(1938-11-27) Breaking the Wizard's Back
Details for Breaking The Wizard's Back
Summary: Julian and Muse, along with Douglas, are in the Louvre overlooking the Aqueduct, when Alphard shows up…
Date: 1938-11-27
Location: Viaduct Louvre - Hogwarts

"That's kind of cold toward Nott, Macmillan," Julian remarks, watching the little owl skirt around… and his head tilts slightly… "… but oddly enough, I kind of see it."

In the meantime, the louvre is getting a little packed. Macmillan, who just arrived, is carrying a dead mouse with him, and is apparently chasing around a little baby owl who's quite cute, but daft… and currently scooting around on the ground. Julian and Musidora? They're over under one of the slants, being cute; his arm is around her waist and she's leaning on him. They seem to be carrying on conversation well enough. Outside, it's kind of windy, and the sun is starting to steadily drop… the air cool as it blows.

Douglas hunches down on the ground, tugging the dead mouse in front of him along the ground, twitching it to try to get the owl's interest. "Like a…" he pauses, trying to take Musidora's advice, and half hoots, half trills at the bird. "Daaaaphne…. come on, girl."

It took Alphard a good few steps into the louvre before he realized that it wasn't the secluded sanctuary he had expected to find. Bent over, he was still in the posture of someone trying to shield himself from the harassment of some darn unfriendly weather. His uniform robes were snug tight as tight could be around him. With a huff, he swept his windblown hair out of his forhead, then shook the rest of him free of the chill. The robes came open, but not off. He was cradling a leather bound little notebook under his arm.

"Macmillan. They didn't take your owlets away from you yet? Where's Horace gotten to?" As for the two being cute under one of the slants? Alphard's eyes didn't miss them, but settled for just a faint wrinkle of his nose in disgust.

As Douglas tries to take Musidora's advice on the sound, Julian's lips purse, though there is a smile hidden in there as he watches the older Gryffindor try to do his thing with the owl. "If she's as daft as you said, like Nott… You may be in for a lost cause, mate."

However, there's a noise at the staircase… and as he looks toward it, and he spots the boy coming up… Jules' arm tightens around Muse again, and he clears his throat a little bit.

Since Black is going to take the low road and acknowledge his existence - let alone Muse's - with nothing more than a disgusted look, he clears his throat again. "Wotcher, Black," he greets the boy… watching him carefully. He notes the notebook, but he says nothing about it.

"I just want to get her back to her perch," Douglas explains, reaching out to the owl. Daphne ignores the mouse, and pecks at Douglas's trailing robe instead, but it's enough he can scoof her up, smoothing down her feathers with a finger. "She's always a bit confused when she's just woken up. Horace is right as rain, but Daphne and Gertie… well, bless them, they'll make good pets. Not post owls, though. Black," he greets with a nod. "They wouldn't dare."

For her part, Musidora feels the tense and just slants a glance at Julian, before blue eyes sift through the others. She tilts her face up and cants her head just so, almost like an owl might, and seems to be studying the potential situation. Apparently the dismissal hadn't bothered her in the slightest, and the young witch she feels no need to add to Julian's greeting.

"Daft birds for daft kids, eh?" Alphard asked of Douglas with a bent little grin. He was pointedly ignoring all the clearing of Julian's voice, though it got difficult once there was an actual greeting out there. With an exasperated sigh he turned his gaze on Julian and Musidora again. "Well.. I suppose there's never any short supply of those." It didn't take a genius to pick out who he was talking about, there.

"Edwards. Lovegood. Nothing much at all. Thought I'd spend a couple of hours writing." To emphasize, he lifted up his notebook and shook it a little, before letting his arm fall back down. "In privacy. Forgot this sometimes ends up being snog central. And.. I guess owl central too, now. How's Horace, anyway, Macmillan? Everything turned out right?" There was a bit of genuine concern in his voice, too!

"He was a bit off for a day, but he seems right as rain now," Douglas replies amiably, moving towards the stairs. "Off his food for a bit, but I blame that on you spoiling him. He'll want nothing but gold mice from now on. Drop by before curfew if you like," he suggests. "See if Horace has forgiven you."

There's a small crinkle of Julian's nose as he watches Alphard, his eyebrows lifting slightly as he nods slowly….

