hall
Related: Played Pawn

Alphard's brow knitted in a slight frown at the suggestion that Meanie and Medusa had some sort of secret between them. He was still frowning as he waved her goodbye, not even commenting on her intent to spit seeds. "She was just bluffing, wasn't she?" Finally asked of Douglas once Malfoy was on her way.

Douglas just eyes Alphard. "Bluffing? About secrets? Malfoy? Not a chance, Black," he points out, reaching for another sausage to match Alphard's mountain of food, morsel by morsel. "Of course she's got secrets. Meanie, too. But there's some things we don't need to know. Like… woman stuff."

"Knowing is always preferable to ignorance," Alphard countered, which sounded like a quote from somewhere. "But I guess it doesn't matter. I still think she's bluffing." He went back to chewing through his food. "You know, I never actually bought the whole you and Lowe romance story. A bit too much of a trade down."

"I never touched her anyway," Douglas points out. "She's like… what? A fourth year or something? No way." He shakes his head, shrugging. "But rumours are rumours, and you know what girls are like. Still, we got it sorted. Malfoy can't live without me."

"Fifth year." It was something knew'd known because his mother had sent him a letter to look after his little cousin in his second year. Which he had mostly ignored. "I still don't get it." The Malfoy not being able to live without him, part. "But I've honestly given up even trying. I was sort of hoping you'd h ook up with my cousin eventually, actually. Could've sorted her out a bit. Now I'm back to wondering what I'm supposed to do with her."

Alphard was sitting at the Gryffindor table with Douglas. Which was probably still earning him glares. And possibly Doulgas glares. The Black kid was not very popular in that particular House.

And it's breakfast.

Douglas waves a hand vaguely. "No offence, Black, but little kids? No thanks. We can set her up with somebody, though. What about that Kyle kid? You know the one who's sweet on Sykes?"

"Kyle?" It took Alphard a few moments of hard thinking before the name actually meant something to him. "Wait? Not the half blood with the Muggle 'magic', right?" Demonstrativly he shook his head. "No way. I want her to ground herself back in the right mentality, not go even more bonkers on us. You have no idea the hassle my mother'll give me if she found out I had something to do with her being with that kind of riff-raff."

In walks the -other- Lowe. Myrus. He came into the hall and looked around. He was late for a reason. Taking off and putting on that brace added a good five to ten minutes to his morning routine. BUt he could deal with only having a light breakfast today, maybe get up earlier tomorrow.

Now he sits at the ravenclaw table, grabbing things and pulling them to in front of himself and beginning eating with one hand. He stopped, overhearing a conversation behind him he really didn't want to be a part of, so just lower your head, act natural, and keep eating. Apparently he didn't notice he sat right near where Alphard and Douglas were sitting.

"She Magijugend?" Douglas queries, wrinkling his nose. "Maybe we can set her up with somebody there. Or just tell her folks she's hooked a seventh year pureblood. Rumour's a wonderful thing, pal."

"No, she's not. She thinks the Magijugend are 'silly'. You see what I have to deal with? And mother's made it pretty clear she expects me to at least keep an eye out for her. I never figured it was this bad. I sort of feel bad now for ignoring her all these years." With frustration Alphard raked his fingers back through his dark hair. It seemed to be genuinely troubling him.

The urge to overhear the conversation a bit better might have won, but not wanting to deal with Douglas and.. -him- this morning outweighed it. So Myrus keeps-

"Eh! Myrus! How's the hand?" Another Ravenclaw shouts. Myrus grumbles, gonna have to smack him later.

"It's fine." He grumbles in return. That's it, sour mood.

Douglas bites into the last piece of his sausage, wiping his mouth. "She's just kind of idealistic. I talked to her about it," he explains, mouth full. "She doesn't want people to die. Makes sense. So I explained how we're standing up to make sure the muggles don't all rise up and kill us, them, each other, the whole lot. I think she gets it now." He glances back, grinning faintly. "Hey, Lowe."

"Lowe," Alphard turned around in his seat to find Myrus there. His own perfectly unharmed wand-hand lifted up in a lazy wave, a perfectly companionable greeting. His voice was even on the friendly side as he asked: "How's it going?" There was no sign he felt bad about what he'd done, but neither was there any outwards gloating. It was like he'd never actually callously broken Myrus' hand.

Myrus waves his unbroken hand holding his spoon from his oatmeal over his shoulder. He turns around, looking at both of them. "You two talking about Esther?" He assumes yes, "You know I found her out on the roof at the Forest Louvre nearly frozen to death? What did you do to her?"

Douglas holds up his hands. "Not me, pal! I don't do that kind of thing." He nods towards Alphard. "He's the one who beats on women, not me."

"Excuse me?" Alphard asked of Douglas, scowling in the older boy's direction. "I don't beat on women." Though he grudgingly had to admit that: "But I'm not going to be anyone's punching bag, no matter if they're a girl." With a sniff he looked at Lowe again. "Anyway, we were talking about my cousin, yes." Emphasizing the fact that Myrus wasn't the only one related to her. "And how to get her off the current path of self destruction she's wedded herself to. Case in point, trying to kill herself."

