(1939-01-22) Doric, Ironic, and Corinthian
Details for Doric, Ironic, and Corinthian
Summary: In which Medusa takes foreign (or Doric) language lessons, which confuses Variel, and in which Angus is interrogated (again) about the Birds and Bees, and his intentions towards Lucretia.
Date: 1939-01-22
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts

After lessons but before supper the Great Hall becomes a study area or just a place for general socialising. Medusa is a frequent sight here, not an every day occurance but a regular attender. Today she has her wizarding chess board out in front of her and is playing chess with a tall dark-haired Ravenclaw. The boy is often seen in her company or that of Douglas and is known to be a friend to both. "Are you sure you want to do that Thad?" Medusa smirks as her question causes the boy to hesitate and place the owl shaped piece back where he had picked it up from.

Angus flounces in, with a cheerful whistling tune on his lips. Oh yes. Badly out of key

The jaunty whistling draws Medusa's attention. "Angus, my little man!" She motions for the boy to come join her and Thaddeus. Thad's brows knit together as he looks at the board in front of him, judging by the number of pieces Medusa has left and he does not the Slytherin is beating the pants off the Ravenclaw figuratively but thankfully not literally. "You know, M, he might find that rude," suggests Thaddeus. Medusa scoffs, "Nonsense. Angus is used to being called far worse and besides I want to speak to him. Now make your move will you."

Variel steps into the room and casts a glance around. He resettles his robes over his shoulders and walks towards the most familiar students- Malfoy and Macmillan. The gleam of silver over his Gryffindor-colors tie shows off the results of his most recent visit to the Headmaster's office, as does the iron ring around the hilt of his wand, occasionally visible when his robes shift.

Angus frowns a bit, and then shoves his hands in his pockets, and ambles over towards Medusa, still whistling, until he gets there, "Aye, whit is't, Quine? De yeh nay ken hoo busy I am?"

Variel's larger frame gets a glance and Medusa nods, noting the Magijugend pendant but first her attention is on Angus. "Sit," she tells the third year, "I want to ask you a few things." Seeing as how Thaddeus has finally made his move and it isn't an entirely clever one, Medusa even tuts, she makes her own move. "Been to see the Headmaster have you Weasley?" Hearing the surname Thaddeus turns, expecting to find his boyfriend (who is also a Weasley) but only seeing Variel he merely gives the younger male an upnod of recognition and turns back to Medusa in time to see the mistake he made, "Bollocks, I should have moved that castle one instead."

"It's a rook, Thaddeus," Variel offers genially enough. "The castles are called rooks. And yes, I have, Malfoy, thank you for noticing." He offers her a smile and finds a seat nearby, peering at the pieces as the two play. "And hullo to you, MacMillan."

Angus Sits. Yeah. Bravery is one thing, but when your brothers girlfriend, who is also 'The Queen' says 'sit', so you doggy-do! Wuff wuff. "Whit's up, Malfoy?"

When Variel corrects him Thaddeus takes it in the spirit it is offered, at least this Cornfoot is a friendly enough fellow. "Right, rook," he says, "I should have moved that instead." The seventh year boy grins over at Angus, "Medusa is always up to something, in seven years I've never known to not have a plan in play somewhere." With a snort Medusa says, "You make me sound like some grand puppet master."

"Mighta done, yeh. You hear Gerald's in the infirmary with pneumonia? What's his relation to you, Thaddeus?" Another Cornfoot, of course. Variel stands and lets Medusa and Angus haggle.

Angus makes himself comfortable, and indeed, snags Medusa's goblet, to take a quick swig, "So, whit is it, then?" He's looking slightly… well… insolent, actually. In so far as it's possible to tell.

Medusa leans in to speak quietly to Angus for a moment, whispering into his ear. Across from her Thad is thankful for the break in her concentration and looks at Variel, "Ah…cousin of some sort. Third or maybe forth, I'm not sure. So you went and signed up to Flint's little club. I steer clear of politics myself, makes life easier. Let those who're eager to throw themselves under the Knight Bus do so."

Medusa whispers: I wanted to see if you had any questions, about girls…things you're too embarrassed to ask your mum or your sisters. Oh, and I want you to teach me to speak like you do, of sorts. To surprise Douglas.

