| Details for Butterflies and Love |
| Summary: | Ilsa and Marcus run into each other, and they talk about tempers, angry butterflies and strangely enough… loneliness and love. |
| Date: | 1939-01-19 |
| Location: | Entry Courtyard, Hogwarts |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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It's not dark yet, but it will be soon and that will bring the first Hogsmeade weekend of the year to an end. Marcus currently leans against of the pillars in the courtyard. He's not the type to smile, but there is a satisfied grin on his face, almost approaching one of those elusive smiles. It's not hard to see that Marcus is in a good mood.
He looks happy.
With a finger he reaches to poke at the snow flurries that fall to the ground all around him. Is he counting them? Perhaps. Or maybe he's just doing it to pass the time.
Ilsa arrives from the general direction of Hogsmeade, her well-kept boots trudging over winter terrain. She is bundled against the chilly evening air and rubs her hands together from warmth. Noting a fellow student lingering nearby, she slows enough to offer a pleasant nod, coming out of her own private reveries long enough to offer a pleasant nod. "Another weekend nearly coming to a close," she remarks wistfully.
"Selwyn," Marcus notes, recognizing the fellow Fifth Year. "Or at least one of the many Selwyns," he smirks at this and upnods in her direction. "Too bad, this was by far one of the best weekends of its kind," he shrugs. "Well, almost one of the best, I guess. So, how was your weekend? Full of candy, flowers and butterflies?" He teases, but there doesn't seem to be malice in his voice. At least not today.
"It was," Ilsa agrees with a steady smile. She peers at him for a moment, tugging at the ends of her scarf. Her smile only grows as she hears his question. "Full of candy, at any rate, and that's good enough for me," she answers. "How about you? What made it one of the best so far?"
He considers for a long moment, before his turns his eyes to Ilsa. He opens his mouth, closes it and then arches a brow. Marcus finally shrugs. "Have you ever been in love, Selwyn?" He asks the question with no hints of any intentions to tease her. It sounds like a sincere question, with no catch.
Of all questions to be asked, this is certainly not one that she expected to hear from someone like Marcus. "In love? I can't say that I have been. At least not yet." She's silent for a moment, appraising him with a thoughtful expression. "Why, Goyle? Is that what made your weekend so pleasant?" she asks curiously, her tone devoid of any judgement or teasing.
Again Marcus studies Ilsa, measuring her up against some invisible weight. Then he flashes her a grin. "Yes, I think it is. It's one of those things. I mean, I'm a jerk. I'm sure you think I'm a jerk. I don't deserve this, and yet, it happened," he shrugs. "And I've never been the happiest in my life," he admits. "It was a little rough on Friday, but, yes." He grows a little concerned as he looks at Ilsa. "I don't do feelings well, Selwyn. I live for the moment. I… I want this moment to last forever." He shakes his head. "I'm sure I'm not making any sense."
"So if it happened for you, there's hope for me yet?" Ilsa remarks, her tone somewhere between humor and relief. "Good for you then, Goyle. It doesn't much matter what I think of you - or anyone else for that matter. If you've found someone who makes you happy and she feels the same, that's something to be celebrated." She pauses to exhale slowly and - is that a wistful look? But it's quickly gone, replaced by a small smile. "I'm probably the last one to ask about feelings and love. But it does make sense, I think."
Marcus snorts. "What are you talking about? You're so sweet it's almost sickening," he tells her. "You should have tons of boys after your skirts," he adds, narrowing his eyes. "Are you making fun of me?" There's a moment of silence. "What was that look Selwyn? Spit it out," he says and then something occurs to him. "Is there a boy you like that's not returning the favor?"
"Not always," Ilsa answers to the contrary. "I have a temper. It's a wonder you haven't seen it yet, really." The Hufflepuff pauses briefly as if to wrack her brain for any memories of outright conflict with Marcus. Nope, none that she can think of directly. Attention returning belatedly to the conversation, she blinks and casts him a look of confusion. "Making fun? Of course not. I really meant it. Even if you don't seem to be the most charming and kind of guys - no offense - I'm sure you have good qualities that someone else sees." What an unintentional backhanded compliment. "A boy? Me? Oh, uh. No, not exactly."
