| Details for Magijugend Interview - Lucretia |
| Summary: | Medusa interviews Lucretia on her application to join the Magijugend, and the two are joined by Variel and Esther, both quiet and reflective. |
| Date: | (1939-01-24) |
| Location: | The Great Hall, Hogwarts |
| Related: | Plot: For the Greater Good |
| Characters |
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Braziers that hang by chains from the beaks of griffin gargoyles that line the walls where they meet the high vaulted enchanted ceiling offer warm illuminating blazes. Four long tables are evenly spaced with the heads of the table at the north and south of the room. Each table has a cloth runner down the center and a plush rug underneath of the different House colors indicating to which house the table belongs.
The most westerly table is the Slytherin table. Beside them is the Ravenclaw table. The Gryffindor table is then between the Ravenclaw table to the west and the Hufflepuff table which is the most easterly table. One other table along the northern wall up on a dais for the Professors to sit at and look over all four of the other tables. Also on the dais is one lectern gilded in gold with an owl spreading it's wings at the top of the lectern. Candles line the tops of the owl's wings to illuminate anyone speaking at the lectern. A stool like protrusion comes out of the lectern as well as that's where the first years sit when they are sorted.
There are three sets of doors in the Great Hall. The main exit and entrance that leads to the Entry Hall is a large set of double wooden doors carved with vines and flanked by high stone pedestals each set with a small brazier above the stony 'H' carved in the pedestal. On the eastern wall is a much smaller door just next to the dais that's attached to the antechamber the first years come up from the lake through. Lastly one other door is set into the northwest corner behind the High Table.
As always high above within the obscured stone and wood cathedral like buttresses and crockets the outside weather is reflected in an illusion with all the sound and visuals of the weather, just without the actual effects of it.
Rather than being seated at the Slytherin table, Medusa is sat amongst some Gryffindors. There is a lot of space around her as the lions were giving the snake a wide berth. Several potions books cover the top of the table, most are opened. Medusa is chewing on the end of a pencil as she tries to make sense of what it is she is reading.
"Medusa?" Lucretia's voice is a little uncertain when it comes, a hesitation that is, perhaps, precipitated by the fact that the Gryffindors that are closest to Medusa turn as a body to look at the vertically challenged young witch. "I was wondering if, perhaps, you might have time to speak with me." Dressed impeccably in her uniform, there isn't a single hair out of place on the young Black, the creases in her skirt knife sharp and her socks pulled up smoothly to her knees with what might be precisely measured turn-downs at the top. Her hands clasp behind her back, and with a supreme display of self-control she manages to ignore any and all mutterings that might rumble around the table at her being there. Indeed - her attention is fully and completely on the other Slytherin.
Hearing her name Medusa lifts her head and beams a smile at Lucretia, pleased to have a distraction. "Good afternoon Lucretia. Please sit." Gesturing to the empty space across from her as if she were able to control the entire room not just the Slytherin table. "What can I do for you?"
Lucretia sits, and as she does she clears her throat, folding her hands neatly in her lap. To her credit, she doesn't stare or glare at the Gryffindors that are to either side of her, so its perhaps surprising that they choose to shift themselves a little further away. "I was rather hoping to have an interview with you. When you have time, that is. For the Magijugend, that is. I'm not sure whether Professor Flint might have contacted you as yet to tell you of my letter of interest."
Variel looks up from where he's scowling vaguely at a book laying open in front of her. The sight of Lucretia softens his expression a touch, and he shoves the book down the table a few spots, coaxing a subsequently irritated fifth year from his prime position beside lush Queen of Slytherin. He doesn't say a whole lot, but there's more than a few housemates at the table who are… they aren't treating him badly, really, he just has less people going out of their way to talk to him lately. The scowl probably doesn't help. He makes a sound of noncommittal greeting to the pair, apparently simply seeking company.
Even better, a lengthier distraction! Medusa would hug Lucretia if it were appropriate and there were not a table separating them. "Of course. I can spare the time right now." She shoves some of the potions books aside and pulls her Magijugend notebook from her robes. "It is a simple enough interview, just three questions. What you say as well as how you answer will be noted down into a report which I submit to the headmaster. He will then make his choice, although he may wish to question you further." Looking up she smiles at Variel, nodding to him then glances at Lucretia, "Any questions before we begin?"
