(1938-12-03) Etiquette
Details for Etiquette
Summary: Medusa and Gerald discuss party etiquette then she meets up with Augustin and they discuss gift giving etiquette.
Date: 3 December 1938
Location: Quidditch Pitch
Related: For the portion with Gus: Hot Chocolate

Adjusting her jumper, Medusa appears from beneath the Hufflepuff stands at ground level. She drags her hand through her messy hair, trying to make it look a little less messy. As she heads towards the lone walking figure another dark haired Gryffindor boy also appears from beneath the same stands, but he turns and heads the other way.

It can't be helped. Gerald grin is snarky and even a little bit smug as he nears the girl from way of the Gryffindor stands, his hands shoved into his pockets as he moves. "Hufflepuff? Really? There's three much less prissy houses you could have picked but you picked Hufflepuff?!" He laughs, his eyes narrowing toward the departing 'doppelganger' though the redressing blonde keeps his attention. "So, my turn now?" These moods happen. He's 16.

Medusa shrugs a shoulder, not the least bit reticent over being caught out by Gerald. "The Ravenclaws are a bit pissy lately so we figured we'd branch out." When she reaches his side she slips an arm through his. "It even smells of cake under there," she delivers the snide comment about the house of Helga completely deadpan. "No Sunny around to cheer you up?"

Gerald chuckles, his arm wrapping around her to give her a small squeeze. "She's working on…" clearly his memory fails him as his face grows blank. "Something.." Yup. Sixteen indeed. "I forget, but I'm sure it was important. Just not /interesting/, so here I am." She gets a grin, one lazy enough to reveal a less than grumpy mood this afternoon. A change at the very least. "And now the aggravation of keeping me entertained falls upon your all to dainty shoulders. So what, my beautiful and diabolical friend, are we going to do? And please don't say we're going to cuddle with your owlet, because…" yeah, she shivers.

"Horace is wonderful, but I did notice you aren't a fan." Medusa steers Gerald towards the exit and begins a slow amble with him. "Snogging is out of the question. Soliel has access to my bed while I sleep. Not to mention I prefer the real Macmillan." Although she has mentioned it. "We could dump the vinegar barrels in the kitchen passageway or we could go to the astronomy tower and re-calibrate the telescope to spy on the village."

"You're no fun." He teases dryly, but he does send her a grin a few seconds later. "But you're right. She can be kinda frightening when she's mad. And she's cleaver, probably best not to even pretend to be ready to deal with that." He's teasing of course, though he's quickly distracted by her ideas, and even offers a faint nod. "So long as we don't get caught. You have no idea how mad she gets when I 'embarrass' her by acting out..which I find peculiar since I don't really get in trouble." He puzzles with that a moment before shrugging. "She's all about public face, which is fine and good when you're not going stir-crazy. Which I am. I completely spaced on the weekend. I remember nothing, which means I had a boring ass time."

Talk of the weekend has Medusa looking away lest he spot her very red face. She was known to have been walking funny yesterday although nobody seemed to know the reason why. "There is another, an extra Hogsmeade weekend this weekend. We will make sure you don't have a boring ass time." Looking back at him Medusa says, "Also, you will get an invitation to Alphard's Christmas soiree in London. Soliel too. That's something to look forward to. You can join me in being sarcastic to the overly energetic Genevieve Solomon." She grins at Gerald and pecks his cheek. "I do love it when we can be bitches together."

Mention of Genevieve causes a rather wide-eyed eye-roll from Gerald. "Genevieve…" just the way he speaks her name causes his skin to itch and a rather visible physical response. "She's….I think maybe she's the reason I blocked out my weekend." He frowns, but he also shrugs. "What has she got to do with things? Please don't tell me Alphard has moved on to her.."(re)

"Alphard is a rather loyal creature if he is nothing else. Solomon is on the house team so he feels a kinship with her, despite her being a dipshite." Medusa sees something shimmery in the grass and leans over to pick it up. "A knut for your thoughts?" She grins and holds the coin out to Gerald. "Alphard has asked Solomon to serve up the drinks. Her mum is a drunkard or something, she has experience doing these things at Arrows parties."

Gerald laughs, reaching to try a teasingly snatch up the coin from the blond. "Drinks better served to others." He laughs, "I can pull off the party with Sunny, but no drinking anything more than pumpkin juice for me." Always the assumption for Gerald. Such is the problem with having such a free-thinking family. "I'm an absolutely horrible drunk." He then adds with a grin. "Actually you'd love it. I turn into Alphard." In other words, he's mean.