"I'm sure butterflies have tempers too," Marcus muses, with a bit of a shrug. He arches a brow as she continues. "And you're honest, I can't disagree with anything you said, really," he admits. "Although I can be charming when I want to, kind, it's a little harder," he nods to this. "So no offense taken." He arches a brow at her last statement and ahs softly. "Oh, a girl then? It's ok if it's a girl, I'm not one to judge."
"A girl?" It takes Ilsa a moment to understand precisely what meaning Marcus might have taken from her response and when she does realize, she shakes her head swiftly. "Oh! No. I didn't mean that. I just meant… well, I don't even know what I feel yet. How can you be sure you really like someone, or even know them well enough to decide? It seems such a silly, straightforward question, I know. But - I mean, how long did it take you to decide that you really liked this girl? How long until you were certain?"
"That's a loaded question. Truth is, this girl was my best friend for quite some time, before we, well, before we decided we're right for each other," Marcus shares, a bit tentative. Talking about these things doesn't come easy to him. "She accepted me the way I am, Selwyn. She didn't judge me, she would tell me when I did something stupid, but other times, she would join in with me." He says this, with a bit of a grin. "Truth is… I think I've always liked her. But he was with someone else, so I looked somewhere else. Is this boy… someone close to you? Is he with someone?"
Ilsa hmms softly as she listens. If she's trying to recall girls she's seen Marcus with recently, she doesn't show it and remains properly focused on the conversation. A feat for the scatterbrained Selwyn. "It sounds like a good match then. My brother says that's often the best way, letting a friendship grow into something more. You're already accustomed to the other person and accepting of their faults - and willing to be honest with them too, more than you might with a stranger maybe." She rubs her hands together again to regain some semblance of warmth, her cheeks pink with color. "I don't really know. We're not very close - certainly not best friends. I don't even know if he's seeing someone. Really it's more the /idea/ of a boy right now. Even if that probably doesn't make any sense."
Marcus is not a mind reader, but it's not hard to tell what she's probably trying to figure out. "It's Genevieve," he provides the name. Genevieve Solomon and there is a smile that touches his lips, and for a moment he's lost in his own thoughts, before he looks at Ilsa, considering the rest of her words. "As ridiculous as the idea of me giving relationship advice is, I think what you're experiencing is, loneliness, Selwyn." There's a pause. "And that's fine. We all feel that. Even those of us who like to deny it."
"Genevieve. Solomon, right? I don't know her well, but I imagine you two make quite a handsome couple," Ilsa offers diplomatically. As she notes his smile, she grins and points. "That. That is what I hope happens one day. Finding someone who makes me happy just thinking of them." His explanation is met with a moment of silence, her nose wrinkling. "I guess you might be right. It sounds so ridiculous to feel lonely when you're surrounded by good people." Shrugging her shoulders, she tugs once more at her scarf and sneaks a glance toward the school. "It's getting chilly. I supose I should start making my way inside to warm up."
"She's the beautiful one, and then she makes me look good," Marcus smirks at this. "And this Selwyn, this isn't the kind of stuff that you can rush," he warns her, shrugging. "Don't just go running to the first boy that looks at you funny. I mean, you do whatever you want," he adds with his carefree tone. "But… it's not ridiculous to feel lonely, even when surrounded by good people," he simply say, his expression a little more neutral. He looks in the direction of the school and nods. "You do that," there's a lazy salute. "See you later, Selwyn."
"Well, it just feels a little silly, that's all. I'm not exactly the type that most boys go for," Ilsa answers. Not that she would be likely to notice if they did express interest, since such things often escape her. "Thanks for the advice, Goyle. And good for you and Genevieve." She begins to meander off toward the school, her gaze already taking on its far-off dreamy gaze. "See you later!" she calls over her shoulder before disappearing into the building.