(1939-01-19) Forgotten Hogsmeade Adventures
Details for Forgotten Hogsmeade Adventures
Summary: Ilsa stumbles upon a disheveled Dryden, who can't quite recall how he spent his evening in Hogsmeade. Leoric speaks up and the trio talk of devotion to their siblings.
Date: January 19, 1939
Location: Hufflepuff Common Room

Outside the snow has knocked off, leaving the afternoon still and cool, and remarkably silent for a school that plays home to hundreds of students. Hogsmeade weekends tend to do that. But there's always one or two students who linger behind. Studious students, focused on their future and their marks. Students with to much to do or to much drive and ambition to waste their time among the butter beer guzzling masses and the sweet consuming flocks. And then there are the ones that got to Hogsmeade /too/ quickly and had /too/ much fun. Those students, read Dryden, can be found facedown on one of the plush sofas. It looks like whoever brought him back was nice enough to get him a pillow and a blanket, though the pillow is under his feet and the blanket was dropped in a pile over his head. It's remarkable really..how nice teenage boys are to one another.

Dryden is not the only Hufflepuff student to remain here at Hogwarts despite the ability to be out exploring and merry-making. Ilsa makes her way out of the girl's dormitory, rubbing her eyes tiredly and combing her fingers through a mass of tangled curls. Lifting a fist to her mouth, she stifles a yawn and slows only when she spots the lump on teh couch. "Eibon? You alright there?"

"Noooo." Dryden's at least honest. To hell with masculinity for the moment. "Bad choices. Very bad choices." But he sits up none the less, a small yawn and a cringes breaking the otherwise stillness of the boy. He also sends her a glance, pausing more a moment as she shuffles through names, coming up empty. No worries, his attention is slowly pulled away to a new sight as his hand moves up, running through his hair..which is wet. As are his cloths..even his shoes, which earn a small blink before he lifts his gaze back toward her. "I have no idea why I'm wet either..before you ask. And yes..I'm concerned." And amused judging by the grin, "Did /you/ have fun this weekend?" because theres only /one more day/!!!!

Ilsa ducks her head, a veil of hair falling in front of her face to hide an amused grin. "Bad choices that made for an entertaining evening at least?" she asks once she has glanced back toward him. She settles gracefully into a nearby chair, draping her legs over the arm as she studies the other Hufflepuff. Laughing at the revelation that he is dripping wet, she shakes her head. "Your night was a little too entertaining maybe. I'm incredibly curious, but since you have no memory of it, I won't ask. And yes! I had great fun. Hogsmeade weekends are always something to look forward to.

Dryden nods slowly, though his revelations aren't done yet. He reaches to smooth out his shirt, only to blink again, "My cloths are inside outbloody hell.." even his pants. In short, it WAS adventuroushe supposes. He at least offers Ilsa a sigh and a weak smile, "I remember a little. I remember getting back to Hogwarts and being devastated when I realized that the staircase moves." He pauses, "Then I remember being devastated when I remembered that I didn't need to go up it, when I was halfway to wherever I was going." His shoulders slump, but he does offer her a small grin, "So I suppose the night was a win. I'm just hoping that I'm not going to end up regretting it." Beat, "I'd be upset if I didn't get to do it again tonight." This is his hoping he's not caught. "Do you have plans yet?"

Ilsa laughs, shaking her head in answer. "I do hope you at least remember who you were with when your evening started. Maybe your friends can provide some clues as to what exactly happened. Hard to say whether it's a blessing or a shame that you can't remember it," she remarks with a crooked grin. "You're brave if you arrived here in this state and plan to do it all over again tonight. I don't know exactly what I'll be doing, but I have every intention of going back to Hogsmeade. As you said, it's the last night and we might as well make the most of our time!"

Dryden nods sagely. "I'll be asking. I .. dunno. I don't guess it's that important. I don't know if I want to know why my cloths are inside out." He jokes, standing and giving his back a small pop. "You're a fifth yeah, aren't you Selwyn?" He asks idly, watching her for a moment, "You're Dora's cousin, yeah?"

"Maybe better not to know. The answers might ruin your thoughts about Hogsmeade weekends," Ilsa jokes. She absentmindedly brushes a piece of lint from her shirt, then glances back to Dryden. "A fifth year," she confirms. "Two years behind you, right? And yes, I'm Dora's cousin. Hey, watch out for her, would you? She's a gentle spirit and sometimes I worry about her."

"Gentle?" Dryden chuckles the word out, "That's a very nice way to say it." Nave is the word he would have chosen. "I'm sure there's a line of guys willing to watch out for her. Guys much more astute than myself." He takes a moment to fold the blanket, dropping it onto the couch before sitting again. He also peels the wet shirt off, eyeing it curiously before wringing it out with a equally curious gaze. He even smells it, and looks pleasantly pleased when it doesn't stink. "Maybe I fell in the lake again?" he wonders. Though he doesn't dwell on it. He also doesn't see the smeared but still readable 'I was here' written across his belly in red lipstick. Not yet anyway. It's on his back too. Just for fun.

"Again?" Ilsa echoes with a faintly incredulous tone. "That doesn't sound pleasant, as cold as it is outside." She purses her lips together in an attempt to hold back the laughter that threatens as soon as she notes the lipstick message scrawled across his torso. "No, you certainly weren't alone last night," she remarks teasingly. "As for Dora and the many guys happy watch out for her… that's partly what I'm afraid of!"