Lucretia looks over to Variel when he's noticed and she gives him a smile. "Hello Variel." She doesn't say more than that however, her business with Medusa being somewhat of a priority and to the Queen of Slytherin she gives a quick nod. "Here? Not that I mind having it here, I doubt that any of my answers would surprise anyone that might overhear." A lift of her chin accompanies that, and though she might draw further looks from any lingering Gryffindors at the table, it doesn't appear to bother her overly much. She knows who she is. She's a Black.
Variel returns Medusa's nod, seeming to be a touch more relaxed over with the two girls. Lucretia's smile helps further, breaking his scowl down into a small, lopsided smile- but it's sincere, at least. He pages through his book as the two get settled, listening quietly without much attention to anything but the pages and the Slytherin girls just now.
"Here is as good a place as any," answers Medusa. And here means she can put off studying for longer, maybe forget all about it altogether. "The first question is: Lucretia, why do you wish to join the Magijugend?" She watches the girl, ready to note down her reaction but also her answer. There are now three members of the Magijugend in Gryffindor, three times as many as in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff so it shouldn't come as much of a shock to those few lions scatered about that there is an interview going on.
Esther sneaks into the Great Hall with a mind to steal some fruit. Of course, there turns out to be quite a collection of friends, and so despite the looks and whispers her presence attracts, Esther walks down the length of the Griffindor table. She's silent though, assuming something is going on.
Lucretia is silent for a moment after Medusa asks the first question, spine straightening just a little as she crosses one foot over the other at her ankles. "From what I understand, the Magijugend are committed to upholding the values and traditions of our world. The world that my parents have brought me up to claim a place in. There is nothing more important to me than the protection of it from those that would weaken and compromise its continuance. Those of us that are of pure blooded heritage need to set an example to the others. Its not through duty though that I seek entrance to the Magijugend, but through a love of what we stand to lose."
Esther gets a sidelong glance but really Medusa's focus is on Lucretia. She waits for the often austere girl to finish speaking then notes down not only the words spoken but the manner in which they are delivered. "Thank you for speaking so honestly, Lucretia." Looking up from her writing, Medusa's pencil sits poised in her hand. "The second question is, for you the simplest. What is your blood status?"
Variel listens intently, lifting his eyebrows at the end of Lucretia's first answer, but nodding slowly. It makes sense, with what he knows of the girl- that at least seems to be his general attitude. He looks up as Esther approaches, his own silence mirroring Lowe's as the interview proceeds. He waits to see whether she's planning to sit down or what she might have planned.
This is probably more how one of these interviews should go. Esther is observing quietly for now, though, stealing a banana from a nearby bowl and peeling it delicately. The answers are… So different from her own. She sits, not too far from the interview process, tearing a chunk of banana off with her fingers and poppint it into her mouth.
Lucretia ghosts a smile, the first sign of a relaxing of the tension that's built within her, possibly without her even knowing it. "Pure blood. I am Black through the bloodline on my father's side and Macmillan on my mother's." Pride just colours the delivery of her words and her eyes hold firmly on Medusa's as she speaks. She waits until her lineage has been noted down before she scrunches her face a little, and despite the solemnity of the occasion, she adds, "I'm a Black through and through. I wonder if Prewett might consider taking my name when we marry, or at least agree to hyphenate. What do you think?"
"I think that the Noble House of Black will always know you are it's daughter, Lucretia no matter who you marry. Just like Douglas and Angus know your mother is Macmillan and their kin." Medusa finishes up her notation and comes to the final question, "Please take your time before answering this one. What is your opinion on teaching magic to half-bloods and muggle born?"
The interview was going rather starkly different than any of the three he'd gone through, as well- at least, on the surface. The more Variel thinks about it, the more he realizes that his own concern, the worries that prompted him to stand up and ask to join the Magijugend, stemmed from exactly the same place as Lucretia- a love for their traditions, society and those who make it up. It leaves him in a faintly philosophical frame of mind. He glances at the fruit-murdering Lowe for a moment when she decides to stand, turning his eyes back to the interview afterwards.
It's a frustration for Esther, strangely. The same question, entirely different answers. Nothing that she can 'disagree' with, but nothing that she finds as a kindred thought with Lucretia. So more fruit is slowly torn, screaming, and popped into her mouth.
Lucretia grimaces, partly because Medusa didn't give her the answer that she was looking for, and partly because she herself holds such strong views on half-bloods and muggle borns. "If we had never stood for the diluting of magical blood with that of muggles in the first place, then it would never have even been an issue. It has happened though, and look where it has landed us. That muggle borns take extra time and attention to acclimate to the powers they have been blessed with, is beyond a doubt. They disrupt and distract and half-bloods are barely any better. They have too much in the way of ties to the world of muggles with divided loyalties and weaknesses that put us at risk. They take, take, take, then turn what they have learned against us. Against us. I would not teach them. They deserve no such consideration." She pauses for a breath, a slight colour showing as two dots on her cheeks, her fingers tightening in her lap. "We need to preserve what is ours, and that means not giving them the power and ability to destroy us."
