(1939-01-20) The Age Old Code
Details for The Age Old Code
Summary: A friend of Cedric Avery suffers an injury. Andromena is joined by Alphard.
Date: 1939-01-20
Location: Hogwarts Infirmary
Related:
Characters
AlphardAndromenaCedric

There are a few wounded here from a terrible broomflying accident! Cedric is sitting beside one such patient, giving them a Calming Draught's content every once in awhile.

Gulliver Crouch was the boy being fed the Calming potion by his undoubtedly good, dear friend Cedric Avery. For his size and age, he was behaving an awful lot as though he were a four year old girl. Andromena, having checked on the only other patient in the room at that time, paused at the foot of the bed and eyed the pair of them with a well-crafted mask of neutrality.

"Madam Spleen says he'll be back on a broom again in no time," said to Avery since Crouch himself was more or less too busy bemoaning his ill luck.

"Bloody mudbloods…" He could be heard to utter, just after swallowing the last little bit of the draught.

"But for now, rest is what he requires." The unsaid portion of that sentence was, of course: you can go now.

"You've got that right. Bloody mudbloods." Cedric remarks as Andromena then tells him he can go. To which he politely shakes his head. Not now. And now, he's turning to regard the Ravenclaw. "Good to know. And yes, I suppose he does need rest." He pauses. "Do infirmary apprentices tend to work this late? Though you do look good in a healer's garb, Rowle."

Andromena could look good in anything! That was the boon one received when graced with a svelte frame; after all, it was the body that made the clothes. That aside, Andromena wasn't having any of Avery's compliments because she had heard all about him from the gaggle of girls speculating over just who Morgana had been seen with this weekend! It did not help that Demetria Lestrange had basically turned into a frothing preach in the pulpit, ranting on about the devil, after he had so ruthlessly dumped her.

"They do not," she answered simply. "I sort of…volunteered," begged Madam Spleen. "To work a few evenings." She was having trouble sleeping. Rather than annoy her fellow Ravenclaws, she found ways to escape the Girls Tower. Andromena walked up to the head of the bed, laying the back of her hand upon Gulliver's forehead in an almost absent manner. "Is it true, what he said about the accident?"

"But they do, and your protestation certainly attests to it," comes the reply. Yes, the Gryffindor is absolutely sure that Andromena Rowle, who is actually his cousin to some degree, might have heard of his reputation. The thing is that he does not seem to mind it so much as wields it like one would an advantage. One might even say that rakes like him use it to their advantage much like bullies would use their infamy.

And Demetria has always been his on and off sweetheart besides. "Why would you volunteer for that, save to get good references in a career doing this afterward?" Cedric wonders, as she checks Gulliver for fever. He nods affirmatively at her question. "Yes. It is."

"I want the good references," Andromena tells Cedric with a shrug. Any other reasons are none of his business. Though…if it was any consolation, it was not as if Andromena was sharing it with just anybody. "How terrible," she says, looking back at Crouch. He may be an insufferable twat of a Gryffindor, but he didn't deserve to be brutalized by some thugs. If the story Cedric was corroborating was true, that is. Andromena had no reason to disbelieve either of them in regards to the ordeal, but Madam Spleen had appeared sceptical.

"Well, I will find them. Then there won't be enough Deflection Charms in the world to stop me," Cedric replies, perhaps as an assurance to his friend, who certainly has a broken leg. Poor fellow. "Good references are important, almost as important as good grades on your NEWTs, Rowle. So good on you."

"Thank you," said with a small dip of her head. Andromena is no where near skilled enough to take care of any broken bones, but she could see to the smaller cuts and scrapes, and all around general care of a patient. "That is no way to talk, Avery," she says in a mild tone. Sure, Andromena did not advocate violence, but she was actually thinking more about a pure-blood getting in trouble over some muggleborn punks. "Let them dig their own graves, why don't you?" Because that was just the best choice of words, wasn't it?

"You and I both know that is the only way to talk about that breed of miscreant," Cedric replies, forcing the poor little Crouch to drink the rest of the Calming Draught. It appears to have the intended effect as the patient falls asleep, so he leaves the bottle on the desk. "But I suppose you are right. Best to leave them to dig their own graves. And then help them voluntarily jump into them."

It's evening. There are currently only two patients in the infirmary at this time, one of which is Gulliver Crouch - a seventh year Gryffindor. He's accompanied by his friend, Cedric Avery, who had been allowed to administer to him a Calming Draught. On the other side of the bed is Andromena, who had only just drew the sheets up and over Crouch's chest as though he were a child. She shook her head at Cedric.