Dryden blinks curiously toward the brunette before his eyes lower toward a hand, which is covered in pink, only to lead his eyes toward his belly. He barks a small laugh at the sight, though he does use the shirt to try and rub it off. It results in a splotchy pink, much bigger mess. He also sends her a small grin, "You just saw me wake up and you think /I'm/ a better element to introduce her to than some pervy sixth year?" Is he speaking of a specific guy? Possibly, but the scott sturns his attention back on Ilsa. "But what about you? You don't have some strappin boy doing handstands to impress you?" beat, "Which, is exactly how I ended up in the lake last year. Bit of a history lessen there."

Lowering her gaze, Ilsa bites back another laugh. "Now whose writing is that? Can you tell from that angle?" she asks, adopting a serious tone although she's clearly joking. She wrinkles her nose, leaning back in the chair and shifting to get comfortable. "Well… I didn't say express an interest in her. I just said watch out for her! But you're probably right. I'll continue relying on my cousins instead. We'll all stick together and watch out for each other." Family loyalty at its finest. "Boys trying to impress me? Ha, no. Someone I don't think I'm the type of girl most guys go for." It might be that, but it might also be that Ilsa is simply somewhat naive and a bit ignorant to when someone /is/ expressing interest.

Dryden grins, "No promises. Dora's pretty hot." He sends her a wink, probably a sign that he's teasing, though he does lower his eyes to look at the messy pink smear over his belly. It causes a new grin, a silent one for the moment before he sighs, "And why would you say that? You're pretty..for a fifth year." He's sure to throw that in there. "And ya know, for a pureblood." The last parties also a joke, even laughs as he speaks. "Don't count yourself out."

Ilsa is settled into a chair, talking with Dryden - who is looking mightily disheveled. Leaning forward in her chair to eye Dryden, Ilsa casts him a warning look. "She's also very sweet and kind and vulnerable. If you ever hurt her, you're going to have a problem," she remarks and although the words are softened by a lighthearted tone, it's clear she really would defend her cousin with every fiber of her being. She leans back in the chair, legs draped back over the side again. "But I know you already know that." His last words draw a surprised look, the fifth year momentarily rendered mute. "Well… I don't know. I guess we'll just wait and see."

"Problem doesn't even begin to cover it." Leoric had a habit of sitting in utter quiet, absorbed in a book and unconcerned with moving. He'd appropriated a chair in the corner, and only bothered to speak up now. He hadn't quite been tuned in until now, but he did latch onto a familiar litany regarding his sister and added to it casually. This is less a lighthearted, steely threat and more someone so used to expressing the thought that it's merely a statement of fact. A page turns, as he's not involved in the conversation enough just yet to have picked up anything besides that comment.

Dryden laughs, perhaps at the threat, or the whole thing in general. "I don't hurt people." He allows with an almost teasing tone, he even waves a hand a moment later, indicating her person, "Does /this/ look like the type of guy that hurts people?" Soaking wet, clothing turned inside out and covered in … Okay the lipstick is possibly the wrong impression, this much dawns on him rather quickly. "Oh..well..this never happens." He adds quickly as he motions to the lipstick. "This is a drunken fluke. Believe me. I'd like it here a lot more if this was a common occurrence." Leoric gets a glance as well as he chimes in, though Dryden merely returns his words with an eye-roll. "Sob off. I have a little sister. And morals." Much to his chagrin.

Ilsa arches a brow, casting Dryden a pointed look - her eyes momentarily affixed to his lipstick-smeared middle before shifting away. "Drunken flukes aren't exactly ringing endorsements of someone's innocence," she proclaims wryly. "Though I'll admit that this is the first time I've stumbled across you looking quite like this." She swivels in the chair, attention shifting to her cousin as she belatedly recognizes his presence. "Oh, Leoric! Didn't see you there. Enjoying your Hogsmeade weekend?" Tucking her feet beneath her, she settles her hands in her lap. "It seems we all have little sisters and understand exactly what it is to be the protective older siblings, so I'm sure there will be no trouble."

"I don't have a little sister. I have an older sister who's hurt by surprising things. It doesn't matter if you mean to hurt her, the point is that you need to mean to not hurt her. And there is a stark difference." Pageturn. Leoric finally looks up when Ilsa looks his way with a question. She gets a small smile. "More or less, I suppose. I've spent most of it trying to puzzle out how to keep various siblings from various types of calamity." Eyes back to the book. "Anyway. Relax. It's a statement of the way things are, not a threat. Whether I said it or not, the reactions are going to be the same."

Dryden rolls his eyes again. "You lot like to talk." He decides with a roll of his shoulders. It's unfortunate that his poor sister hadn't stopped HIM from facing..well, whatever it was that he faced. Either way, he seems the opposite of annoyed. Indifferent is more the case. And sticky. He's suddenly discovered his hands are stick. A new alarming development in his morning mystery. He also sighs. "Well..I think I need a shower." He decides toward Ilsa. "Thanks for making me." He adds toward the girl before offering a small nod toward Leoric. "Maybe I can figure out what exactly I did lastnight." He doesn't seem hopeful. "If you see my shoes let me know. I'm sure they're wet." Added before he heads toward the washrooms. Slowly of course.

Ilsa casts Leoric a smile, shaking her head. "That doesn't sound very fun. I hope you were at least successful in saving your siblings from trouble?" She waves to Dryden as he announces his intention to wash up. "Good luck with all that. See you later." Rising to her feet, she offers her cousin a smile. "I should probably get ready. Promised a friend that we'd meet shortly. Enjoy your book."

"It seems so so far. And thanks- I will. Enjoy your time with your friend, Ilsa." Leoric turns back to his book and retreats from reality once more.

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