Medusa pulls the coin away at the last minute and drops it down her top with a smug grin. "Be sober then, there is no rule that says you must imbibe." She bumps him lightly with her hip as they walk slowly towards the edge of the pitch. "I love you as you are, Ger. One Alphard is enough for all of us. Thankfully he is as unique as the snowflake his mother always told him he was."

Gerald laughs, though there is a moment when he looks like he may go after the coin. Alas, he was raised well, and he leaves it where it lands. "Awe, you'll make me blush." He chuckles to her, accepting the hip-bump. Still, true to his nature he does quiet down. "So you're good then?"

"I'm good in all the ways I can be, yes. And in the ways I can't…well only time will reveal what happens there." Medusa pauses and looks at the sixth year. "Are you good? Still planning on chinning Augustin?"

Medusa and Gerald, the Douglas Macmillan doppelganger, are walking slowly across the pitch, arm in arm as they contemplate life's greater mysteries. Suddenly one of Gerald's relatives comes up to them and calls the boy over to have a quiet word. Pure-bloods, cousins everywhere…what can you do? Leaving them to it, knowing full well there are issues within the Merrythought-Cornfoot contingency, Medusa continues to stroll on at a leisurely pace on her own. She breathes in deep of the cold wintry Scottish air and tugs on the Gryffindor coloured knit hat she had dangling from her pocket. It isn't dark yet, but it will be soon thanks to the shorter winter days.

"Meduuuuuusaaaaa!" comes a call from far off. If she bothers to look in the direction of her name, she'll see Gus jogging toward her, the tip of his knit hat bobbing with every stride. When he finally catches up to her, his cheeks are pink from both the cold and the exertion. "Finally… got it… back…" he gasps, tugging something silver from his pocket with his good hand and passing it over to her. "Do not ask what it took," he warns, huffing a bit more from all the exercise.

When she spots Gus, Medusa raises a hand and waves to him. "Thank you," she says taking the flask from him. "It was a gift from my father back before he stopped being proud of me." She turns the embossed silver flask over in her hands and tucks it away into a coat pocket. "I appreciate it, truly I do. I will wash your father's and return it to you tomorrow." Reaching up she flicks the bobble on his hat. "How did your date go?"

"You're welcome," Gus says, sighing a little bit as his breath gets back to normal. He snickers and backs off from her bobble-flicking, adjusts his scarf, and falls into step next to her while she wanders. "It went well, I think," he answers. "We met, we ate, we drank hot chocolate, we had nice conversation. Then we walked back together." He smiles.

"Good!" Medusa even gives the Hufflepuff an encouraging fist to the shoulder, nothing painful just jovial. "Did you feel more relaxed? I'd like to think I helped a little, even if I had already lost the bet well before your date." It seems whatever aid the Malfoy has been offering has been out of the goodness of her heart rather than to win a prize.

Gus blinks. "I thought the bet was to see me or Myrus kiss a girl by the Christmas feast?" he asks. "Are you telling me that Myrus Lowe has already kissed a girl? Seriously?"

Medusa pulls a face and nods then looks around and whispers, "But keep it quiet please. I promised I would keep their secret for them. I had to tell Douglas because it was the bet. It wouldn't have been sportsman like of me to lie to him, and I pride myself on being a good girlfriend too."

"Who's the girl?" Gus asks, both slightly miffed and a bit curious. He nods at her request, easily accepting it.

"That's part of the secret. I expect it will be out soon enough, but I keep my word." Medusa tugs her hat down more firmly as the wind picks up. "It isn't Eibhlin or Lillian, I can say that much." She grins at Augustin. "There is an extra Hogsmeade weekend this coming weekend. Perhaps you can have a second date?"

Gus gives Medusa a startled look. "Of course it's not Eibhlin," he says. Of Lillian he makes no comment. He nods at the idea of a second date. "Yeah, I think I'll ask her," he says. "Rosie's Cafe again?" he wonders, sliding her a look. "Or somewhere new?"

Medusa considers his question. "Somewhere new might be nice. I think Puddifoots is a bit over the top, what with all the hideous chintz and lace. Maybe the candy shoppe? You can buy her something small - or better yet you can share one of those malt drinks. The kind that comes with two straws." The more she thinks on this the better it sounds. "And it would only be fair for you to pay for that seeing as you are a big boy and will likely drink more. That way Evie won't feel poor." She beams up at Gus.

Gus nods thoughtfully. "Yeah, alright. Share a malt. That sounds… nice…" his eyes glaze over — perhaps he's imagining her face so close to his. "I'd pay for everything, if she'd let me," he tells her. "I think it makes her uncomfortable, though." He sighs. "When do you suppose it'd be alright for me to kiss her, again?"

