(1939-01-25) Growing Pains
Details for Growing Pains
Summary: At lunch, things get heated between two pained students, and runes are discussed, too
Date: 1939-01-25
Location: Great Hall

Anthony gives a slow nod, "Yes. Yes. And your temper?" He takes a breath, "Mine is… all over the place. Hooch suggested running. And boxing. They help. A lot."

Lucretia walks into the Great Hall, the picture of the perfect Hogwarts student. Her hair is neatly brushed and hangs in glossy dark waves to the centre of her back and her uniform is spotless, worn exactly as its meant to be worn. That is to say, her socks are pulled up and she's made no adjustments in order to make it more stylish as the older girls might do. Brief hesitation is made when on looking around she doesn't spot whomever it is she's come to find, but on seeing Anthony and Variel, she decides to head their way instead. Lucky them. "Hello," she greets, coming to a halt near them.

Variel frowns. "My temper is fine. I lost naivety and a sense of safety. I've been working on arming myself against further danger. All's fine." Lu earns a small smile. "Hullo, Lucretia."

"..shut up… Shut up! …. SHUT UP!" THe first was nearly inaudible. The second was heard over the murmer of people talking, and the third was an outright scream. Myrus Lowe was actually here, trying to eat, and people kept asking him if it was true.. or how it felt to be cheated on.. what are the signs.. etc.
His frown pasted onto his face like it was magically put there, and he stares at his plate, while noone tries to talk to him anymore. Unlike the pristine Lucretia, Myrus looks like death warmed over as he comes into view as people stop crowding around him, all wondering about the juciest gossip. Has Myrus even bathed in two days? Whew!

Anthony gives a grim little nod, "All of the above." He gives a shrug, "I'm getting better. Exercise, violence and hot baths improves most things." There's a faint little, sad smile on his face, and an explosion of papers in front of him. One pile appears to have sketches on of ferns, which on closer inspection are made up of runes branching off runes, branching off runes, and so almost ad infinitum. The other pile has some closely written text in German in it.

Lucretia tucks herself into a seat alongside Variel. "Do you mind if I sit with you a bit? I was meant to be meeting someone and I hate to wait alone." A long, hard examination is given the paper in front of Anthony, Lu herself being a fan of runes in the utmost sense, but if she were about to say anything, she pulls back from it, freezing as Myrus' voice lifts above the general chatter in the hall. "Oh golly. Is that Lowe?" She twists her head, attempting to see just where the older boy is sitting.

Variel stands as Myrus screams, turning on a dime qnd raising his voice, his scottish accent sharp. "OI! Next insensitive prat lays into Lowe with those PROPER fool questions volunteers to join the Duelling club and help him work that outa his system. ANY takers?!" Silence. Then SOD off, the lot of you. Lowe, you're sitting with us."

THat is one thing you can expect when you're at your lowest. Never be left alone when you want to be. Either people will be there annoying you, or trying to help you. And people trying to help you is sometimes almost as annoying as people being in your way. All Myrus wants to do is be mad right now. Lash out. Get some of that Carrow blood pumping, the stuff that comes from his very deeply darkened mother's side of the family.
He snatches up his plate, standing up and moving down to sit next to Variel, still looking down and yes, he hasn't bathed in a day and a half. It wasn't potent…yet. But if one got close, they could tell with a whiff. But then they'd be in his bubble, and likely get a hex right up the nose. Myrus remains silent and just sits there, blankly staring at his plate with that frown still securely fastened on his features.

Anthony casually picks up the runic script, and places it atop the otherone, but not before a bit of translated text is briefly visible in whatever the 2nd pile is, '… the curse of the werewolves is hard to detect, but it leads to inevitable cannibalism and abominations, such as I, myself witnesses….'

"If Lucretia did read or decipher any of Anthony's work, she doesn't make him aware of it, her hands pressing palms together between her knees. Thankfully, she's on Variel's other side from that claimed by Myrus, so she has a buffer from the older Ravenclaw boy. Having only so recently had a conversation with the cause of his current state of mind and body, she wisely doesn't speak to him. A precocious third year is probably not the company he'd seek. Thus, she sits quietly.

Variel takes a good few moments to pick up on Myrus' aggravation, and he offers a quiet "Sorry, mate. Not tryinta crowd." He stares at the runic script as a distraction. "… Rowle, what's wrong with your runes? They make no sense.