"Look, if you need my help, you know where I am," Douglas decides, rising to his feet. "But I'm staying out of your family issues."

Myrus turns halfway now, putting one leg on either side of the bench seat he was on, brace resting on his thigh as he looks at Alphard.

"Huh. Maybe she's on that path because she blames herself for my broken hand," he muses directly at the Slytherin boy. "And -maybe- she feels bad she was pretty much the one that put me in that position. Suggesting I do what I did in some way or form. Then that stupid Beater… might as well have just -stepped- on my hand to break it, y'know what I mean, Black?" Venom in his words as much as he could muster.

"She was already on that path, Lowe. Though she certainly wouldn't be wrong if she blamed herself for the consequences that came to pass as a result of her actions. It was her fault. If she has accepted that, then perhaps she might be willing to choose a different direction. One where there are no more unfortunate consequences." His tone remained companionable, but beneath the surface lurked a predatory warning. His dark eyes fixed on Myrus' with cool challenge, too, answering that venom dripping from the younger boy's words.

"You should help her with that, since she's unwilling to listen to reason from me these days. Which is a real pity."

"Just pawn your laziness and inhumanity on other people." He thinks for a moment. "You know, you stop with all this stuff against the two of us, or at least her.. and I'll help her all I can. And that -includes- punishing her by taking it out on me!" A few of the younger students around were starting to edge away from Myrus at the ravenclaw table. He wasn't usually the loud sort. A hush falls over this little area, but not the whole Great Hall. Myrus didn't have that booming of a voice just yet in life.

And them edging away could be from either worry that Myrus would do something, or the slytherin he's almost yelling at would.

"Just pawn your laziness and inhumanity on other people." He thinks for a moment. "You know, you stop with all this stuff against the two of us, or at least her.. and I'll help her all I can. And that -includes- punishing her by taking it out on me!" A few of the younger students around were starting to edge away from Myrus at the ravenclaw table. He wasn't usually the loud sort. A hush falls over this little area, but not the whole Great Hall. Myrus didn't have that booming of a voice just yet in life.

And them edging away could be from either worry that Myrus would do something, or the slytherin he's almost yelling at would.

"Listen, Lowe. I've been willing to excuse what you did, seeing as how I can appreciate the need to defend one's family. Even when they're terribly in the wrong. It is infact why I want that stupid little bitch stop acting like she's a loonie. If she wasn't family, I wouldn't bloody care. I'd just stomp her out like a bug. I can even appreciate you striking first, which I technically advised you to do in a smiliar situation. Though I'm no Macmillan." Whom Alphard had promised wouldnt hurt Myrus bad if it came to a fight. With languid grace, like a serpent uncoiling, Alphard slid off the Gryffindor bench to face Myrus properly at his full imposing height. "But then you take a tone like that, and I start feeling less generous. While Myrus had been loud, Alphard's voice never left that soft-companionable pitch, droning on as if they were talking about the weather.

"You do that," help her. "And I won't have to. Because she'll have changed course. Fail, and that.." his eyes fell to Myrus' hand. "Is just the start."

Esther's morning has been hell enough, without walking in to Alphard and Myrus having a meeting of the minds. She walks through the great hall, having clearly not had enough of being what everyone is talking about - And for now, she doesn't bother to change course for Gryffindor's bench to speak with her cousins. She's happy at Slytherin.

Myrus stands up as well, looking up at the slightly taller, older boy. "Look here, you. You only care that you're inconvenienced that your cousin is showing signs of weakness and have to intervene to keep face. I care that she's hurting, in pain and under some sort of torment from you. Keep her in line by threatening violence against someone she cares about? Hah! Noone would ever say a single word of distain if the same were threatened of her, and -you- the scapegoat, and she didn't even lift a finger to change!" Now he was completely shouting. He wasn't a very emotional person very often. Just he'd been under a lot of stress lately. Mainly this topic being one of the two that is on the forefront.

One of the teachers at the front had already stood up, the Ravenclaw House Master, giving Myrus that little sign of 'shut up and sit down and eat if you know what's good for you'.

A sneer of growing contempt plucked at his upper lip as he stared down the combative Ravenclaw. "Think what you like, Lowe, as long as you do as I say. Whether I care or not hardly matters as long as the end result is the same." His frame leaned in a touch further, while his tone droppd a notch to become a malicious little whisper: "And one more thing. Don't think that she is the only one who can get you in trouble. Keep this up and find out just how far my patience will stretch. Once it snaps.. well.." His smile was lopsided and cruel, and he looked past Myrus towards the Slytherin table. "What do you bet she'll blame herself for your actions, too, eh?"

With a nonchalant shrug he pealed away, starting to put distance between himself and Myrus.