"I would have preferred the Knight Bus to what I got. I'm standing with the people who saved my life, and against the future I see coming. I don't at all mind being wrong, but if I'm right, I'd like to be working to protect ourselves before it's upon us."

Angus blinks and goes red, then shakes his head, and whispers back to Medusa.
You whisper, "Duggie told me a whole lot, Quine. And… uh… no. Nae questions, I dinnae think. Whit makes you think I'm aboot ready to get wi' some lassie?" to Medusa.

Thaddeus tries to take advantage of Medusa's being distracted by her intense whispered conversation with the small red-faced Macmillan by sneakily moving one of his pieces forward all the while carrying on his conversation with Variel. "I can understand that, what you went through must have been horrific. The worst I've ever been hurt was by that saddist Pringle, well and in duelling club but they make Spleen fix you up after."

Medusa whispers: Well I saw the way you were looking at Lucretia and I had wondered if maybe you fancied her. I could be wrong, maybe you're not like Douglas and don't fancy girls yet. Or maybe you fancy boys. Do you fancy boys?

Medusa continues her whispered conversation, but whatever she finally says has her leaning back enough to gaze quizically at Angus' face.

Variel prods Thaddeus in the soft spot below the ribs. He doesn't SAY why, he's not throwing Thaddeus under the bus, just coaxing him to play with a touch of honor. "I try not to think about it. I was glad enough to see my friends get out alive. Now I'm just moving forward."

Thaddeus mutters and moves the piece back. "C'mon Weasley where is your family loyalty? I'm dating a Weasley you should be looking out for me," he jokes. Thad reaches into his robes and pulls out a candy cigarette which he begins chewing on. "We were supposed to have been there but my sister went into labour and Mum didn't want to be at a party just in case. Like M there, she was home sick. I guess it will long be one of those events for our sort, won't it?"

Angus frowns slightly, then says aloud, "Ah'll teach yehs, Malfoy." And a pause, "As for the other, I jest dinnae ken!" He sounds slightly puzzled, as he admits it.

"Yeah. ah, I suppose so. And I -am- looking out for you, didn't say anything, did I?" Variel grins a bit out of the side of his mouth. "I'm glad there's people weren't around.I wouldn't have wanted anyone else to be there. It-" His voice cuts out from under him, and he has to push to get it back. "… it was pretty awful."

Medusa looks at Angus, and by her expression seems puzzled then nods. "Ah, okay. See Thaddues." She blatantly and rudely points at the boy across from them. "He is gay. He fancies other boys. He is dating Stephen Weasley."

Thaddeus looks over and waves at Angus, "I dated Medusa once in our third year and it turned me gay." Not really clearly, but it amuses him to say so.

Medusa whispers: I'm confused. Who didn't fancy Lucretia? You? Ooh do you mean Variel Weasley?

Angus shakes his head, going bright red, "Ah dinnae fancy boys. It's…. " He's clearly trying hard not to use the term 'Ewwwwww'. "Ah… well, y'said yeh saw hoo Ah luked at her, but Ah dinnae ken uf Ah wus!"

Variel seems a bit distracted by Angus' antics, but doesn't butt in. He lets them all talk it out on their own,

"Not everybody is manly enough to be the way I am," says Thaddeus. They might be more lenient and open-minded in wizarding society but it still isn't always a walk in the park being a homosexual and he has learned to have thick skin. After moving his piece on the board he looks back at Variel. "It amuses me how the little Mac sounds more Scots than the big Mac."

Medusa looks at Angus, "Alright, alright." She pulls him into her for a little hug, hoping to calm the third year down some. "I was confused about why you were confused." She lowers her voice again to a whisper.

Medusa whispers: I'm obviously wrong if you don't fancy Lucretia. I apologise.

Angus is behugged. Yep. Nothing like a MacMillan to get enbosumed. Be-bosumed? Enmedusiboobified? He whispers back, anyway.

You whisper, "I dinnae ken if Ah dae. Ah mean… she's Lulu…. but, Ah dinnae like seein' her with that Fifthie." to Medusa.

Thaddeus sniggers and slips his hands into his pockets. "And so another Macmillan drowns in the chest of Malfoy."

