(1939-09-30) Have a Long Spoon
Details for Have a Long Spoon
Summary: A routine evening meal in the Great Hall gets complicated when words are exchanged between muggle-born and Magijugend.
Date: 30 September 1939
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts
Plot: Headmaster from Hell

Marry, he must have a long spoon
that must eat with the devil.

-Shakespeare, Comedy of Errors, IV, iii

Dinner has been going on for a little while - the food is all out, with the now-usual seating arrangement putting the Muggle-borns at the foot of the House tables - save Slytherin, which remains as lilly-white pure as always. Prefect Abraxas Malfoy sits amongst his housemates, trading quiet conversation, though every once and a while he and the other deputies who wear the Eye of Truth turn to regard the other House tables with no small level of suspicion.

And Madeline is at her own table. She hasn't missed a second meal in the four weeks since school has started - and she hasn't touched a single meal in those four weeks, either, instead having little 'picnics' before or after. As she always has, Madeline picked up her plate, and pointedly turns it upside down as she sits ont he Muggle-born end of the table, talking cheerfully to the Muggle-born first year that sits next to her, while the girl eats. "I thought you did a pretty good job with that charm, actually," she remarks. "But you come to dueling club and I'll help you work on deflecto some more, too. I think you've aaaaaalmost got it down."

Abraxas's eyes focus on Madeline and her little friend, but he doesn't take any action, rather he just sits with his elbow on the table and breaks off little bits of a yeast roll to eat. He might not be able to overhear, with the tables so far apart, but he has no doubt, judging from his expression, that the muggle-borns are up to no good. Because they always are. Still, he just grumps for the moment, then turns back to finish his dinner. "I hear Eibon found somebody with a muggle book the other day. We should keep our eyes peeled. Looks like they didn't find everything."

"I think you just need a little bit more of a flick, you know?" Madeline explains - as if she's some sort of expert, and not a kid who'd learned the spell, herself, just a few weeks earlier. "A sharper flick to send the spells flying off. You can do it, I'm sure of it. You're pretty clever." She glances over towards the head table - where the teachers were still eating. Too early for her to leave the meal, just yet. She hates meal times.

Abraxas finishes his pumpkin juice, then says, "I'll be back for dessert, lads." He slides off the bench and starts to walk around the edge of the Great Hall. He approaches just as Madeline is finishing up her explanation of spellcasting, and says, "Food not to your liking, Evans?"

Madeline looks up at Abraxas, a frown on her features as she studies the boy. "The food's fine. I'll eat when I'm back in my classes," Madeline responds firmly. "Where I'm supposed to be. Learning magic."

"You are learning magic, Evans. The sort of magic that your kind should be learning." Abraxas says, crossing his arms, "Or are you not content with the Headmaster, either? No, I suppose you're not, but you always have been a malcontent. Probably violent, just like the muggles."

"When we're all studying the same magic, I'll eat," Madeline insists. "So you can join us in SCUMS, or we can go back to our real classes." The girl crosses her arms over her chest, without commenting on the accusation of violence. She is not a violent person! Her mum would have her hide if she were!

"You should be grateful to be here at all. You're insulting Hogwarts and the generations of real wizards who came before. And for somebody who supposedly cares about such things, you're disrespecting the labor put into making the food that you spurn, and the magic that brings it here for you to eat." Abraxas says, tilting his chin towards the food on the table, "Personally, I think things are much nicer the way they are. We learn without being distracted, and you get taught things that will find you a job when you leave here. What did you think, that you were going to be an Auror or something?" He snorts, "That's funny, really, Evans. But based on your stories, you do have skill in self-delusion."

"If I call Professor Viridian over, would you say that again? Pleeeeease?" Madeline counters. "About how we're an insult to Hogwarts? Because I'd enjoy that. A lot." She shrugs her shoulders before adding, "Actually, I think I'm gonna be a Curse Breaker. But Rena Odori - she's a Muggleborn - she just made Auror. And Josie Davies father," she nods her head towards the halfblood sitting near the divide between the wizarding-blood kids and the Muggleborns, "He's Muggleborn. He's an Auror too. And of course there's Professor Viridian - you know, we really should invite him over, I think."

"Say what? That I think it's disrespectful of you to refuse to eat the food so generously provided? I think even Professor Dumbledore might agree with me. But it's hardly my job as Prefect to police what you eat, Evans." Abraxas says, seemingly unconcerned about her threat, "As for who has become an Auror lately… Color me unimpressed."