It demands interference. Esther hears the increase in volume, and decides that not causing trouble again is over-rated. She looks distant though, as she wanders closer to the wrong tables, placing a comforting hand on her cousin's shoulder, and gripping a 'little' tightly. "Cousin. Alphard;" She states smoothly. Her fear has abated. It seems almost overnight - So while she seems worn, the terror mixed with hatred has just left the latter - And it burns, as she stares into his eyes. "I hope you two are playing nice." It's possibly even something of a challenge, considering where things left off.

The male Lowe was already sitting by the time Esther got there. Though Black's whispered words in his ear made him look up from his food at Esther heading towards them. His good hand white-knuckle gripped around his cup on the table, fingertips and nails pressing against the edge of the liquid container. Even his injured hand was making a fist. Once his mind woke up from the anger when Esther started talking and put her hand on his shoulder, his hurt hand releases and he winces, wiggling it a little inside the brace. The fist itself wasn't a fist, and he was really just kinda gripping the leather part on his palm with the metal rod support. Awkward even for an unbroken hand to be gripping. No wonder it hurt.

He looks up at Alphard who was already leaving, then cranes his head back to look at Esther up from where he sits. Leaning his head on her waist. "I wasn't playing nice. And I won't. Not anymore." And he looks away, returning his head to look at his food, and he takes a drink of his orange juice.

"Always, cousin dearest. Always! Macmillan sends his regards!" Alphard threw it back over his shoulder as walked away. There was a brief moment where he glanced back at them, smiling, even if it was a smile that had nothing to do with the cool reptilian threat emanating from his gaze. He kept walking, though, making little amiable gesture towards the onlookers who had been witness to the confontation. 'Nothing to see, everything's fine' was the message.

Ria arrives from Entry Hall.

The last comment earns a quiet blush from the girl. "Give him my regards." She manages. That's an issue for another day. Thankfully the rumours haven't spread yet, about her breakfast events. "You're going to." Esther states /very/ simply, taking a seat beside her cousin, releasing her cousin by the shoulder. "I won't have you getting injured anymore because of some hellbound pride. Right now, he's in a better position than we are. Soon, it'll be our turn to hold the cards. And then, I swear to you, there will be an answer… But until then, we play it close to the chest."

Myrus just shakes his head, grabbing more of his food and eating it up with his good hand, his injred one on his right thigh, oddly the side where she sits. "Someday.." at least he didn't have to deal with Alphard in the duelling club meetings right now, since his wand hand was still recouperating.

Alphard returned to the Slytherin table after his brief foray at the Gryffindors. The latter House had never wanted him there in the first place - he was not at all popular with them, especially after the quidditch game - but then the dark haired boy had never paid much attention to such niceties as 'invitation'. The Ravenclaw table was probably just has happy to see him go after his little exchange with Myrus, too, with the latter having been shouting angrily.

Looking unphased, or if anything; pleased, Alphard dropped back down amongs his own kind. There were a few questions about 'what the hell was that about?!', but the boy ignored them in favor of sipping on his OJ, and casting a thoughtful look back at Myrus and Esther.

Stumbling in a bit late, but only because she's always perfectly put together, Ria Sykes has a book under her arm at breakfast. Unfortunately she's missed the apex of excitement this morning, but the tension lingers on. And being the astute young witch that she is, she stops at her table to gaze over at Esther and Myrus but then to Alphard. "In a skirmish already? Alphard it's - (she checks her wrist watch) 8:30 in the morning," she sighs and takes a seat next to her housemate. Though peeking at crazy haired Esther and her pale little cousin she asks the boy, "Something happen?"

Esther's voice is firm, actually demanding. "Someday. So we're going to play nice between now and then." The wild-haired girl takes a piece of fruit… The last time she was in she didn't eat a thing, it's taken great fortitude to come back. "But I swear to you, Myrus… That we will have our revenge. I have no intention of letting this," Her eyes glance at the wound. "Stand." She's apologised for it a hundred times. She'll probably continue to. But this is ensuring it doesn't happen again.

Myrus cranes his head down and leans in to whisper at her, "Haven't I told you? I stepped in on my own. If anything, the only person to blame is that prick for antagonizing in the first place. Stop blaming yourself. Next time I won't be so nervous and try to use something stupid.." like a spell to put books back on their shelves. "And if McMillan hadn't been there.. we probably would have won." He was done whispering about that, and grabs some breakfast sausage and bites a piece off, chewing while looking at his cousin next to him.

"Ria." With a little shuffle and wriggle dance some extra space was made for Ria next to him. It meant shoving one of his goonbuddies to the side, but that was par course for them. These days there had been a whole slew of pretty seventh year girls dumping down next to him, so his reputation among the Sixth year Slytherin boys had to be at an all time high!