Medusa gives Angus a little squeeze and releases him, "Shush you," she tells the Ravenclaw. "I can't help it if I have a soft spot for Scots."

Medusa whispers: Who is the fifth year? I know she fancies one but not who.

Angus mutters, "Selwyn." Although, actually, he's a 4th year, and Angus is just plain wrong, "Was braidin' her hair fur her! Hoo girlie is that?" A beat, "Nae offense" he says to Thaddeus.

"Hey none taken. I don't plait hair. Pull, yes. Plait, no." To prove it Thad reaches over and tugs on a lock of Medusa's hair.

"Hey!" Medusa slaps Thaddeus' hand away and looks to Angus. "Really? Doing her hair? That's…yeah, not what I'd want a boy to do for me. Maybe stroke or run their fingers through but not give me a new hairdo." Her nose wrinkles. "I bet he cries too. He's a Selwyn you say? Yeah, they're…odd. I dated one." She's dated one of everything it seems.

Variel takes a seat and pulls out a sheaf of paper, idly starting to work out some Arithmancy sums while the others discuss relationships or whatnot. He doesn't seem to have much interest.

Angus gives a sage nod, "So, Ah dinnae ken, yeh ken?" Yes, of course, Angus. That's mighty helpful.

Thaddeus peers over at what Variel is doing, being a nosy sort then moves his piece on the board.

"So you don't know, I know?" Medusa thinks her Scots decoder ring is working right. "Well, yes I suppose - I saw that Cornfoot - I do know what you mean Angus." She slaps Thad's hand and moves his piece back then makes her own move. "So what do you think I should learn how to say, Angus?"

Angus ponders this, and suggests, "Whit yehs doin', Loon?" He looks encouraging.

Variel appears to be doing the figures for a Shield charm, to those with a bit of Arithmantic talent, anyhow.

"Why would I want to call him a loon? Or rather that does that mean to you, because to me it means I'm calling him crazy and really if I insult him in Doric he'll know you taught to me," Medusa kicks Thaddeus under the table to get him to play properly and stop looking at what Variel is writing. "Play or admit defeat, Cornfoot."

Thaddeus 'Ow's with loud indignity and glares at Medusa before knocking his king over. "I've had enough abuse. I'm going to go see if I can find a pretty boy to plait my hair for me." He gets to his feet unfolding his tall lanky form. "When you see Doug tell him I said he could borrow my charms notes." With that the seventh year Ravenclaw makes his way out.

Lucretia walks into the Great Hall. She's perfectly turned out as ever, her uniform neat and her hair pulled back into a thick heavy ponytail that falls down the centre of her back. "Variel," she says, an immediate smile on her face for her friend. He might be older but there's a friendship between the two that's survived his Sykes' gala experience. "I've not seen you in forever. Medusa. Angus." She greets everyone then slides into a seat alongside Angus but opposite Variel. Books that she'd been carrying get placed on the table and she looks across to the work laid in front of Variel. "What are you working on?"

Angus points to Medusa, and then to Lucretia. "Quine. Quine." And he taps himself on the chest, "Loon. Y'ken?" He rolls his eyes upwards, "It isnae herd, yeh deaf Sassanachs!" He gives Lucretia a grin, and reaches over to lightly ruffle her hair, at least until his fingers get broken.

"Hullo, Lulu." Variel glances up from his work with a grin, the light of the hall catching on the silver medallion on his chest. "It -has- been forever. Missed you, I did." He turns back to his work. "Got accosted by one of your house last night. And another a couple nights before, come to think of it. Seems to be a pattern."

Medusa nods slowly as she comes to understand what Angus was trying to teach her. "I think I'll write this down." From inside her robes she withdraws a little black book, a pencil and her blackthorn wand. After touching her wand to the book she sets it on the table and flips the book open to an empty page. "Hello Lucretia." She glances up from her book to look at Variel, but says nothing just yet as she needs to write down things before they leave her head. "Okay. Wet yehs dooin', Loon? How did that sound, Angus?"

"Oh. That's never good," Lucretia says, ducking from the hair ruffle that Angus gives. "Ow. Don't do that. It took forever to get it into this ponytail." There's a swat of her hand given and she ducks her head forward so she can catch Medusa's attention. "Quine. It means girl, you know. At least, I think that that's what it means, isn't that right Angus?" She's quick to look back across the table to Variel however, because that medallion on his chest didn't go unnoticed. "You made the Magijugend then? Congratulations. I'm still waiting for my interview."