Madeline shrugs her shoulders. "Chief Worthington must have been impressed," she answers. She wishes she could claim she'd met the man - but she never has. Unfortunately.

"Oh, he's a close personal friend of yours, is he?" Abraxas says, with a snort. "Just you wait. Things will be made right in the Ministry, regardless of what happens here." The Malfoy is tormenting Madeline, but he doesn't seem to be doing anything expect talking, standing near her table where she's not eating.

Madeline's not only not eating - her plate is turned upsidedown, as it has been at every meal since the opening feast, four weeks ago. "I think you're wrong about how things are going to turn out. It's sad - your family teaching you to hate folks. That just isn't right."

"Who says I hate anyone?" Abraxas says, snorting again, "I just know where people should be in the pecking order. Magic is for the wizarding world, and muggles should stay in their own world. Muggle-born wizards dilute that. I don't hate you. I just want you gone."

Calista is doing a quick once through, she is actually more away from Slytherin table and off studying the S.C.U.M.s. It is then she comes across Abraxas and Madeline, her eyes dropping to the plate. Then she looks back to the young Prefect. "Good day, Malfroy, Evans." It is amazing how much a littlechange in timber of voice can change from familiar with the young Arbaxas, and cool to the younger Madeline.

"I think you're just mad, still, because you were the first to lose house points," Madeline answers, shrugging her shoulders. "I told you not to. I tried to help you out. It's not my fault you wouldn't listen." She shakes her head as she adds, "And you're being wrong again. We're not going anywhere. Hello Flint!" She greets Calista with cheer. It's forced cheer - but it's cheer.

Abraxas smirks once more, that tight little half-curl of his lip, "Oh, really? The day I need help from you will be a sad day indeed, Evans. And has it occurred to you that the way your House has been acting just proves what we all think about muggle-borns? None of you know how to behave." He turns as Calista greets them, and says, "Flint. Good day."

Calista is lost with what ever the two are talking about, but it does not change her default side. Even though older, she takes a natural position just to the right and behind Abraxas' shoulder. She nods as both greet her, but her attention returns to the flipped plate. "Pardon me for the interuption; I have a question for Evans." she says, and takes a breath. "Why are you not eating Evans? And what are you eating in general?"

Madeline glances around at the 10 or so students seated on the Muggleborn side of the line, then down to the other side of the table, where there's a good 60 more students. Then she turns her attention back to Abraxas. "Did… you never study maths? Or did you never understand logic? See… This is a small number," she gestures to her fellow Muggleborns. "That is a big number," she gestures to the wizarding blood side of the table. "So… how does the behavior of Gryffindor house prove anything about Muggleborns?" She looks between the two purebloods, while putting on her best perplexed expression for a moment. She changes it to a bright smile as she adds, "I'll eat when all students are treated equally, and are attention the same classes, Flint."

"Yes, but it was you muggle-borns and your allies who have acted up. You're so /very/ upset about your special classes that you've reacted in the boorish way one would expect from such." Abraxas looks to Calista and says, "Apparently Evans refuses to eat with the rest of the students. From what I've heard of Muggle history, that means her next step is a blood revolution leading to thousands of innocents dead. It's how they do things."

Terrance slowly made his way into the Great Hall from the entrance hall, his dark eyes fliking around at the tables. As he moved over to the Gryffindor table, he over heard Abraxas talking to Madeline. "Wow Malfoy, I am suprised you know anything about muggle history." he said with a bit of shock before continuing, "But then again I am suprised you know anything." he said before moving to sit beside Madeline at the table, though on the pure-blood and half-blood side of the line. "Evening, Evans." he said with a nod, though did not move to pick up any of the food laid out for the students.

"Don't give him the credit, Green," Madeline answers. "He really doesn't. What he just said was wrong."

Sampson sits rather quietly listening into the conversation with an empty plate of his own out in front of him. For all intents and purposes he's been doing the same sort of hunger strike as Madeline, but irregular meals is nothing new for the boy. He might still look like he hasn't eaten in weeks, but he's got it covered in his own little way. The more depressing it looks the better for the cause, though he's not exactly hurting for most of the food in front of him. The joys of eating before arriving.

Calista takes a step back from the exchange between the two. There is a simple nod to the replies. "You cannot debate with her Malfoy, she is twelve. It is the first year of the new courses, the first month of the first year. She cannot be expected to understand." The soft patient voice is almost to gentle on the ears for a condescending tone, almost. Of course, explaining to Malfoy like Madeline cannot hear them is likely as bad as a sharp tone. Any of that kindness in her tone though vanishes with the other Gryffindor's arrival. She stares at Terrance with a chilling look. "If your input were required you would have been sent for to give it. I was not. See to your tone, we are being civil. Take it as the example it is." she states locking her gaze on Terrance. "What is your name? I do not know you. I am Calista Flint."