"Oh, please. You know me.. I don't start anything." Which was a baldfaced lie, but he almost sounded like he actually believed his own bullshit. "Lowe is just having some emotional troubles. He broke his hand, you know.." There was a pause as he brought back the visual. If he intended to play the innocent card he should probably have kept that malevolent little smile off his lips. "Quidditch. Terrible thing, so I'm prepared to let it go. I'm not even going to mock him for screaming like a little girl when it happened." Which made him a saint!

Esther turns to her cousin, her voice pitching just a little bit. "Enough. We might have won. And then what? Spells every time we cross in the hallway? Duelling over every meal?" She's glaring at him, as her voice quietens. "I didn't think my first move through. And what was most likely? He'd have paralysed me and spent the night making you scream, until I begged for mercy." Her voice carries the kind of chill that comes from the horrors of the morning. "There will be an answer for what happened. And you will not satisfy it in Duelling Club, in the Great Hall, in Hogsmeade. We're all going to pretend that we're happy; he's going to make immature barbs, and when he least expects it, we'll leave him cold, alone, and screaming for forgiveness." Cold fury. The best kind.

Of course Ria sat with no qualms, expecting room for her to already be there. So she seems rather pleased and unapologetic that said goonbuddy was heaped off. "You? Start a fight? Never would I ever suspect that of you," she smiles her snaky smile, sliding a plate before her to grab at some morning croissants. "Ahh yes, the news did pass my ears only I was under the impression it wasn't Quidditch." Particularly since Esther had not come back to the dorms that evening. She continues, however, to people watch from next to Alphard. "Hmm, interestingly enough Esther Lowe looks uncomfortably blood thirsty this morning. In fact, this is likely the most lucid I've seen her in a while. Are you sure you won't need protecting in the coming days?"

Myrus looks at Esther with some surprise. And it might have been the recent confrontation that put him right where Esther was, but his wasn more 'protect the innocent' kind of thing. Or at least themselves. He wouldn't admit that he had thought the same thing of Alphard. Leave him with broken shoulders and hips in the forbidden forest by himself, screaming out for someone to save him or something. Myrus had even unconciously been staring straight in front of him at this moment. Luckily it wasn't at anyone in particular, but the two slytherin sitting there kinda parted, hoping he wasn't looking at either one of them directly, then he snaps out of it, and looks behind him at the Slytherin table. But quickly turns back around and just starts eating again. He couldn't dive on headfirst as much as Esther into that black pit of revenge, but he toes at the water, maybe a little push could get him neck deep in it.

"No? What on earth else could have broken his hand like that? Wand hand, too. What a pity. Makes casting anything really tricky, and duelling all but impossible." There had definetly been some thought put behind that particular choice. "Everybody I've talked to has agreed it was Quidditch. A bludger. It's a dangerous game, you know. The sort you really shouldn't play if you're not prepared for the consequences." Though he had already eaten a breakfast for two, he still didn't hesitate at picking up a couple of apple slices to finish off with.

His eyes squinted in Myrus an Esther's direction when Ria mentioned bloodthirst. "You might be right. Perhaps one wasn't enough." Hrm.

Ria nods in agreement, breaking off a morsel of her croissant and delicately placing it in her mouth, "Yes, an important lesson of life." Consequences and what not. And unphased, she continues to stare straight at the Lowes with curiosity until Alphard speaks again. "One?" she tilts her head at the way he looks at Esther. "Whatever it may be Alphard, don't under estimate a woman scorned. Particularly with hair like that. There's a lot of rage in those locks. Myrus though, shouldn't have to worry about that. His spellwork isn't bad, but it's not quite there yet." She's in dueling club. She's seem his work. "Another important life lesson is..," she grabs too apples, offering one to Alphard, "Two is always greater than one."

"If she brings anything my way, she'll regret it," Alphard said with quiet sincerity. His gaze eventually sid off the two Lowe cousins, going sideways towards Ria instead. "Even if she is my cousin. It's the only reason why I've been playing with silk gloves so far. Otherwise I'd stomped her like a bug." He said it with a contemptious sneer. Alphard had a high opinion of his own spellwork. Not entirely unearned, either. Arrogant bastard he might be, but he knew his stuff. Sort of necessary when one had his kind of personality; it was hard to bully someone as the weaker party.

"Yet two mice just means twice the snack for the snake. Bah. They're pathetic, both of them. How're you, anyway? I've not seen you much around."

No apple for him? Okay! Ria sets the fruit down next to the Black boy anyway. "I don't doubt she will," she says not disagreeing with him and instead partaking of her own apple with a crunch. "Those two mice have minds of their own. You know Alphard, I'm not saying you can't hold your own," she talks casually, "Only there are times that you're going to need to work with others. And I'm not talking about some silly group project. The Lowe's aren't afraid to do so, and that's not something to ignore." Ria shrugs, chewing a bit more before hearing the eating sounds of the younger housemate, and raising a brow she judges his assortment of food. "Merlin, Lestrange. That amount this early is simply foul."