"Well, Musidora and I were up here talkin'," Julian remarks lightly, watching him still. For Muse's sake, yes. He's trying to remain civil… but it was a little hard. As Douglas cuts out, he raises a free hand to wave toward the older boy. "Later, Macmillan," he calls after him, before looking back toward Alphard. He makes no immediate move to get up.

"… Never a short supply of what, exactly?" he asks idly, tilting his head a little bit.

There's a low chuckle from Muse as she merely half-lifts a hand in acknowledgement as she /does/ make a move to get up, hauling herself off the floor with a drop of her hands to dust off her robes. Still not bovvered. "It /is/ getting a bit crowded in here isn't it? Just as well. My legs are getting stiff so it may be time to head back," she comments as if Julian hadn't questioned Alphard at all.

Alphard had given Douglas a companionable wave when the Gryffindor left, apparently getting fairly well along with him despite his House affiliation. Perhaps something to do with the Magijugend pendants both of them wore. "I'll do that." Regarding visiting the little owlet named Horace. Then Douglas was gone, and he was left alone with Julian and Musidora.

For a moment he glanced back over his shoulder as if considering whether he was going to just leave himself. Then his natural arrogance and sense of entitlement won over. He wasn't going anywhere, certainly not for the likes of these two! So he strode over to one of the windows, heaving himself up so he could perch in the window sill with lazy nonchalance. His robes drooped down the side of the wall, while his notebook spilled open on his knee.

"Sure. You were just talking. And oh. You know. Never a short supply of daft children. For the daft birds who can't make it as anything but pets."

Looking toward Muse, Julian furrows his eyebrows a little, but he doesn't say anything immediately. Instead, he begins to stand up, as well, dusting his robes off quietly.

As he had helped himself up, he had been listening to Alphard. As he finishes speaking… Julian breathes in, his cheeks darkening slightly, eyes narrowing as he looks toward the other boy. Anger's boiling up.

Really, it's no wonder the Sorting Hat had a time sorting Jules; for all of that intelligence and common sense, he really had a temper.

"You can insult me all day, each day, and everyday, Black. But y'leave her outta it."

Trying to let some of the flush move out of his face, Jules turns to face toward Alphard, and he frowns, watching him. "You've got a problem with me, an' I've got a problem with you. That's one thing." He breathes in. "I don't care how entitled you feel to it, though. Leave her outta it."

A pause, and he watches him. "I don't listen to rumors often, either. But if you're th' one that did all that to Hart?…"

Fingers flex. His hands aren't in his pocket, however… "Just…"

Oh, how he wants to.

Being nice merely to be liked in return nullifies the point. Musidora is almost always calm and polite and this time is no different, though the normally serene tone carries an underlying bite. She addresses neither of them. "The ego is a fascinating monster. You never really learn much from hearing yourself speak." She holds her hand out to Julian, fully intending to drag him with her if she has to.

And he knows first hand how strong she is.

"Did I say I was talking about you and your little lovebird?" Of course Alphard's mocking tone; his sly smirk; his laughing eyes, all of it made it clear that Julian and Musidora were exactly the 'daft kids' h e had in mind. He didn't move at all from where he was seated by the window, but his hands came together with faux casualness against his knee. It was no big secret that he kept his want sheathed up his sleeve. His eyes slipped away from Julian to follow Musidora instead, a predatory glint in them. "Though.. I suppose it would be terribly wrong of me to ignore her completely, wouldn't it?"

"Mhmm. And what if I did, Edwards? What would you do about it? Would you write another petition?" His laughter was cruelly bemused. "I'm sooooo worried. Besides, didn't you know? He apologized to me the other day. With tearful wet eyes. Like a little girl."

Alphard looked insufferably smug about having made Gage apologize to him.

Muse's hand would get Jules' right, but the left remains free. As he listens to Alphard, he remains rather cemented… the grip on her hand tightening, though not painfully so.

There's a quiet breath, and Julian frowns. "Give me a reason, Black." His left hand was twitching… his wrist pulling into the arm of his robe slightly.

"Give me a reason and I'll cure you of all those ill, smug looks of yours."

His hand doesn't let go of Musidora's…

Musidora's flash a cold, flinty gray as she catches Alphard's look but the witch isn't about to get into a duel over words, drawing in an easy breath. Her grip on Julian's hand tightens perceptively as she gives her companion a slow smile. "I have an aversion to plummeting to my death, dearest." To Alphard, she inclines her head almost regally, now wearing an actual smirk, "always an experience." And she moves to leave.