"Oh, come now, Evans. You can read, right? The Daily Prophet says they just had a big war twenty years ago. That killed millions of muggles. And I heard that the muggles once cut people's heads off because their blood was too good - whatever that means to muggles. If you think *I* don't know anything, you're just being blind on purpose. Muggle history is written in blood. But if you like them so much, go back and join them." Abraxas says, with a little shrug. "Oh, here comes Green, always trying to be the big man. Is it a jinx that makes excriment spew out of your mouth, or do you do that on purpose?" He listens to Calista, then, and says, "Perhaps your right. Offering wisdom to a muggle-born is like putting a dress on a troll. You waste the dress, and the troll is still hideous."

Turning from Green back to Malfoy, Madeline explains, "Which has nothing to do with hunger strikes. Hunger strikes are a form of peaceful protest - used historically in Great Britain, and currently in use in India to protest British rule. Gandhi uses them. People used to hunger strike in front of the homes of people who had wronged them - to bring attention to the problem. That's what I'm doing.
"It wasn't Muggles that killed people on Diagon Alley over the summer," she adds in a cold voice.

Under his breath the small first year of little note just mutters "@!#!@ gormless bloody bint @$!@" his voice filled with nothing but pure spite. It's actually a bit shocking to be coming from the mouth of such a young boy. He doesn't even look up from the plate with that expression of pure spite across his face.

Terrance gives a laugh as Calista asks for his name and says his input was unneeded. "If I cared who you were, I would have asked." he said in reply. "And as for my mouth Malfoy, it is just when it sees filth like you it cannot help itself." He does not seem to even show sign of anger at their tone or looks. "Now as it appears you two loath the muggleborns, how about doing us all a favor and removing yourselves from the area." he said, holding that wide grin. Not waiting for a retort he looked back to Maddie, "It is so fun to listen to them, thinking they are special because their mommies and daddies tell them so." he told her softly before giving a small chuckle.

Calista's attention shifts back to Madeline, taking the information, processing it. "So, this hunger strike is some way for you to protest not being wanted her." She pauses and gives the sixth year another glare, but she offers no reply. "Thus you will starve yourself to death, and not be here. So, in essence, your appeal is to our better natures, that you are assuming we have? Interesting, and you are taking the side of someone that chose to rebel against the British Empire?" She shakes her head, "All I want to know is what you are eating, Evans? Or do I need to have you taken to be examined? You are too young to starve."
She says, glancing to Malfoy once to see if he has any thing to say about it. The cursing draws her gaze though and a scowl, but she is focused on Evans.

Abraxas screws up his face in an attitude of confusion, "Evans… do you even /listen/ to yourself? First of all, you're not on hunger strike, because you admit you eat, just not here. Second of all, only in the mind of a muggle-born would a single crime be comparable to the deaths of millions. Flint's right, you're not even worth the breath it takes to correct your inane ideas." He walks over towards where Sampson sits and rubs the table with his robe as if it's dirty before he even puts his hand down, "I'm sorry, did you say something? Care to repeat that?" Glancing over at Terrance, he says, "As always, your breeding shows /right/ through, Green. Your filthy friends are rubbing off on you." He explains to Calista, "That's Green, by the way. Half-blood. Gryffindor. Almost as foul mouthed as the firstie here." He motions with his other hand towards Sampson.

"Sampson," Madeline hisses at the boy. "You're just gonna lose us points," and 'prove' their point - as far as the purebloods are concerned. Looks back at Calista, she rolls her eyes. "Does it look like I haven't eaten in four weeks? Heeeeey - maybe that's what I was keeping in my little cloth bag! Food! Real contraband there, right?" No. It wasn't food in the little bag.
"You saw what I eat. I was having a sandwich, remember? With pickles? And my uncle sends me cheese, crackers, nuts, dried fruit, dried sausages… stuff like that.
"There are many kinds of hunger strike. My parents won't let me not eat. They'd pull me out of school."

"And wouldn't /that/ be a shame." Abraxas comments in return.