"Who says I can't work with others?" Alphard asked with a grunt, eying the apple she had put infront of him. He was still munching on the slices he'd gathered earlier. "I get along fine with others. But do you really expect me to.. what? Cower in worry because a pair of fifth years might gang up on me?" His nose wrinkled in distaste. "Drag up a gang of protectors incase they do something stupid and forget the consequences? Bah. I know what they're up to. If they ever get the courage to do something about it, I'll not be caught unaware." He glanced at Oberon, then his food. With a snort-chuckle he said: "Please, I already had twice that." Nudge.

Morgana arrives from Entry Hall.

Oberon glares at Ria while chewing. He cuts off another piece of toast, and then spears it along with four slices of banana; it all goes in his mouth, albeit not without difficulty. There is a huge bulge in his left cheek. After swallowing, which takes awhile, he says, "Please, Black. No offense, but everyone knows you're a proud, hard-headed solo act. The obvious conclusion is to accept Sykes' help. That way, you won't have to ever deal with the fifth years." Afterwards, it's back to chomping on bacon.

Morgana is coming into the Great Hall, ready for breakfast. She might look a little tired, but those in her house knows that she's been doing a lot of extra studying on the side, for.. something. Either way, she has on one of her forced smiles and greats a few of the lower years by her table. Walking behind her is a Gryffindor boy, who seems to be lingering there for one reason or another. Maybe there is something on the hem of her skirt, because that seems to be where he's staring.

"No cowering of course, but one of those 5th years are under the good graces of Medusa," Ria notes, slicing some of her croissant to butter it in lady-like fashion, "So was Helene at one point, and Jane King never forgot it. Don't worry, I don't think of you as a Jane King of course." She does look a tad bit repulsed at Oberon eating, gingerly saying to the boy, "Oh honestly, breath will you?" Though she does not in agreement to what he's saying, "Not that I can offer any agression. But you say the word for anything, and Slughorn or Flint can be alerted to any particularly belligerent behavior Myrus Lowe seems to be exhibiting." She places it there simple enough with a shrug.

Douglas is not staring at Morgana's skirt, so much as demonstrating an artistic appreciation of the female form in motion. Or, y'know, checking out her arse as he follows her in. Either way. He moves up to the end of the Gryffindor table, ducking down briefly to check beneath it where he was sitting earlier for breakfast.

"Medusa wouldn't turn on me for the likes of Esther Lowe, so I wouldn't worry about that," Alphard said with a lazy shrug of dismissal. Yet after both Oberon and Ria's continued imput, he conceded with a: "But fine. I do appreciate the offer, Ria. I'll keep it in mind incase something comes up and I have a need for something to go in that particular direction." Even if the boy wasn't a great fan of going to the faculty, even to set someone up.

Oberon takes a breath through his nostrils while shooting Ria another glare. His chest wells up to a startling size, almost as if he has real muscles under his robes, before resuming its rather puney and narrow state. Oberon is thin, almost too thin. His next bite is much smaller, though, and he quickly adds, "Smart. And I'll agree that Medusa is unlikely to do such a thing. Unlikely being the key word." The entrance of Morgana and Douglas does not go unnoticed. The boy tilts his head for a moment, but then smirks (perhaps after realizing what, exactly, Douglas is doing.)

Oh, look, it's a Rowle. Entering the Great Hall with her nose buried in a book. Go figure. Her realm of awareness extends only far enough to avoid bumping into anyone nearby, or, arguably worse, walking into a table or wall or something. When the book is put aside, a slim finger is thrust between the pages to hold her place just long enough for her to grab…a muffin. Delicious muffin. Andromena may use you as a descriptor for something else entirely that makes enjoying you a guilty thing, but nobody else need know. Target acquired, the Ravenclaw's next mission is to safely scope out and secure a location. When this became a military operation, one can never know.

Douglas straightens from his search, jamming his hands in his pockets to double check them. Still coming up empty, he ambles over towards the Slytherin table, flicking Alphard on the back of the head. "Black, you seen my mice?"

Morgana didn't spot Douglas when she came in, mostly because he was being sneaky and looking at things he should not. "Hey Macmillin." She says quietly, shaking her head at him. "Loosing things already? The day has barely started." She'll lean against the Ravenclaw table as she speaks, since Douglas has seemed to gravitate toward the Snakes.

Ria takes a bit of her now buttery croissant, looking at Alphard and gesturing to Oberon casually with her butterknife. "Unlikely being the key word," she repeats and with a simple enough nod she silently gives a 'you're welcome'. The LeStrange's smirk, draws Ria's attention to Morgana and Douglas' entrance. Her eyes roll. Once they've arrived to the snake table she gives the girl fair warning, "You had a cat on your tail, Rashley." She throws Douglas a look turning back to her croissant.

From above, a gaggle of owls swoop in carrying packages and letters for all the boys and girls. A newspaper drops below right in front of Ria, the image of a defaced Gambol and Japes Joke Shop with witches and wizards running in and out with their goods is clear on the front page. Meanwhile, a package slips through the claws of an owl accidentally and is heading right for Andromena's head. How's that for testing the girl's awareness!