Angus nods approvingly, first to Medusa, then to Lucretia, and then leans in to whisper to Medusa, finally saying, "Aye. Quine. Gurl. Wee bit whetter wi' your whit, ken?"

You whisper, "New one. 'Awww, Duggie, duhs yer Boabie stull utch?'" to Medusa.

Angus leans back, after the whisper, looking… well, smug.

Medusa frowns, "Oh, Lulu you should have reminded me. I'm forgetful. We can do it after dinner tonight. It won't take long at all." She looks at Angus and starts to write down what he said, as ever spelling it how she thinks it is spelled. When he whispers to her her face turns a bit red. "I know what that means Angus." Of course she would.

Variel nods with a smile. "I did. Headmaster Flint just wanted to talk to me before offering the chance to join. It went very well, needless to say." He scratches a few more numbers. "I think I impressed him. Maybe." A slight grin takes his expression as he keeps putzing at the numbers on the parchment. His expression falls a moment later, twisting into a faint grimace. "Not everyone was impressed."

"I only just turned in my letter of interest to Professor Flint," Lucretia says, twisting her head a little to try to see what Medusa's writing down. Its a curiousity born of the knowledge that whatever it is that Angus has whispered to her has made her blush, though if score were being kept, the older girl's cheeks aren't as red as they were the previous evening during Lu's conversation with her. "Angus! Boabie?" A quick cough is given before she bites her lip to prevent a giggle, turning attention back to Variel. "Well I'm impressed, and so must Professor Flint have been too. I'm sorry if anyone from my house has been snarking at you over it, but everyone is entitled to their own opinion. I'd have understood more were it a Huffle but you just have to rise above it I suppose. Would you like a mint?" And she places a bag on the table, nudging it so everyone can help themselves.

Angus's own cheeks are pretty red, and it appears one of his pranks has just backfired, for it seems he had intended Medusa to say that to Douglas without really understanding its meaning, "Sorry, Malfoy. It wus meant tae be funny." Lucretia gets a little dig in the ribs by a sharp MacMillan elbow. "Dinnae say that wurd, Lulu. It's no poh-lite, mind?"

"It's no different than saying willy," observes Medusa. She doodles on her book. "Or knob. As in, Variel, I apologise for there are some right knobs in my house who think just because you are a Gryffindor it means you are beneath them. My sister was a Gryffindor you know. Now she is an auror."

Variel shrugs and takes a mint. "Thanks. The flak was more because they were treating me like I'd suddenly turned into Alphard Black with years of being a total git to people, over my decision to stand with the friends that saved my life. It was just- aggravating, and not from someone I expected it from. They also told me I had to judge people based on their individual actions- which they were explictly not doing for me. Like I said, aggravating."

Variel says, "I very much appreciate the sympathies though, you two.""

Angus leans in to Lulu and giggles slightly, as Medusa says 'Willy' and 'Knob'. And he then whispers to the other Slytherette.

You whisper, "Duggie an' her reckon we're sweet on each other!" to Lucretia.

"Oh Variel…" Lu says, reaching a hand across the table to briefly touch the tips of his fingers with hers. "They're just, as you say, blinkered. Blinkered by their own prejudices and preconceptions. All any of us can do, is be honest with ourselves and with others." That anyone might doubt what Lu's own feelings are would never be in doubt, and after an encouraging smile in her friend's direction, she's brought up short by whatever it is that Angus whispers to her. "What?! Seriously? But WHY?!"

"Curiously, who might they have been Variel?" Medusa still seems to be dividing her attention between the three of them and her doodling. "I could hazard a guess but I might be wrong. There are not many Slytherin who speak openly against the Magijugend, while there are certainly a fair few who prefer to maintain the preservation of the way things were before."

Variel says, "Yaxley. She lit into me the minute I came downstairs, didn't even wait for me to -say- anything. Just yelled at me for deciding I was a pretentious git and everyone bleeds the same and…" He grimaces again. He -is- frustrated."

"Isn't Yaxley one of Douglas' friends?" Lucretia says, looking over to Medusa for confirmation. "Why on earth would she yell at you for being something that she accepts in others?"