Sampson sits his head on his hand counting off on his hand, speaking loud enough for him to more clearly hear him "Roit, let's see then since yer deaf, I called 'er a @!#!@ gawmless bloody bint @$!@, but she's also a wazzack mun'er, thuff I supose yew bein' 'er !@#$@'d already know". He's got quite the vocabulary of off the wall language, most of which would be difficult for your average muggle to place let along a pure blood, and yet this time around he just speaks with a calm smile, in a friendly voice that somewhat strangely enough diffuses what he's saying to an extent.

Calista nods to Abraxas as he explains who Green is, this causing the younger student to get another look, then again she looks away back to Malfoy, "To be expected." She states of Terrance, then her attention actualy does pull to the young boy. Her lips draw back in a bit more of a sneer of distaste than anger. She looks up to what ever faculty is observing, or the boy's Prefect to deal with him. Then she looksd back to Madeline. "Fine, Evans. Just don't starve. If you run out of food, inform me and I will arrange for something." She turns and to Malfoy, "I will explain later. Good evening." she says and turns for the door to head out.

"Is that even English? Didn't your parents teach you how to speak properly, Smith?" Abraxas pauses, and then says, "Oh, wait, I suppose not…" A sneer, and then he tilts his head, "Come along, then, let's go speak to one of the Professors. I forsee a scouring spell in your future." He wrinkles his nose, "It's for the best anyway."

"Smith!" Madeline interrupts the boy, trying to get him to stop. "Be quiet!" She's supposed to be the target - not some helplessly little firstie! …then again. If they did do something to a little firstie, in the middle of the Great Hall, in front of the entire school… She glances around the room, then back to Smith and Abraxas and- she's almost disappointed when they don't do anything. Damnit.

Sampson just turns back to the table, not moving. He calmly looks back over towards Madeline. "What'd yew say yew was doin' fer da next 'ogsmead weekend? Have any plans, awer just gon'a stick at school?" Now picking up on the whole act like people aren't even there as well. He's really trying his best here, but there's still plenty of time for Sampson to get better at baiting the bear. Eventually he might even manage to learn a good balance for it. If he's really lucky which he almost never is, he might just get away with some of it.

"I said come along, Sampson." Abraxas says, "You know that you're not supposed to say things like that. Don't make it any worse with disobedience. Or do, if you're feeling like a big man. Personally, I think you're all mouth, no trousers."

"Sampson, you broke the rules. And he's a prefect and in the Magijugend. You have to go with him - or you'll just lose more points," Madeline points out, shrugging her shoulders. "Don't worry. You're in the middle of the Great Hall - he can't do anything to you."

"ow'd anyone ever fnk I'd say somethin' bad abaaaht aaahr purblood overlords?" Sampson acts like he's still not done a thing wrong as he tries to think about what's being said by Madeline, she's been good about this stuff so far, "He said i' 'imself 'e didn't understand if i' was English" He's just got to try and see if he can push it that little bit further, just get someone to make that one mistake and then the house of cards comes tumbling down. "'ave a laugh when people admi' they 'ave no idea what I said, then 'ry an act tuff like they know a single fn' abaaaht what's goin' on like" Sampson actually looks behind himself at the older student who happens to be a prefect " 'ard ter get someone fer sayin' fngs when yew 'aven't da clue what they said ey?"

Sampson says, "e's probably a muggleborn an' all, an' just got 'is parents ter bribe someone ter change some papers"

"Smith, this is your last warning. I am instructing you to come along with me to one of the Professors." Abraxas pushes away from the table, and then says, more quietly, "Someday, you'll learn to regret saying those things. But if you think you're going to make me lose my cool in front of the entire school, you're mistaken. Professor Flint has authorized us to use force as necessary, but with a professor right here… I don't think I'm going to do that." So, Abraxas just turns away, and makes his way towards the head table, doubtless to summon an authority figure.

Gabriel comes back from the loo just in time to hear Abraxas ordering Sampson to follow him. Standing right in the middle of the door to the Great Hall he tilts his head a bit to the side, looking at the tableau curiously, "why does he have to come with you? What did he do? And where are you taking him? How do we know you're not just going to do something mean to him?" Jut curious, really.

Madeline sighs. "March over the Dumbledore and face the music, Smith. It's worse if he drags you to Flint," she reminds the boy. "Better to have detention with Dumbledore than detention with Pringle or Ogg."
She looks up at Gabriel, shaking her head slightly. "He put his foot right in it, Gunny. And it's not like he's leaving the Great Hall with Malfoy."

Sampson turns off from the table, kicking his feet back over and coming back to a stand. Instead of fallowing the prefect he does just what the second year says and starts heading for Dumbledore, and the staff table. He's just trying to make a beeline for it so that he can admit to his own crimes.