"The two of you, so cynical," Alphard mock-chided Oberon and Ria, making a little tsk-tsk-tsk sound to follow up. "Where's the faith in people just being good friends, doing things because it's the right thing?" Finally he reached downf or the apple Ria had given him earlier, polishing it off his robes' sleeve before he took a crunch. There was just no bottom to this boy's stomach. He could eat all day long.

"What? No. Though I wouldn't be surprised if the Lowe ate it. He's not very pleased with you, you know." Or Alphard, but that went without saying.

Oberon finishes his french toast, along with some eggs, as his copy of the prophet is brought to him by an owl with distinct, gold markings. The creature flaps gracefully, if such a thing is possible, while letting the paper drop to Oberon's left. The boy, meanwhile, ignores the birds', and the posts', appearance in favor of looking up at Douglas and Morgana. "What, didn't find them under her skirt?" he asks, smirk growing considerably while he studies Doug.

Andromena may look as if she's paying no attention to the world at large. Such is simply not true. Having spotted Alphard, and…subsequently, Ria, the young woman smiled to herself and began to meander towards them. There was a brief, very brief moment where she hesitated. Should she just invite herself? Then she stuffed those bothersome worries down, down, down. It's not as if she were any kind of par- mental thought ceased. In one fluid motion, Andromena swiped her book horizontally across her chest, set her muffin upon it, and then reached out with her now-free hand to catch the package that had been spiralling toward her. She gazed at it, to see it was actually meant for her or another.

"If Lowe ate my mice, we're going to have to have words after all," Douglas decides, flicking a grin as he's called out. "Hey, I wasn't looking under her skirt! Just… at it. Appreciating. Hey, Rashley." He turns, giving Morgana the finger guns. "Which reminds me, I need to talk to you at some point. About property and stuff." He nudges Ria, informing her cheerfully, "And I think you'll find I'm not a cat, but a dog."

Morgana turns to Ria as she is addressed and raises her brow at Douglas. "He only stares because he knows he has no chance anything further. But he is right, he is way more than a dog than he is a cat." However when he mentions needing to talk to her about something she'll smirk and shake her head. "Property? I thought I already told you, I don't care how much it brings out your eyes, you cannot borrow my frock." THough the commotion that Andromena causes, makes Morgana shake her head. She does clap however, since it was a good save.

"It died long ago with my soul," Ria says dryly, peeking at the front page with little reaction before folding it inside out to look at the society pages. Oberon's retort makes her giggle as she leans her chin on her fist, but the nudge she wasn't expecting and Douglas succeeds to throw off her sitting balance just a touch. "A dog indeed! Why don't you just have a sniff up there while you're at it," she gestures, inviting the Gryffindor to Morgana's skirt. "Oh by the way Douglas, have you noticed any odd sploches on your body." Ria frowns, delicately unbuttoning the cuff of her shirt to roll up her sleeve and reveal an unsightly splotch of green on her forearm. "Alexander had a couple that's been changing colors like christmas tree lights. Like a cow that gives rainbow milk. I had him go to the infirmary."

Meanwhile, Andromena's package is actually for her! The label bears her name in quite impeccably neat script.

Alphard eyed the blotch on Ria's arm with a quirk of his brow. "Been playing around with the color changing charm?" He asked with a wry little grin. "That little Donnelly girl botched one when she tried to prank Tom." Tom being one of Alphard's Slytherin bullyboys. Not the nicest bloke in the world. "Turned his lips purple.. and everything else that touched it. Not that I inquired exactly how much of him ended on purplse." Snicker.

He actually laughed when Andromena nearly got struck in the head. "Aw. Almots a bull's eye." Though his tease didn't have any of the usual venom and mockery he could produce as easy as breathing.

Vincent arrives from Entry Hall.

Oberon chuckles a little at the exchange between head girl and Douglas before finishing his breakfast. He wipes his mouth with a cloth napkin and pulls back his left sleeve to reveal a strange-looking watch. It has five hands, three moons, seven stars, a sun, and a planet that whizzes about. "Time for me to leave," he says flatly. He swings his foot over the bench and grabs his paper, just in time to smirk after Alphard's taunting.

"I don't know where she's been," Douglas insists solemnly, giving another cheery grin as he shrugs. "Or worse, she doesn't know where I've been." He unbuttons his right cuff, pushing the shirt and jumper up then holding it out for inspection. "Well, it's a bit yellow, I guess. But it'll probably fade. Doesn't hurt or anything, so… yeah. The kid all right?"

Andromena, after setting her book and muffin aside, sketches a courtly bow when Morgana claps. Then, without further ado, she seated herself with the Slytherins. The package is inspected further, as if she cannot decide if she should eat first or give in to curiosity and open it up! "Almost," she says idly in reply to Alphard's half-a-tease. Just then, however, another owl swoops by. This ones aiming is as impeccable as the writing of her first package, as the letter it drops floats ever-so-gently toward its intended recipient (Andromena), to land atop her first bit of mail.