"Well, I don't want to hear about it," she's saying, watching the now-sleeping Crouch. "And maybe don't go blurting it to any prefects or faculty, either. I doubt very many of them will openly agree with your logic."

"Very well," Cedric replies, falling silent as he watches his friend. Drawing his wand, he points at a book he left on the far side of the infirmary and intones, "Accio Transfiguration for Experts." Once the book leaps into his hand, he flips the cover open and browses his way down a table of contents with a certain familiarity.

Andromena does not reply. It was obvious that Cedric had no intention of leaving. With something of a mental sigh, the young woman paced over to the other patient to briefly check up on them behind their privacy curtain before striding to the far end of the room. Picking up a quill and a clipboard, she begins to catalogue a nearby medicine cabinet.

"So were they in your House?" Asked without looking up from her writing. Scritch scritch scritch went her quill. She may have remained silent, but hey, sometimes standing around like a mute just isn't all that appealing.

"At least one of them," Cedric replies, and turns close to a hundred pages before reading intently from the book. "Really, he didn't stand a change, not with so many of them giving chase like a swarm of wasps." He looks up from his reading and studies the Ravenclaw as she goes about writing.

Alphard was whistling on a tune as he entered the hospital wing, looking very much on the chipper side of things. He had a green apple in his hand, which he was bouncing up and down in his palm. As usual his attire was immaculate; uniform neat and tidy, his tie sporting a perfect knot. The sort most boys in school just didn't bother with.

"Meanie," he greeted, heading over without hesitation. On his way he looked to Cedric and his friend, too. "Avery."

"As long as they weren't a bunch of Ravenclaws," Andromena mutters, rather indignantly. Really. It was just no way to behave! At least, not for her supposedly bookish House. Alphard's arrival draws her attention up from the task at hand, and she beams a smile. Holding both the quill and the clipboard in one hand, Andromena lets her arms fall to her sides.

"Alphard, hey," greeted happily. "Have you heard about what happened?" She gestured towards Crouch. Thankfully he wasn't whimpering like a kicked puppy now that he was firmly asleep.

"Black." Cedric replies after another look up, and a turn of page. "You seem awfully chipper for someone who just walked into an infirmary. Though I hear that is good for morale, I don't know. Depends on perspective." He could take it or leave it, it seems. "Horrible broom 'accident' that Crouch suffered."

"It's not me hurt or sick, so why shouldn't I be?" Alphard asked. Empathy for others' pain? What a ludicrous proposition. "Broom accident? No, can't say I've heard anything about it." He shrugged to say he really couldn't care too much either. His gaze slid across the injured student, then flicked off dismissively. Instead he came up by Andromena and held the apple up in front of her. "Figured you might be getting hungry."

Andromena took the proffered apple, all buffed and shiny, with her free hand whilst depositing the burden in her other upon a nearby side table beside an empty bed. That done, she was able to withdraw her wand so that she could begin slicing away at the fruit with the ever versatile Diffindo. "Thank you," she says as a slice is raised to her mouth. "I appreciate it." For she had been feeling a little hungry, truth be told, but would have put off eating otherwise.

"It didn't exactly sound like an accident to hear Crouch tell it. Anyway, going to keep me a little company, Alphard?" Cedric was keeping his incapacitated friend company, such as it was, and despite whatever relation they had (Andromena couldn't quite remember), there wasn't all that much she had to say to him outside of the expected greetings and everyday formalities. They got rather boring.

"Well, let us call it a mudblood attack," Cedric replies, flipping another page, "and be done with it. As that is pretty much what it was. Hence why I was putting such a strain in accident."

Alphard made a non committal sound in response to him having come to keep her company. Wasn't bringing her an apple more than enough boyfriend effort exerted already, without having to stick around? A second apple appeared, this time meant for him. He didn't bother to slice it up all neat like, just crunching into it once he'd buffed it a little on the sleeve of his sweater.

"A mudblood attack?" Alphard asked, almost incredulous. They wouldn't dare, would they? "Here, at Hogwarts? You sure he didn't just fall off his broom and then made up an excuse?"

Andromena frowns faintly as she chews. Did Cedric always have to be so disagreeable? And damn, Alphard. Forgive her for taking up so much of your precious time. But since it had not been a verbally protested issue, Andromena remained blissfully ignorant. Pulling up a chair, the young woman seated herself, crossing one leg over the other.

