(1939-02-27) Improving Lowe Standing
Details for Improving Lowe Standing
Summary: A civil conversation between the two Lowes that have been in the spotlight due to a fiery fued. Progress is made.. or faked.
Date: 1939-02-27
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts

Myrus was sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Yesterday he got a message about his owl. Best thing to do? Request Fjurik be transferred home to rest and stay for probably the rest of the school year, using public owls, as much as he dislikes it.
It was a shock and very worrysome for several minutes before he could calm down enough to check for signs of life without being frantic. Then upon a seventh year Ravenclaw telling him it was likely draught of the living death, Myrus was no longer worried. He swallowed his anger to be regurgitated at a later time. Now wasn't a good time for any more violence. He has to be smart. Something people don't think of him much, other than he's in Ravenclaw. Or so he thinks.
Thursday after evening meal. Myrus sits at the Ravens table muddling over a couple of books. The library was too secluded and could be cleared out too easily. He calculated the number of Slytherin still here. He couldn't even go by the club room by himself, and had to take at least a couple of people to make his usual order of Muffins for Sybil that she 'won' over a competition. But that's neither here nor there and can be mitigated.
Here, out in the open, if they really wanted to, he could be cornered. But there were always the pictures that could see.. if anyone other than students outside of students cared. Delicate times for him.
Myrus bites into his bran muffin with honey spread on it as he reads.

Esther stays late after dinner as well, but that's a different story. Esther stays with her partner, the incredibly physically well made Zayn Shafiq, sharing whispers and plans and all kind of other niceties. It's a little while before even he has to go, and tend to something philanthropic - The same kind of thing that continually breaks her heart, to let him do. But it's the nature of the relationship, and the price of being with him.
Esther climbs to her feet slowly, brushing off her robes before heading towards the entrance. Walking towards the centre of the room, and then down alongside the Ravenclaw table, she is about to pass two of her third-year housemates when she hears some of the fallout from Myrus' latest bad decision. "Euch. Myrus, you look /disgusting/." One murmurs on the way through - And Esther grasps her by the forearm, firmly. Her voice quiet, but firm. "… Enough." Before she allows them on their way.
It's enough to make her look out for Myrus - And so here, she pauses and places a fine-boned hand on his shoulder, "Myrus. I heard about your owl." There's a large part of him that wants to slap him silly over Lucretia. "… You have my sympathies."

The two third years, that is. Myrus looked himself over a little, "Oh, do I?" He asks, playing oblivious to something obvious. Even if it really wasn't. He had been well-groomed through all of this. Except today a bit, since it was the end of the day and looks fade throughout stress-filled hallway jibes and classes with partners that want little to do with you. Luckily he still has people in other houses and definately his own that still are on good terms with him, wishing him condolences and wellwishings-
Unexpected. The hand on his shoulder made him look, and the voice and view of Esther giving him her condolences was /quite/ at the bottom of the list of expectations.
Myrus decides to roll with it. He offers up a smile so practiced in the face of bad-blooded family it was second nature, "Oh, why thank you, Esther," he states with the tiniest bit of excitement. Like he was happy to hear her being civil. He looks at his hand that held a feather from Fjurik. It was nearly crushed from him holding onto it all day. Stress or anger either way he'd been gripping it tightly. Don't want to lose it.
A touch of dismay enters his face and voice, "Yes, I was rather distraught from finding out and good hell did I nearly not go to my first class out of mourning until I found out it was a draught of the living death."

Esther pauses, and considers the empty space beside him. After a moment of consideration, her bookbag is placed down, and she sits at Ravenclaw table. "We're hardly somewhere private, Myrus. He'll be fine - There's a potion that can help with that anyway." Although the name escapes her. The slender Lowe sighs, and murmurs. "How've you been, 'Rus?" The use of his childhood name should signify, at least to him, that she's done with the fight. At least, for now."

Myrus disregards her comment about being in private. But he has to ask anyway, "Would that change anything, really?"
Though her sitting gets a look from him of a mix of disbelief and surprise, he reaches to grab the bag of muffins on the far side of his book from himself, leaning it towards her. "Muffin? No poison or potion upon them. I wasn't expecting you to sit with me." He chuckles a little. Actually making a joke.
"I guess I'm alright, all things considered. Yourself? How are you and Zayn faring?" COnversational tone. Even a little lighthearted.

"No thanks. I'm not hungry." Esther declines the muffin. "And I meant to your shock. I'm doing well. Learning to let go a lot of fear, anger… It's harder than I thought, but worth while. And for what it's worth, no matter how distasteful what you did was, retaliating against your owl was uncalled for." The girl admits. "… Zayn is helping me take things in a more peaceful manner. I'm trying to avoid conflict, violence and violent thoughts. Well, when he has the time." A faint blush. "He's… Incredibly busy. And it's immensely frustrating."

This is /actually/ turning into a real conversation. Who'da thought? Myrus surely didn't.
"Ok," he returns the bag to it's resting spot, taking a bite of his own muffin before setting it back on the cloth napkin. "Letting go -is- really hard, I agree," he says, bringing a hand up as he uncouthly speaks with his mouth full. Still used to getting all he can eat while he can from days at home. He nods in acceptance to the comment of the uncalled for attack on Fjurik.
"I'm sorry to hear that," he says, even if a little slip that of some 'I told you so' might creep in there, but he swallows it down with the finished bite of muffin, looking down at his book blankly.
"I imagine he can't be busy /all/ hours of the day." He found that hard to believe, that one could be muddled with worklike fashions from waking to bedding down to sleep.

"Zayn is a Shafiq. Outside of his schoolwork, he has several students that he assists, as well as tasks for the faculty as prefect. He also draws double-patrols, in order to lighten the load upon the other prefects, as the Girls Bathroom is still out of order." Esther admits. "He gives, and gives, and gives. It must be an exhausting life, but… It's one he lives, and happily enough." Would she change it if she could? In a heartbeat.
"Yes. I… I don't think I'm cut out for pacifism, but at least avoiding conflict is something I can learn to do easily enough." The young snake states.

He's getting drawn into the conversation now. The act becoming the reality. And it shows when she talks of how much of a philanthropist Zayn is. "Sounds like a real keeper." Shake that feeling off.
"You never were. /I/ know that. You were pacified by walls and locks as kids. Mad at your mother. What else could grow /but/ conflict seeking?"
Awkward pause from his end. Feelings for him, maybe? Misunderstood ones. Yeah, really uncomfortable feeling now, but not any negativity. Quick heel turn from that since she sat down. Act becoming reality.

"It's self-destructive." Esther defends easily. "Even though I was doing it /not/ to be what she wanted me to be, I was still allowing her to control me. It's not accurate. It's not my life, then. It's still her, reaching in and fucking /everything/ up." She confesses. "… So that's not who I'm gonna be. I'm not going to be afraid of a fight, but I'm going to avoid it. And that means making peace where I can." A pause. "… What you did to Lucretia was a shitty, shitty thing. But I want to make peace, over the bad blood between us."

"It is." He nods along while she talks, but still looking down at his book. When she brings up Lucretia, he huffs a little bit, then nods. "Yeah, because we've made right asses of ourselves enough." Agreement, even if he doesn't admit to anything at all. "Truce, if anything. And I thought that's what we're doing right now." Irony, and he smirks a bit at that. Bite of his muffin.

"Good. I'd better get going for now. I've houstmates to avoid." AS well. Esther rises from beside her cousin, shoulders her bag and walks away.

Myrus wordlessly goes back to his studying. Though, it seems there are a few short of Ravenclaws right now. Probably best time to head up to the common room. He packs his things and hopefully makes it there without incident or confrontation.

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