"I must be popular today," claimed in a tone far haughtier than what she'd typically use. Yet when she spies the tiny bit of writing across its surface, Andromena pales. That could be read later. A lot later. Maybe never.

"It's the second one." Morgana says rolling her eyes at Douglas, though checking out his splotchyness, she'll shake her head. "He is especially not coming anywhere near me if he's splotchy. Shouldn't you get that checked?" She asks. Turning back to her house table she'll grab herself a muffin and start picking off pieces from the top of it to nibble on. She doesn't seem to want to linger too long in here today.

With her left sleeve pulled up, Ria holds her arm next to Douglas' and observes with a grimace. "Apologies MacMillan. I'm not quite the potions master, which means I'll have to be doing a little bit more tweaking. I greatly appreciate the help," she says. And in terms of Alexander Dragonfly, "Oh he'll be fine. Kids like colors don't they?" But never mind the splotch, she puts it away by rolling down the crisp fabric. No need to make everyone at the table nauseous. "Worried it's contagious?" Ria smirks to Morgana. But she looks over her shoulder just as Andromena recieves the second letter, and with interest she notes the pale look on the girls face along with the beautifully wrapped brown paper package. Who did that? They must be amazing! "Morning Rowle. Is it your birthday or something?"

Vincent enters the great hall, apparently a little late for breakfast. As he comes in the door, he trips slightly over his shoelaces, which are as usual undone. He stumbles saying "Bloody Laces" and sits with the other slytherin at the house table. He wipes his nose on his robes and says "Morning!"

Alphard rolled his eyes at Vincent's entrance, having caught sight of the firstie tripping. "I worry about the future of our House," he murmured with a dry tone. "Isn't one of your prefect duties to at least make sure our firsties don't fall face flat everytime they try to get to Breakfast?"

But his attentions quickly slid back to Andromena. "You'd think you never got a present before, Meanie," he called out to her playfully.

Oberon's eyebrow raises when he sees Vincent trip. He shakes his head after Alphard speaks, but doesn't linger at the table. Swift strides carry him away from the other students, and towards the entrance hall.

Oberon leaves, heading towards Entry Hall [N].

"Let me know when we're testing again, Sykes," Douglas offers amiably, rolling his sleeve back down and shoving his slightly yellow tinged hands back into his pocket. "Look, anyway, has anyone seen a bag of dead mice anywhere? I'm sure I had them earlier."

Alphard rolled his eyes at Vincent's entrance, having caught sight of the firstie tripping. "I worry about the future of our House," he murmured with a dry tone. "Isn't one of your prefect duties to at least make sure our firsties don't fall face flat everytime they try to get to Breakfast?"

But his attentions quickly slid back to Andromena. "You'd think you never got a present before, Meanie," he called out to her playfully.

"It's Macmillian, who knows where he got it from." Morgana teases before she sets her half eaten muffin down and looks around. "I really should get to class, I have to talk with the Professor before we get started." She says, giving everyone a quick wave before shaking her head at Douglas. "You know, you should keep track of your dead pets better." With that she'll slip back out.

Morgana leaves, heading towards Entry Hall [N].

"No," said faintly. That was last month. Who indeed wrapped that first package? So artfully done! Its corners, so crisp. The little bow, so exquisite. Almost a shame to open it, don't you think? Andromena stuffs the second letter within her robes, her desire to appear nonchalant perhaps a bit botched due to her stiff, wooden motions. Finally she lifts her eyes up from the table to look at Ria, and she twitches her mouth into the barest semblance of a smile.

"Well Alphard," heaved with a dramatic sigh. She had to shake the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had to look normal! "Aside for the obvious occasions, no, I don't typically get presents out of the blue!" Alphard's playful tone actually twisted the knot within her stomach all the worse, but she managed to give him a smile, too. This one more believable than the first. Picking up the package, Andromena held it up. By feel, she could guess what it was.

"I'll get no peace unless I open it, huh?" A useful distraction, or so she hoped. Daintily, the Ravenclaw begins to open up her package. No tearing into things for this little lass. Plucking out the note from within, Andromena reads it with genuine mirth.

Vincent's eyes widened. "Wow! You got a present?" he asked gleefully. "I wish I could get presents."

Ria's wand is drawn upon seeing Vincent stumble by and with a sigh she replies to Alphard, "Yes, well we can't all be winners." A slight flick and Vincent's laces tie themselves into perfect bows, which is how Ria gets her laces looking immaculate all the time. "Bunny ears and then knot them, Goyle," says the prefect, who is surprisingly motherly to her own kind. An apple is then offered to the first-year. "Dead mice … have you tried summoning it?" She suggest to Douglas. When Andromena moves to open the package, Ria's eyes widen and her mouth opens to almost yell 'No!' But by then it's too late, the papers have been opened and from the perspective of a taller student who was standing nearby he suddenly exclaims, "My mum reads that!" And with a giddy smirk, he plucks Andromena's gift from the wrappings to reveal a book - its cover holds the image of a shirtless, be-muscled man, holding an unconcious woman in his arms. It's clear that she passed out in the man's arms due to his riveting sexuality. The title reads in swirly cursive: Magic in the Shire.