Angus frowns, and nods, then nods specifically to Lucretia, "Aye, wull, yehs could ask them?"

"Not really, Lucretia. I know her more than he does. He made nice with her because she was Augustin's girlfriend at the start of the school year." Medusa purses her lips. "I wasn't aware she was such a supporter of the unity movement. My brother will be pleased." Her head turns towards Angus, "Come on wee man, more words."

Variel just shrugs. "She ended up wandering off all high and mighty, -mournfully- muttering about how politics just result in upsetting people, as if she wasn't the one who'd brought it all up in the first place." His script is a bit heavier, more erratic.

Lucretia purses her mouth, her ponytail bouncing with the nod of her head given. "Ah. Well she best not snark at me for my decisions, I'm not quite so generous as you are, Variel." That said, and with half an ear still turned to the education of Medusa in 'Angus speak', she flicks the edge of Variel's work with the extension of one finger. "So. What are you working on?"

Angus ponders a moment, and suggests, "Duggie, th' wee man is so braw! Fit yuhs doin' wi' sich a gye rare brither, ye crabbit loon?"

"It's practice. Arithmantic formula for a Shield spell. Nothing particularly interesting, sadly." Variel gave Lu a touch of a smile for her interest and returned to his work for a bit, focusing to finish it up.

Medusa laughs a little then reaches over to pinch Angus' cheek. "Th' wee man is so braw." She then gently taps his cheek with her hand before writing down what he said in her little black book. "How is your kilt swagger coming on then Angus?"

"Kilt swagger? What is that?" Lucretia is apparently quite fluent in Angus-speak, but not so much in what kilt swagger might mean. Perching an elbow on the table, she rests her chin on folded knuckles and looks between Medusa and Angus, curiousity lifting one brow.

Angus looks a little disappointed, "They dinnae let us wear our Kilts as part of Uniform." He sniffs, "I dinnae see why not, but I had it oot fur Hogsmeade, at least. An' I look braw in it, don' I, Lu?"

"I can imagine you look very braw in it Angus. You're not some weedy sort of boy who plaits hair for girls." Medusa begins shading in one of her doodles using the tip of her pencil. "Douglas certainly looks very handsome in his. You Macmillan men have something going for you."

Lucretia chews on the edge of one finger. "There's nothing wrong with being able to plait a girl's hair," she remarks, a little testily perhaps. "Though I would agree with Medusa that you look very good in your kilt Angus. Especially when yelling things like 'you'll never take me alive' whilst diving for an escape at a party. You know, I saw right up your kilt when you did that. So brave."

Angus goes scarlet. "Uh… Ah…. I'm pleased yehs thut I wus brave, ken! Yuh can reward me in some fashion o'your choosin' at some point!" He's trying hard not to meet the eyes of either girl

"Right up it?" Medusa chokes on her laughter and has to look away. Her entire body shakes with laughter which she is trying to suppress.

Lucretia looks at Medusa, then looks at Angus. "Right. Up. It." There's a nod in confirmation and she gives a small shoulder-bump to the boy at her side. "Sorry. It was a very good dive though, and bought me time."

Angus pauses, and then facepalms. "Och. I've ruined the poor lassie fur any other non-kilt wearin' man! Her fehther wull kill me!"

That all just makes it even funnier for Medusa. She leans over, resting her forearm on the table and her head on her forearm. Odd sounds emit from her as she tries so hard not to laugh.

Lucretia grimaces. "What I saw, no thirteen year old should see. I think I have some study to attend to, so if you'll excuse me?" Gathering her books back up, books she never even managed to open, she pushes herself to her feet. "Be good," she admonishes Angus, ruffling his hair with a quick swipe of her hand.

Angus corrects, "I'm always good, Lu. Usually bloody _awesome_ in fact! Yehs know that!" And there's that cheeky grin. He doesn't object the hair ruffle, and instead, gives a brief tickle to her flanks on both sides whilst her hands are busy, "You have fun wi' the studyin'."

Looking up the seventh year nods her goodbyes to Lucretia. Turning her head, Medusa wipes tears from her face as she queries, "Wee man fit yuhs doin' showin' the wee quine yer bare arse?"

