| Details for A Thumping Good Read |
| Summary: | In which a book is looked at, and belated retribution occurs. |
| Date: | 1939-01-05 |
| Location: | Flourish and Blott's Bookshop, Diagon Alley |
| Related: | Doctors and Aurors The plan for which retribution occured |
| Characters |
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Angus limps in, and flumps down into a chair.
Lucretia turns, one brow raising. "What's wrong?" Dressed in black wool slacks and with a pewter silk shirt that's tucked neatly in at the waist, she looks supremely elegant today. Or at least as elegant as a thirteen year old can look. Tucking hair behind one ear, she closes the books she'd been looking in and holds it to her chest. "Did you fall over?"
Angus gives a grin, "Uh, hit mah feet against the floor." How did he manage that? And why would that make him limp, anyway?
Lucretia lofts one finely arched brow. "And how did you do that? Were you jumping out of a window or something? A tree?" That's about the best guess that she can make on the subject of feet hitting floors and she crosses over to one of the sofas set aside for customer comfort and lowers herself into it. "Don't tell me, you're following in Douglas' footsteps and visiting girls in their bedrooms."
Angus coughs, "Dinnae be soft heeded, Quine!" He pauses, "Ah tried to do whit Jocunda Sykes did, an' ALMOST got it purfect! Just didnae pull up quite fast enough."
Lucretia looks puzzled. "And what did Jocunda Sykes do?"
You say, "Uh, vertical climb, 180 deflect off the roof, an' then vertical dive at full speed, and another 180 just above the floor. Ah goat it right, aside from the Above bit."
Lucretia sits neatly, knees together with the book laid closed on top. She rests her hands on top and looks up at Angus. "That sounds very impressive. I expect that you'll get it right the next time you try it. Was it a private lesson or something?"
Angus beams, "Well, it wasnae sposed tae be. But aye, it turned intae one." He glances down, "Tho' Ah am considerin' a wee trip tae St Mungos."
"Did you break something?" There's a degree of concern in Lu's voice as she allows herself a glance Angus' foot. "If so, you might want to have it looked at before going back on the train tomorrow. Can't be much fun if its hurting enough to make you limp, and don't forget we need to go up and down the length of the train to distribute those notices about the toilets."
Angus says quietly, "Uh, Ah think it's sprained, rather than broken, but it hurrrts like a basta….. very badly." He corrects, remembering the young, innocent, sweet young pure, sweet and innocent Black he's with.
"Maybe just get it strapped up then," Lucretia says, ignoring the near faux pas made by Angus. "By the way, do you think that next time we're out together, you could refrain from inviting a mudblood to join us? Especially if that mudblood is called Evans. I find her irritating to the extreme."
Angus bats innocent eyelids at you, "Och, Lulu, yehs never said!" And, actually, you're pretty sure you did, "Yehs didnae find that annoyin' did yehs?"
"Yes. I did find it annoying," Lucretia says, the tip of one finger tracing the tooling carved into front of the leather-bound book. "Why do you think I left? I know you don't have the same abhorrence of mudbloods as I do, but in those times that we're hanging around together, you just have to follow 'the rules'." By the rules, the precocious young Black so very clearly means 'her rules' and she presses her mouth into a thin line, looking up at Angus through a thick fringe of lashes. "I just really need you to know that. I have standards that I like to maintain."
Angus flashes a grin, "So, whit yehs sayin' is that any time Ah wannae wind yehs up, or get yehs to go awa', Ah just need tae get a Mudblood o'er?" And yes, it looks like he totally did it to tease you.
"Yes. Exactly so," Lucretia says, not coming anywhere close to cracking a smile at the tease. In fact, she seems altogether not the happiest of bunnies today as she slides back into the cushions, curls her feet up under her and opens her book. There's a small shift of her weight as she gets more comfortable and once she's settled he looks back to Angus. "Remind me again why we're friends?"
Angus says cheerfully, "Because yehs fancy the pants owf me, but dinnae wannae say it!" He cracks a grin. "Or cohs of mah good looks and charm? Or cohs Ah have ideas you wannae dae?"
"Concentrate," Lucretia says, a small sigh just slipping into her voice. "I find it close to impossible to understand you when you go all broad highlands on me with your accent."
Angus sniffs, "Yehs were doing sae well!" He clears his throat, and it's a lot lighter, "You always seem tae understand me. You're friends with me cos you fancy the pants off me, and don' wannae say it."