Of course Douglas looks. It's the 'nooo' that does it, and piques his interest. He pulls out his wand to try summoning the mice, but pauses when he sees Andromena's present. "Welllll… huh… hey, is that me? Did I pose for that?" Rather than casting the spell to summon his mice, he flicks his wand with a huge grin, the spell ripping the book from the poor Ravenclaw's hand to hover it in the air where everyone can see. "I had no idea, Rowle!"

Vincent loos to his shoes as they tie themselves. "Wow! You have to teach me to do that. I keep getting my bunny ears all mixed up!" he takes the apple and gives it a bite. "Fankoo" he spits back with spittle filled with apple juice.

Alphard looked from the book, to Andromena, to Ria. He obviously hadn't missed the way the girl's eyes had widened with warning. The connections slid into place immediately. He started to laugh.

Yet it was cut short when Douglas got into it. With a sudden frown the dark haired Sixth Year was on his feet, wand in his hand. With a flick he summoned it straight into his hand. "Enough," he told Douglas with a frown. Really, what was the deal with humiliating Andromena? That was Alphard's job, nobody else's. He was looking awefully protective, which wasn't really something you saw from him very often. "Get over yourself, Macmillan. Anyway, I'm done with breakfast. See you all around." With that he pushed himself to his feet, with the book cover turned inside to hide it from view.

Douglas just raises a brow, looking around and shrugging. "I guess maybe it was Black on the cover, after all. My mistake."

Distraction indeed! Before Andromena herself even had a chance to look closely at the book herself it practically disappeared from her hands! Giving a small yelp, the Ravenclaw tucked the note away before turning to face the culprit: Douglas MacMillan. And sweet, sweet Merlin was she blushing. What could she say to that sort of charisma!? Still, the man on the cover did not bear that much resemblance to Douglas. Sure, they were both big muscley hunks but- stop yourself!

"A girl has needs, too," Andromena insists, voice pitched high. (What sort of defense was that, really)? Alphard may have made the connection, but she would do her best to keep Ria in the shadows. She was just about to ask for the book back with Black stepped in. Or bulled in, depending on how you looked at it. Who could miss how he turned the cover inward, though? Dare we say he was doing a good deed?

"Crap," she muttered under her breath, pushing herself to her feet. Muffin forgotten, not even one bite managed, Andromena bid a hasty farewell to both Douglas and Ria- even to little Vincent, who most certainly would never want this sort of present. "Wait for me," said to Black.

Vincent looked round to the others, completely unsure as to what was going on, and munching on his apple. "What's going on? Did you make them angry, or do they just not like you or something?"

Ria's jaw stiffens in horror. Abandon ship! Abandon ship! She too gets up on her feet, covering her red face and nods to Vincent, hastily replying, "Yes, I'd be glad to teach it to you … some other time." Grabbing her textbook and newspaper. Avoids eye contact with MacMillan, throwing Andromena a 'sorry!' look before saying, "Well I've got class. How about you all? I'll catch you folks later." And the tiny girl takes off out of the Great Hall, practically running past Alphard and Andromena.

Douglas glances to the first year, still grinning. "Older kid stuff, half pint. You'll get there eventually." He exhales, wand out again as he waves it hopefully to summon his bag of mice to him. Nothing. "Merlin's fat, hairy ballsack," he swears under his breath, lifting a hand to those still there, and following the girls out. Probably to bare his chest at them and have them pass out. Or something.

"He does have dark hair," Alphard commented idly when Andromena caught up to him. His eyes were on the book cover, his nose wrinkled with a bit of natural derision. Was this really what they expected their men to look like? Alphard was fairly athletic for his age, but by any definition he was still lean. Bulking up was difficult to do when he was also shooting up into the air like a beanstalk. Besides, it had to be exhausting to drag all those muscles along everywhere. The man probably tripped off his feet every two steps. Hmph.

Without a word he passed the book in Andromena's direction. "I might not've had such a high opinion of you if I knew this was what you were spending all your time reading."

Vincent puts his apple core in the middle of the table and gets up. As he heads towards the door he looks round and waves at the others who are still eating. He decided that sitting outside seems like a plan so heads to the courtyard.

"It's not all my time," she snaps, clutching the book to her chest. "You'd…you'd be surprised how engaging they can sometimes be." Not even Andromena would try to fool herself into believing all such books were the pinnacle of literary genius. She tries to hide her wounded expression from Alphard. She did not expect her men to look like, a quick glance to the cover, massive muscled beasts. A lean man suited her tastes just fine. "Thanks for getting it back," said in a pouty little mumble.

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