Abraxas is already walking towards the professors, and so doesn't stop to banter with Gabriel, who is calling out from behind him. He's got a head start, and longer legs, so will probably make it first, and he's heading right for the center of the table.

Gabriel frowns a bit as Abraxas ignores him. Going back to the Ravenclaw table he sits down so that he's close enough to talk to Madeline, "So what'd Sampson say? Is it a fair call or are the Magidunderheads taking advantage of things to create spurious charges?"

"I'm not allowed to say those words," Madeline murmurs back to Gabriel. "Mum'd wash out my mouth." So. Yeah. It's a fair call. "How upset do you think the Captain would get if I started actually not eating one day a week?" she asks the other boy softly.

Eventually, Abraxas reaches the head table, near Professor Flint. There is some quiet talking after he approaches, and an indication at the heading-towards-somebody-else Sampson. Sooner or later, they all no doubt arrive at near the same place, and there is more quiet talking. Surely whatever is said will come out later, in the common room.

Gabriel sighs, "Why'd he do that? And yes, Not eating for a whole day every week would just make you sick. Get sick enough, you'll end up at the Hospital Wing being force fed." All this is said in low voices meant not to carry past himself and maybe his closest table neighbors.

"I don't know. It's Smith. Why's he do anything he does?" Madeline answers Gabriel. "And I'm not sure it would. I mean - there's folks who go on hunger strikes for months, you know. Really not eating anything at all for months. I mean, some of them die when they do that, and I wouldn't never do anything that crazy, but…" Once a week! How could that do any harm?

Abraxas might, possibly, look a little smug as he finishes dealing with the Professor and Sampson at the head table. Then again, he always looks at least a /little/ smug. He makes his way down the row of tables.

Gabriel rolls his eyes a bit, taking advantage of the fact that most of his face is facing away from Madeline, "Yes. But people like that aren't growing. You need more food than an adult and more consistently."

Madeline gets a thoughtful look on her features. "I could eat after curfew," she muses. "At the end of the day. And before I go down for the day. And just not eat for the rest of it. Once a week. I don't think it'd make me sick." She doesn't think it'd make any difference either, is the real problem.

After a fair bit of talking and murmuring, and general discussion, Sampson eventually makes his way back to the table. He doesn't look phased in the slightest by what's just happened, offering a small look towards the slytherin prefect's back, cracking for a moment with that kind of spite that should really be reserved for someone who killed your cat and not someone who was just doing their job. He makes his way back over to his spot in the muggleborn section, sitting down as if nothing really happened.

Gabriel sighs but drops the topic as Sampson returns to the table. Leaning back from the Ravenclaw table to the Gryffindor table he asks, "why'd you do it, Smith?"

Abraxas heads back in the direction of the Slytherin table, but decides to take the long way around, walking right past the Gryffindors. Of course, he can't see the bolts of hatred tossed at his back, but he does give Madeline and Terrance a little waggle-fingered wave as he moves past them and back to his seat. "So, what was for dessert?" he asks of his housemates, since he had promised them he would be back.

Madeline rolls her eyes at Abraxas, but doesn't comment. "You missed Malfoy saying that after hunger strikes, Muggles always move on to bloody revolutions with pitchforks and torches and such," Madeline murmurs to Gabriel. "It was pretty funny."

Sampson tries to speak rather confidently trying his best not to let the point deduction or the upcoming issues get to him. "cause I'm not afraid ov 'im awer anyone else" He leans back towards a normal seating position, muttering to himself, "We could use one, cleanse some bad blood"

It was a while later, after talking with other fellow Gryffindors, that Terrance let his attention be drawn over to Abraxas, "Oh good work, Malfoy. Your mommy and daddy would be oh so proud. Becoming the perfect little git." he murmured under his breath, but just loud enough for the Gryffindor Muggleborns and nearby pure-bloods to hear, and returned the wave with a smile.

Gabriel shrugs, "It not just Muggle-born. Its any group that's trod upon and abused. Look at the goblins. How many revolts have they had, because wizarding society abuses them and treats them badly? The time will come when the peaceful options will not work and them we might have to use the violent options. But we need to try all the peaceful options first."

Madeline shakes her head, looking uncertain and unhappy Sampson and Gabriel start talking about violent resistance. "We wouldn't need to do any of that if everyone would just do the hunger strike. Everyone who's opposed. If everyone would just sit out the Quidditch season - and refuse to fly in the games. It'd work, I'm sure of it," she insists. "And we should try it. Doing anything before we do that - even talking about doing anything before we do that - is just silly."