Myrus remains quietly looking at his plate, even reaching out to touch a finger to a biscuit and push it until it bumps into something else, and he keeps putting pressure with that finger until it pokes a hole clean into the biscuit. He removes his finger and puts his hand back into his lap, leaning his chest against the tabletop, looking at the very few things on his plate that he has barely touched. Touching being basically just the biscuit anyway, don't even get started on asking him to actually eat.

Anthony puts the runes on top, or at least, one of the sketches, "Then you're reading it wrong. Look." A finger traces down the path of one fractal. "Thorn. Aleph. Mu. Seta. Thorn. Then onto the next one. You see?"

Lucretia leans in against Variel's side. There's a air of unhappiness that settles about her like a second skin, and after another glance to Myrus, she tugs on his arm and cups one hand around his ear, asking something quietly of the red-headed boy.

Variel says, "… huh. Guess you're right. You oughtta be, you wrote it." He looks at Lu like she's nuts at the question, then shakes his head. "Trust your gut, Lulu. Mine's in knots, and all of'em mad.""

Anthony gives a faint smile, although it's still got an air of sadness to it, "It's supposed to make them work a little to read it. Catch their attention, you know?"

Myrus breaks from his silent pondering for just a moment to glance at the runes they are talking about, but just goes back to his quiet pondering of life, love, and the lack thereof.
Anthony pages: It appears to be written in reverse, but reading it you can see, with some effort, 'I should like, nonetheless, to register my interest in the Department of Mysteries

Lucretia's lower lip pushes forward with the response she gets from Variel, it presumably being not the one she was hoping for. "Alright." There's the tiniest bit of worry in her voice when she says that, the ghost of conflicted feelings just hovering behind her eyes. Biting the inside of her lower lip, she looks across to Anthony's writings and plonks an elbow on the table, studying as much as he's showing with a slight narrowing of her eyes. "Merlin's beard. That looks so terribly hard. I thought I was good at runes, but clearly I've a long way to go yet. Perhaps I'll ask grandfather for some extra practice parchments."

Anthony says softly, "You won't find this technique in any of them. I made it up myself. I call it Recursive rune writing. But when you think about it, most runes have at least one straight edge, which you will be use as the vertical of a new rune, and so on. Fleas on fleas on fleas, and so on."

**Dear Mr St. Cloud

I am currently in my penultimate year of study in Hogwarts, and am very interested in esoteric areas of magic. I realise that this is hugely presumptive of me, and you will probably want me to have more 'real world' experience before even looking at my virtues or capabilities, but I should like, nonetheless, to register my interest in the Department of Mysteries.


Anthony Rowle (and an address)**

Lucretia isn't yet good enough to understand what Anthony's written, especially given that she's observing it upside down and from the disadvantage of being a third year with a third year's level of ancient runes understanding. "It looks very … detailed," she manages, her tone more subdued than usually. Mainly, one would suppose, because Myrus is seated next but one to her and not currently the life and soul of the party.

Anthony gives a slight shrug, and pulls all his papers together. "Well, what else has been happening?" Myrus gets a bit of a thoughtful look. "You alright?"

Lucretia mirrors Anthony's shrug. "Adorabella Selwyn upset Alphard. I'm not sure exactly what she did, but it was enough to draw down his annoyance on her." Annoyance might be a bit of an understatement, and there's a small knitting of her brows. "I think she must have apologised though, because he asked her to dance the other evening, and he'd not do that if he was still annoyed with her. I mean, who could stay angry with her anyway? She's like this… fragile little bird that would fall apart at the slightest altercation. She's the sort that people just want to protect."

Anthony gives a slight shrug, and pulls all his papers together. "Well, what else has been happening?" Myrus gets a bit of a thoughtful look. "You alright?" (re for V, before Lulus)

Myrus breathes in deeply before looking up to reconnect with the real world again, "Of course not!" And he smiles, as if his answer was 'just peachy-keen'. And the smile fades quickly, and Myrus just leans forward, pushing his plate out of the way, adjusting in his seat a little away from the table, making it easier for him to simply put his forehead on the edge of the table without hitting his plate.

"I think that Lowe doesn't really want to talk about things," Lucretia says, showing a maturity beyond her years. Or maybe its just the result of whatever it was that Variel said to her earlier.

Anthony gives a slight shrug, "Whoever she is, she's not worth it." A firm nod there, to accompany the hard words, and solid tone of utter certainty. "Life is just a brief moment. A heartbeat. Enjoy it Forget those who make you miserable and cause… you pain."