Lucretia hugs her books into her chest. Either she doesn't hear, or chooses not to hear, what Medusa says, a twist of her hips to escape the tickling before she heads out of the room.

Angus looks haughty, and then admits, "Sacrificin' mahsel' so she culd have a wee bittie more fun?"

Medusa draws in a ragged breath only to laugh again, "At least it weren't yer boabie."

Angus groans, "I'd _die_." He looks in the direction the girl left. "Fit yehs think?"

Dragging a hand through her tousled hair Medusa says quietly, "I think she is a fine girl but she doesn't see you as anything but a friend. She's got a fancy for this hair boy."

Angus gives a nonchalent little shrug, "Aye. Well, he's no a real _manly_ man, is he, ken?"

"Not from the sounds of it, but she is a different kind of girl. Not everybody likes manly men like you and Douglas." Medusa smirks and points to the bag of mints Lucretia forgot to take. "Pass me one of them, wee man."

Angus slides the whole bag over. "When's the weddin', quine, aye?"

"Lucretia's? She doesn't know. Her mother has never told her when she will be marrying Ignatius." Medusa takes a mint and pops it into her mouth.

Angus helps himself also, "Och, y'ken Ah meant you and Duggie."

"Oh." Medusa shifts on the long bench, looking uncomfortable. "I don't know. He hasn't asked nor have I. We try not to think that far ahead. Besides, we're too young for marriage. I'm eighteen next month and he's not eighteen for a few after that." She grins at Angus, "Why? Eager to wear the kilt again?"

Variel finally finishes up the mathwork and sits back. "Yeesh… takes forever to put these things together. Worth it, though, if you know you've got some important spellwork coming up, or just taking precautions." He's been so focused, he seems to have missed the conversations.

Angus glances at his nails, "Aye. It suits me. Dashing, 'ken? And I'm almost fourteen. "

Medusa drapes an arm around Angus. "I promise, should your brother and I get married you will be part of the wedding and get to wear your kilt." She looks over at Variel and laughs, "What in Merlin's frozen beard are you on about, Weasley?"

"Arithmancy work. Practicing the formulas for a shield spell. Seems like the sort of thing might come in handy from time to time, yeh?" Variel blows on the ink to dry it, then rolls up the parchment.

You say, "Or you could always hit the person over the head, aye? Wi a big stick?"

"Or kick them in the boabie." Medusa bites down on her mint, crunching it between her teeth.

Angus nods sagely, "Aye!" A pause, "Yeh's no told Lulu that, have yehs?"

"Not kick, I said knee. But I was telling her to knee a boy if he tried to put his hand up her jumper, which is different." Medusa takes another mint for herself. Dinner is a long way off.

Angus blinks, "Uh…. Awright." There's a pause, "Who's gonnae try an' do that?

"Nobody if they know what is good for them because I'd hex them, Douglas would beat them to a pulp and you'd probably shove itching powder down their pants." The mint gets swapped from one side of Medusa's mouth to the other. "Not to mention Lulu kneeing them herself."

Angus frowns, "Yeh dinnae think the Hairdresser'd try anythin' like that wi' Lu?"

"She doesn't think he will, no. But you can always spy on them," suggests Medusa. Because clearly that would be a great idea!

Angus frowns, "Sounds a wee bittie creepy tae me!"

"I don't know him. Point him out to me sometime," she tells Angus. "Then I'll see what I can do, but I make no promises. Even if you do one day end up to be my kin."

Angus explains, "Hufflepuff." He doesn't add further commentary on that particular matter.

Medusa sucks a breath in through her teeth. "A Snifflepuff?" She shakes her head, tutting as only someone with British genes can. They're champion tutters.

Angus stands, and nods, "Aye. Y'ken why I dinnae think it's a good idea?"

Medusa nods as she gets to her feet. "Aye, I ken." She shakes her head, realising she was lapsing into Scots again. "Thanks Angus." Looking around she spies a younger Slytherin, "Goyle! Get my things and put them on my bed." The second year girl hops up and rushes to do the Queen's bidding.

Variel spends a few moments in conversation with another Gryffindor, finally turning to see Angus off and wave a farewell to Medusa. "Thanks for the sympathies, you guys. Have a good day, alright?"

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License