"I don't fancy the pants off you," Lucretia says, frowning. "… and before you suggest it, no, I don't fancy the kilt off you either. Truth is, I find you fun to hang out with and to get up to mischief with, but aside from that I have my studies. You know, I'm sure, how important that those are to me." A pause. "Besides. You have the oddest knees. I could never fancy someone with odd knees."
Angus sniffs, "Nothing wrong with my knees!" He gives you a nudge, "You're fun. That's why I like mucking around wi you, Lulu!"
Lucretia gives a pointed look to Angus' knees, then looks back to her book.
They're in trousers, at least, today. "What are yehs studying, Lulu?"
"Its a copy of Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms," Lucretia says, opening the book at the front. "Its a beautiful copy, don't you think? I'm considering buying it to replace my older copy, that one's terribly scratty now." Turning the front leaf by its top corner, as all well brought up scholars should do, she shows Angus the following page. "It's illuminated beautifully. See?"
Angus frowns, "Is that Ancient Runey stuff? I dinnae do that for mah elective."
Lucretia sighs. "Yes. Its 'that Ancient Runey stuff'. I'm not surprised that you didn't take it if that's how you refer to it. Honestly, my grandfather would probably make you the most kicked-out student from his classes had you done so." Running the tip of her finger down the index, she finds what she's looking for and turns the pages carefully to get the the section she's looking for. "Eibon gave me the most lovely Christmas present, you know."
Angus sniffs, "Aye, well, he's rich, isn't he?" And he grins, "Och, well, they'll remember me as a perfect student, when Ah'm Beater for Scotland!"
Lucretia give a delicate shrug of her shoulders. "Yes. I suppose he is. And when you're a famous beater, perhaps your gift to me will be tickets to come and watch you play?" A generous smile is offered with that, and her head dips again, the girl concentrating a moment on the beautifully inked runes in the book. A beat. "I don't think that anyone will ever accuse you of being the perfect student however. You're not me."
Angus laughs, "Och, I'm better'n you at the Magical Creatures!"
"Yes. But then I didn't take magical creatures as an elective," Lu says, a small tightness to her voice. "I may yet take them up as a third subject, I was going to talk to Professor Slughorn as my Head of House about the possibility. It will mean a lot of extra studytime, but I think I could cope." Which, naturally, would mean less time for Lu to be getting into trouble or cheering on certain quidditch players in their matches.
Angus frowns, pondering the pros and cons. It would, at least, mean an extra chum in class. "It'd be an awful lot o' work. Mind, Muggle Studies isnae hard!"
"I'm not afraid of hard work," Lucretia says to Angus. "I thrive on it. If I decide to take another subject, if, I'll cope perfectly well." The pair are apparently discussing school subjects, Lu getting a little snitty about it.
You say, "Och, Aye! Then Ah'll see yehs in Muggle Studies, then?"
Lucretia shakes her head. "Care of magical creatures. Don't make me hit you, MacMillan."
Angus chuckles a bit. Well, it appears HE thought it was funny. "Would you believe there's TONS of other Ministers, apart from the Minister of Magic?"
Softly, softly. Douglas creeps over to the pair when he spots them, carefully stalking them with the sort of finesse and exaggerated quietness you'd expect of a poacher on the bens. When he finally creeps up behind his brother, he pops up from behind the chair, looping one spotted arm around Angus's neck to force him down into a headlock.
Angus lets out a sudden "OOOOooppppHHH." And swings a punch on general principle, blind, for the crotch of his attacker.
Lucretia squeaks. Catching the lurch for Angus out of the corner of her eye, she's quick to launch herself out of potential harm's way. "MacMillan!" Book hefted in her arms, she rolls to her feet, eyes wide as Angus angles a hit for his brother's groin.
Douglas blocks with a knee, tightening his hold round his brother's neck and yanking it back. "Fuckin' eejit bastid! Fitje think yir playin' at, crashin' Black's pairtie an' leavin' shite aw aiver the place? Fit d'ye call aw these wee plookies. I'm gonnae fuckin' kill yous!"
Angus yells back, "Awa' an' fuck yersel' Duggie! If yes wasnae fuckin' the Quine, yes wouldnae be pluked like th' El'phant mannie!" He's wincing, as he tries to push up with his feet. But he's not given up the struggles yet.