Lucretia lowers her voice and leans across the table towards Anthony. Not a huge amount given that she's so short, but just enough. Or hopefully enough. "She is Esther Lowe." She does say it quietly and it can only be hoped that the mention of Esther's name, should Myrus catch it, isn't too painful for him.

Myrus quickly lifts his head, looking at Anthony with grim… something. In short, it wasn't a nice look. "Anthony," Myrus gets over-the-top with his pensiveness while saying this, "Imagine you have in front of you," he grabs his plate, and pulls it in front of him, "A plate of food." He then picks up the roll, "And there are things you can, and cannot eat due to various reasons."
He tosses the roll over his shoulder to land and roll a little ways on the floor. A quick look and pause when Lucretia says Esther's name, but he continues, picking up a handfull of green beans in his hand, the juice dripping down the side of Myrus' hand and onto the bench between them, "And there are things that you /can/ eat, because they are good for everyone." He flings those behind him to the side between himself and Variel, again onto the floor behind him. THis is now getting the attention of the teachers at the front, namely the one in charge of the table at which they currently sit.
Myrus grabs mashed potatoes in his hand, globs falling from between his fingers, "THen imagine you get /ONE/, and /only/ /one/ bite of that succulent meal that you've waited so long to get. And then BOOM!" Potatoes slammed down back onto his plate, sending bangers and mash, peas and corn, and a mish mosh of other things spattering heavily around his plate, likely hitting other people as Myrus stands up, "Then it's all just taken from in front of you, you have no choice but to sit there and ponder why it was taken, as nothing else looks appetizing. So excuse the muck out of me for being a 'little down' right now!"

Anthony says softly, and mildly, "Stop being melodramatic, boy." The speech and tone are soft and gentle, the words less so. "I was tortured with the Cruciatus curse, and my ONLY consolation at the time was that the girl who had _finally_ agreed to go to balls with me was not there… so was not in risk. A girl, I would add, that I have admired from afar for over a year. And then, whilst I was recovering, she ditched me, said it was all a mistake, and she had never felt about me the way I had about her, despite what her actions had led me to believe. And yet, of the two of us, YOU are the one whining. Grow up."

Lucretia's jaw just drops. She has nothing to say to this. Nothing. Her eyes flick from Anthony to Myrus, awaiting the explosion that will surely follow.

The last straw.
Myrus steps up onto the bench on which he was standing, and onto the table, not worried about walking around it, and he steps down in an empty space near Anthony, stepping over to him and very calmly leaning in, if allowed by Anthony, to whisper something to him.

Anthony doesn't pull away. Or push Myrus away. Or go for his wand. Just remains sitting impassively
You whisper, "Your mother ever wish you could marry someone, so you would have at least brought something good into the family? Has your father ever openly told you that he wished for a different boy for a son to you? Or that your sister is the preferred child? THen finally, someone you think loves you back deserts you. Maybe /I/ should have been the one that curse was aimed at. Being noone even in my own family wants me around. how about you? You have people there that love you and will support you before and after this? Good luck to you…" to Anthony.
Announcement: Boo shouts, "All through the halls of Hogwarts an unearthly wailing of bagpipes begins to emanate from the Great Hall."

Lucretia doesn't move. Not a muscle. Eyes do widen a little and if anyone were to ask, they would say that her attention is entirely locked upon Myrus and Anthony at this moment.

Myrus then straightens from telling Anthony the little shpiel, most of the time looking at Lucretia while he does, and then turns on his heel to just walk towards the doors at the behest of the teacher that's telling him to leave. Five points from Ravenclaw for antics during supper… or some such.

Anthony says after Myrus as he stomps out, "You have a point. But… still, grow up. Come box with me."

Lucretia turns her head at the sound of the bagpipes. "Excuse me," she says, getting to her feet. "I think I've just found the person I came here to look for." Leaving the tenseness of the situation behind her, also the mess on the floor and table, she heads out of the Great Hall.

Right as Myrus starts leaving from Anthony, and the offer to box was given, Myrus is hit with a body-binding curse, and would then be hauled off to Pringle's office without a doubt.
But as he's bound, and he's falling to the floor.. oh, that cool stone towards his forehead looks so inviting… and Myrus closes his eyes before he lands like a sack of potatoes.

Anthony gives a faint sight, and neatens his stack of papers, "I should get you somewhere safe." And it appears he's talking about the papers. Rather than the body bound.

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