"Oh, there was apparently a whole gang of them," she informed Alphard, pointing an apple slice towards Crouch and Avery - mostly Crouch. "Said they were lying in ambush while he was doing some evening practice. Even broke his broom into kindling." Of course, Andromena was going off the words of a shrieking Crouch, who had been very concerned about the state of his leg when he had been brought in to see Madam Spleen. "Spleen rushed off after tending to him. I imagine to talk to Pringle, if no one else."

"Well. You did see what they did at the Sykes, attacking innocents without hesitation, threatening every pureblood. I of course was undaunted by it all. But it wouldn't surprise me if students here took that attack as inspiration. I mean, look at Edwards and his crew of miscreants. Violence is always that kind's first resort." He said it with absolute sincerity, as if completely oblivious to his own affinity with casual brutality. "It's a cultural thing, really. Muggles love killing each other, so why shouldn't mudbloods love killing, too?" It made sense in his mind!

"I suppose, yes. Though you know, Avery, you really should do something about it yourself. It's your friend, right? Eye for an eye."

Andromena could see that Cedric and Alphard shared a few particular traits, but as her boyfriend advocated the age old law of an eye for an eye, she merely lifted her hand to her brow as if trying to hide her face. Boys would be boys.

"I'm not surprised by it, either," she replies with a shrug of her shoulders. "It proves that they are not only infatuated with violence," yes, conveniently forget that wizardkind was not much different. "But that they're stupid besides. Still, stupid or no, I've yet to see very much being done about all of these attacks. Have they even released the name of that criminal you caught, Alphard?"

"I told Rowle as much," Cedric replies to Alphard like the man makes a LOT more sense right now! "I am going to ask him for one name when he wakes up, then whoever it was might not have a broom after Quidditch practice. Or a bum." Meaning: they're gonna fall on their ass, off their brooms. "Eye for an eye as you said. Or, in this case, broom for a broom, leg for leg."

"No. I do think they could've let me be part of that, you know. I mean, I caught him. They could've let me at least watch as they got the information out of him. Instead they just took him away as if they'd done anything." Alphard sniffed to say what he thought of that.

"Good. Can't let people just get away with that sort of thing, Avery. They start to think it's allowed. Give mudbloods your pinkie and they'll take your whole arm. That's just their greedy nature."

"I know," Andromena replies to Alphard in an agreeable tone. He had told her all about it, after all. She knew just how grossly unjust the Aurors had been when it came to properly thanking Alphard for his heroic action - hadn't they just pushed him aside as though he were a child once they laid hands upon the perpetrator? She began to eat one of the last slices of her apple.

"Didn't I tell you about that little firstie getting all hysterical when Carrow transfigured her friend into a bird? They were both asking for it, but when it happened you'd think he'd been attacked. It was obnoxious."

"Ugh." Cedric replies, in regards to the mudblood that Andromena seems to fer to. Little First, hysterical, well, there's only one match. "I will enlighten them on trying to solve things with polite, respectful discourse rather than bullying people while playing the victim card, Black. It is my final year at Hogwarts, might as well get some fun out of it."

"Firsties, what do they even know about anything?" Alphard asked with a dismissive wave of his hand. The younger students were beneath his notice most of the time. "Hopefully they didn't tattle too bad. Some of the faculty here at Hogwarts are terribly biased against students with proper breeding and families." He made a sniff that said he'd been the victim of such horrible injustice more than once.

"Her shrieking managed to attract enough attention," Andromena said with a grand roll of her eyes. As for Cedric, Andromena had never really looked at her next year, the last year, as anything other than her next step towards a productive future. To be brief, his comment about 'having fun' by getting into trouble boggled her.

"It's whatever now. I guess she's your problem, Avery, seeing that she's in your House." At least the troublemaker in Ravenclaw had been put down and hadn't caused any trouble for a couple months, at least.

"I'll deal with her. I told her not to cause trouble for anyone." Cedric replies, with a shake of his head. "They don't listen. Well, let's wait until something else springs up, and then I suppose it's time for me to come up with a plan."

"Anyway," Alphard declared. "I've got some study I need to do. I'm going to leave you to return to.." his eyes swept across the infirmary. "Whatever it was you were doing." Something important, surely.

"Sure thing," Andromena replies, getting to her feet. The apple core was tossed away and the clipboard was retrieved. "I'll see you tomorrow, Alphard. Have a good night." If not a breakfast, then class. Because unless Alphard was going to break curfew for whatever reason to come see her again, well…tomorrow it would be. And Cedric? He'd get a goodbye, too.

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