"MacMillan!" Lucretia calls out, her voice a little wobbly, but a clear attempt at authority being made. "It was my idea! I suggested we crash the party and I'm the one that dumped the itching powder in the beds!" Fingers grip the edges of the book, and though her complexion may have paled a little, she stands her ground- albeit several feet away. "Let Angus go!"
Douglas shifts his grip a little, aiming an elbow for his wriggling brother to try to get him to sit still. "Aye, an' fa's the yin huvin' tae explain it awa' to oor folks, eh? Aye! Muggins! Ya wee shite! Yiv ken I'm no s'posed tae be seein' her!"
Angus wriggles out of the armlock, by kicking the back of Douglas' knee, and scrambles to his feet, wincing. One foot isn't quite fully down on the floor, "It was MY idea! Leave Black alone, Duggie! Ah'm th' one yehs want." And he looks over his brother and starts laughing, "Och, and dinnae yehs luk a picture, Duggie!"
Lucretia is a well-bred young thing and she's not going to get into a physical scrap with the two MacMillans. Shoulders square a little and a neat sidestep is taken to the side as the pair encroach on her space. "Merlin's beard! It was just a joke and the dye will wear off in another couple of days! Its not like its permanent. Or lasting!"
Douglas rolls up his sleeves, setting his jaw. "I'll gi' yous a fuckin' picture, wee man. Haein' a jape's the one hin', but yiv fuckit me aiver like a good yin," he spits out, livid. "Dinnae yiv git involvit, Black!" he shoots back towards Lucretia. "This wee shite's got me in mair trouble'n he's fuckin' woruth. Fit d'I say tae mam the noo, eh? Och, aye, I wis fallit intae a pot ae dye? She's no fuckin' daft, Angus! An' if she finds out aboot Malfoy an aw, we're sunkit."
Angus yells back, "Ye daft we bastirt, Duggie! Tell her yes fuckit up yehs potion making. Wouldnae be the furust tyme, wuld it?"
Douglas throws up his hands. "Fit? Oan mah boabie?!"
"Yes. Potion making. Excellent idea," Lu parrots, taking another step away. She's not ever seen Douglas angry, and this is one heck of an angry Douglas right now. "I mean.. who's to say where you got hit by this itch and dye stuff?" That Lu is squinting and grimacing as the two boys fight is probably more down to the fact that she's not entirely certain just what they're saying than anything else. Its hit broad. So broad.
Bursting out laughing probably doesn't help Angus' case, "Yer BOABIE?!?" Okay, yes, certainly laughing, "Why would Mither be seein' yir Boabie? I willnae tellt on yehs, tho' Ah wull if yehs stays a wee bastirt te me! It's only a day or twa yehs need tae control th' scratch."
Nope. Laughing doesn't help matters at all. Douglas bunches a fist and slams it, hard, for Angus's nose. "I'm gonnae fuckin' KILL YOUS!" he yells, expression flickering a second or two after that sickening crunch as blood sprays and he draws his hand back to shake it off. Um. Oops.
And yes, unconscious Angus on the floor.
Lucretia pales. "MacMillan! You've killed him!"
"Ahhh… shit, I hiv…" Douglas breathes, eyes widening as his brother just slumps. "Ah fuck, fit d'we dae?" He looks around quickly, then back to Lucretia. "Fit's ma mam gonnae say?"
Nope. Still unconscious. But looks like he's breathing.
Some of the blood around the nose is bubbling.
Lucretia drops to her knees alongside Angus, the book tossed to one side. "Angus! Angus! Look what you've done, MacMillan! Look what you've DONE!" A press of one hand is given the unconcious boy's shoulder and she's rewarded with a definite groan. "A healer. We need a healer. Get a healer. NOW!"
Lucretia obviously has never been around siblings scrapping like dogs.
"Fuck," Douglas manages, stooping to just sling the boy over his shoulder like a sack of spuds. "Where's St. Mungos? You know the way, Black? Shit…. shit shit shit."
Angus bleeds on his brothers clothes.
Lucretia scrambles to her feet. There's blood on the floor and there's a small group of people gathering around the trio. "Course I bloody do. You.. You.." And she marches out of the store.
Douglas glares at anyone watching. "He tripped. All right? He's ma wee brither."
There was quite a bit of shouting. There is some unconconvinced looks from the bookshop staff.