"Sure, Edwards, you need a reason.." Alphard scoffed. "Why don't you just do like your girlfriend wants, and slink on off before you make an even greater fool of yourself. You're all words, anyway. Is that a trait you draw from your Muggle father?" He tapped the side of his cheek thoughtfully. "You know, I was thinking the other day that there's bound to be a few concerned wizards who might want a talk to that chap after your little petition. To set him straight on how wizards are brought up. Give him some.. good and friendly advice. Perhaps someone should help them by writing his name in.. what's that place in Knockturn Alley?"

With a yawn he gave Musidora a nod and an equally regal smirk. "Ta-ta, Lovegood."

"Julian." There's a faint tremble in Muse's hand where they're connected but her grip doesn't slacken. "Not today." Please.

The grip tightens almost instinctively.

And out of Julian's left robe sleeve falls his wand, which he catches by the handle. He doesn't point it, though; instead, it remains in his hand… the blue hairtie that's tied around it visible. "All talk, am I?"

There's a visible quaking in Julian's form, and the grip on his wand tightens. "S'it. I'm going to shut you up. I'm callin' you out. Saturday. Out past the village, since it's a Hogsmeade Weekend. Bring yourself a Second, if anyone wants to stand behind your bigoted arse. No Dueling Club Rules, either."

His eyes narrow, and Julian watches him.

"How very dramatic," Alphard said with a smirk. "But you know it's against school rules to duel outside of the duelling stage, or without a prefect or a faculty member present." His brows furrowed with faux puzzlement. "Are you advocating breaking the rules? Besides…" He uncoiled from where he had been sitting, his lean frame spilling back down onto the floor and his book vanished. All pretense was gone from his body language, and his porcelain fine features were drawn in a cool and inhuman mask of contempt. "How do I know you and your little do-gooders crew aren't simply going to rat me out? With the bunch of pathetic cry babies you surround yourself with, I'd be shocked if they didn't rush to squeal the moment I laid you down."

Muse? She just turns her eyes up as if looking for an answer or another drop of patience. But she also doesn't move from Julian's side, back ramrod straight. "So follow the rules and /use/ the bloody stage," she says calmly, "and then this can be over."

"As if you're a bluddy foreigner to breaking school rules, Black."

Julian stares the boy down, and he doesn't back off, either. "Either show up, or don't. Four PM. Past the village on the far side that leads toward t'farms. Myself an' my Second'll be waiting," he emphasizes, "and no one else."

There's a pause, and his eyes narrow quietly. "You've insulted me," he remarks, beginning to count down… "You've insulted people I love," family and present company included, "and you've insulted and assaulted my friends. If no one else is going to stand up to you? May as well be me. And you're so intent on putting me in my place, I'm sure. You really think you can do that with a Prefect or the rest of the Dueling Club watching? T'do what you really want to do?"

He narrows his eyes… and they cut toward Muse for a moment… but he says nothing. "Show up or don't, Black." Back to him, and he slips his wand back into his sleeve, turning to leave… His hand death-gripping on Muse's, but not so tight that it's painful.

"Well.. when you put it like that.. How can refuse such a lovely invitation?" Alphard asked with a slow smile spreading across his lips. The mildness of his tone had nothing at all to do with the deadly serious malice glowing in his eyes. "Don't you worry, Edwards. I'll be there. Just make sure that you.. and your 'love' here don't go blabbing about it to the whole bloody school."

He filled his chest with a long and deep breath, then slowly exhaled. There was a glow of contentment about it. As if he had just gotten exactly what he had wanted.

"I'll enjoy the look on your face when you realize just who you challanged, Edwards. You're an idiot. You should've stuck to duelling in the Club."

"Sorted?" Muse chirps almost too sweetly, looking between the two of them, her face an unreadable mask. "Sorted." With a final warning tug on Julian's hand she attempts … again … to leave.

"I'm not gonna give y'the satisfaction of any kind o'look, Black. And you keep your mouth shut, too." Julian remarks softly. "You, an' your second. Saturday."

The tug, this time, is not ignored, and Julian turns, leaving with the other Ravenclaw. She could probably feel him quaking still.

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