This is not the first, third or even the fifth interview Medusa has done and she has heard all kinds of answers to this question. Making sure not to show any response, be it approval or disaproval she notes down Lucretia's answers and mannerisms. "Thank you Lucretia. I will forward the report on to Headmaster Flint this evening. If you hear nothing that means you have been deemed unworthy." Not that she expects that to happen, what with Lucretia's grandfather being one of Flint's closest confidants.
Lucretia blows out a breath, the soft puff of air just catching the edges of her fringe so the hair riffles across her brows. "Thank you," she says to Medusa, leaning forward enough across to the table to watch the last of her words being scribed down. She knows better than to pump the older girl for her opinon on how she did, her answers are honest and true, even if a little extreme for some's tastes. "That was very kind of you to take time out to conduct this now."
Variel shoots a scowl at a couple of the more liberally minded Gryffindors as they mutter over Lucretia's answers- as it stands, he's cross enough due to other circumstances for the glare to carry venom sufficient to silence the grumbles. He glances at Esther, curious for her reaction.
Esther the Unworthy sits not too far away. The term causes her to look away for a moment. Possibly she's taken enough knocks for a few days, poor thing.
"Hello Esther." Now that the interview is over Medusa has attention for others. "You're welcome Lucretia. It is part of what being an Overseer means." The rest of what it means has never been explained to her. She makes a few more notes, nothing elaborate or lengthy and looks down the table, spotting a first year. "You! Yes, you. By your colouring I'd say you are a Blishwick which means we are related." Nearly everyone is related to a Malfoy, or wants to be. It's like being related to a Kennedy! "Take this to the staffroom, knock once nicely and when the elf attendant opens it instruct them to see it is given to the headmaster." The first year boy looks nervous but nods, taking the folded paper with a trembling hand. He runs off with it then, his shoes sliding on the stone floor as he rounds the end of the table.
Like Medusa, now that the interview is concluded, Lucretia seems able to refocus on things outside of that little bubble she'd formed around herself. "Hello Esther. You look dreadful. Is your head still aching from the tumble you took?"
Variel doesn't give the term Unworthy a second thought. In his mind, it's more a matter of fitting the criteria and dedication of the group. He knows, roughly, why he was turned away at first, and it was simply a matter of opinions. His hadn't worked very well in mesh with the group's ideals, and he'd been turned away until his naivete was remedied in a thoroughly Unforgivable manner. He's not quite up to chatting just yet and retains his silence for the moment.
Esther shakes her head in slow response. "It's better now. Hello, Medusa, Lucretia." There are other, more painful things on her mind right now anyway, Probably why she missed her last meal, and is now catching up with fruit.
With NEWTs looming Medusa has ignored gossip a lot more lately, as such she looks at Esther with some concern. "Fall?"
Variel finally chimes in a touch. "She tripped and knocked her head. She's been to see the healers, though. Managed to miss the glass from her ink and potion vials. Lucky, that."
Lucretia flicks her hands elegantly against her hair to settle it back behind her shoulders. It settles after a bounce in dark, glossy waves and it takes a moment or two for her to absorb Esther's reply, and continuing depressed mood. "If its better, then why do you look so terrible? Its like you've not slept in forever." Which could also be true, knowing Esther's sleeping habits, but there's more to it than that, which Lucretia has apparently picked up on. At Medusa's question, she turns to quickly fill her in, except Variel's there before her, and so she doesn't.
Esther blushes as the lesser of her recent mistakes is pointed out to Medusa. "Just… Bad day, yesterday." She murmurs, promising herself that she'll inform the young Black another time. It's not the kind of laundry that the Slytherin's air, especially not at someone elses table.
Medusa looks Esther over more carefully now, her discerning gaze sharp and her tone somewhat exasperated when she queries, "Do you need more potions?"
Variel shakes his head slowly. "Don't think the head's what's got her mood off." He flicks his gaze to Medusa, a wordless implication that perhaps now might not be the place to discuss it.
Lucretia has no idea what's going on. Knowing when its a good time to speak, and when its not, she sits quietly. No doubt someone will tell her eventually, probably Esther, and until then she'll bide her time.