"It does make her a little uncomfortable, but that has nothing to do with you Augustin. It is more about Evie having come from a family with no money. She isn't used to wealth." Medusa is getting good at this advice thing. "Second dates are usually when a first kiss is acceptable. Ask her permission, that's a good way to do it. Be honest but not too honest. Tell her that you respect her and would like to kiss her, if she is alright with that. Then ease into it. No tongue, not at first."

Gus nods. "Well, my family isn't rolling in it like yours," he says. "But we do well enough." He looks thoughtful, and can't stop the grin at her advice on kissing. "I will," he promises. "Should I be thinking about getting her a gift for the holiday?" he asks.

Talk of money seems to hold no interest for her, for Medusa just nods and then says, "I would ask her if she would mind if you gave her a gift. Because she will want to reciprocate. Perhaps you can set boundaries? Ask her if she minds if you make one another gifts rather than spend money? Evie is a very talented young woman. She could easily make you something."

"I know what she's making you," Gus says with a grin. "Or at least, what she told me. Not that I've seen it. And not that I'll tell."

Medusa blinks, clearly surprised by the idea of Eibhlin giving her a gift. She even blushes a little. "I shan't ask in any case. That is very kind of her. I have a list of people go find gifts for, but I am trying to do things differently this year and make it more personal."

"She's a very kind girl," Gus says with a firm nod. "A nice girl. Not the most forthcoming girl," he chuckles. "But worth it, when she does open up." And no, he's not using any innuendos, actually. "What do you think you'll give her?" he asks curiously.

Medusa nods faintly, her thoughts more on gifts than what he is saying. "Hmmm, yes she is lovely." Her eyes blink owlishly. "I don't know. I might make her something. Perfume perhaps. Beery asked us to prune a lot of the plants before the holidays."

Gus frowns. "Damn," he says. "Perfume is a great gift idea. Now I have to think of something different." He pouts a little while he thinks.

"Hand cream? I made my sister some special cream for her birthday." She nudges Gus lightly with her elbow, "You should do a drawing for Evie. A drawing of Ireland. There are bound to be books in the library with photographs or lithographs of paintings. I bet she feels homesick for her farm." Medusa nods a little, "That would be a really thoughtful gift and only cost you time and art supplies, of which I know you must get tons for Christmas."

"Eh, I don't know," Gus says, tugging his hat down a bit more firmly around his ears. "The last time I Gave her a drawing wasn't… so great…" He thinks. "I don't even know if she liked it. It was attached to an apology." He winces and continues. "And the time before that I gave her a little carving I made, also with an apology. Maybe this time I should get her something else." He considers the hand cream idea.

"This time it won't be because you did something stupid. It will be to show her some appreciation and also that you listen." Or that he listens to Medusa who listens to Eibhlin. Same thing. Sort of. "But ultimately it has to be a gift you feel comfortable giving her and she receiving."

"Well, I — I don't trust my intuition any more," Gus says a bit glumly. "Obviously, it's unreliable. I'd like to buy her something nice. But what it it's too nice and makes her uncomfortable? Or what if it's something she doesn't like? For instance, I could get her a pretty little charm bracelet, but is that too expensive? Would she even want to wear it? Is it 'too much,' as she'd say? So what's not too much? Flowers? Seems too simple, to me. Hair ribbons? Where would I even begin? Ugh!" He throws his good hand into the air. "Girls are very hard to get gifts for, apparently," he says. "No wonder my mothe… never mind."

With a little laugh Medusa gently clips him upside the head. "Calm down, Rousseau!" She grins and shakes her head at him. "First establish whether or not she would let you give her a gift. Then we can worry about what. No need to get your knickers in a twist if she'd prefer you didn't."

Gus doesn't duck the slap in time, but it doesn't hurt, either. Still, he squawks in indignation. "Oi!" Readjusting his cap, he sighs. "Yeah, I'll ask her," he says. "What are going going to get Douglas?"

"I got him that sharkskin wand sheath we talked about before. And then sort of as a joke, a stuffed owl. He told me how his father still sees him as a twelve year old, going to bed with a stuffed owl." Medusa slips her hands into the pockets of her coat. "He says he doesn't have anything for me yet, but I'm not worried. Douglas has always been good to me. He looks after me."
Augustin gives you a cookie.

"Well, of course he does, he loves you," Gus says in a off-hand sort of way. He walks on a few steps.

"C'mon, it's nearly dinner. Let's get in." Medusa takes his arm and starts to lead Augustin in.

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