Oh, look, there's cake. Abraxas helps himself to a pleasantly-sized slice, and another glass of cold pumpkin juice, and begins to slice off edible-sized pieces of the cake with his fork as he speaks quietly to the other Slytherins.

If there's anything happening that a Gryffindor should notice, well, Angelus doesn't! He's so absorbed in his lovely meal, delicious meal. Though his blue eyes might flick down the table, and he might smirk and roll his eyes, he sighs and returns to his meal. Why does his House have to be so embarrassing?

Gabriel shakes his head, "Sorry, Mad. B they've played their hand too well. You're no going to get /everyone/ to do what needs to be done for as long as it needs to be done. And it doesn't seem like the adults outside of the school are having a whole lot of luck overturning Flint's policies. So, we need to make plans. Hope for the best, plan for the worst." He continues to keep his voice low enough only the people one or two places away from himself or Madeline should be able to hear.

Sampson speaks somewhat more quietly, trying to just speak to the small group as he says "If we don't push back they'll never stop pushing, we need ter be da ones ter do a pr-prem-pre-premt…" He gets stuck on that word for a bit longer then seems reasonable at first, just trying his hardest to get the pronunciation of a word he's only ever read about prooving harder then it's worth "Da ones ter strike first," He's now speaking very quietly just loud enough to be heard by maybe the person he's trying to talk to,"Clean aaaht 'em befawer they can do da same ter all ov us"

Madeline looks between Sampson and Gabriel. "This is stupid, you're both being idiots, and I wouldn't have thought that of you, Gabriel Ward." Madeline scowls at her friend disapprovingly. "We haven't even properly tried yet - and I won't have any part in any violent plans. That'll just get us all kicked out of the school. It'll prove them right! We have to be good. We have to be the victims. That's the only way to fix it. I thought everyone saw that?" The girl struggles to keep her voice soft as she talks. "I won't have any part in hurting anyone."

If Abraxas weren't two tables away from the Gryffindor's, he might be able to hear and put some sort of end to their talk, but he's blissfully eating his cake amid the din and hub-bub of the Great Hall at mealtime. So he just continues to discuss the chances for the next season of pro Quiddich with the Slytherins.

As Angelus stuffs his mouth with what's on his plate, his blue eyes catch sight of… Ooh! The youth swallows and reaches out for fudge, abandoning his fairly empty plate for the treats. Leaning backward, the youth peers down behind the backs of his fellow housemates to the discussion. Okay, he really wants to hear what's being spoken about. He frowns, tilting his head.

"What are you doing, Eibon?"

Heaving out a sigh, Gel shakes his head and sits straight again, stuffing his mouth with more fudge.

Gabriel turns around to fully look at Madeline, frowning, You are just /not/ listening, are you? I'm not talking about doing it now. I'm just saying that you have to plan for contingencies. Right now, your plans are /not/ working. You've been trying to convince people to join your hunger strike for weeks. With no success. Its time to try something new. Come up with new plans. And then we have to have plans in case those plans fail. And ultimately, if we don't get this solved before the year is out, at least I'm going to ask my parents to send me to the school in Salem, in the USA." He manages to keep his voice low but his frustration with his friend and her fixation with a hunger strike finally comes out in the speed, if not the volume of his speech.

"And I think even talking about it is stupid," Madeline shoots back hotly. "It's just gonna make things get… worse. It's gonna prove them right about us. And I won't have any part, so you go ahead and be an idiot if you want to." She wants to shout at Gabriel. She wants to throw her plate! …she wants to cry. Rising abruptly to her feet, she turns to join the students who've already started making their way from the Great Hall.

Abraxas finishes his cake and washes it down, then dabs his lips with a napkin. "Alright, chaps, I'll see you in the common later. I have to stop and check for a book in the library and then do some patrol time." He nods to the others at his table.

Angelus' gaze slides down his table again, frowning as he tilts his head. What is being said? He stuffs some more fudge into his mouth before he sings his legs over the bench. He stops and crouches down beside where Gabriel sits, arching a brow at the boy. "What's going on?" he asks quietly.

Gabriel watches Madeline go, all but growling at himself in frustration. But at this point making a scene would just make things worse so instead he turns to Angelus as he crouches next to him, "A philosophical disagreement. Nothing more."

Madeline abruptly breaks into a run just before the doors, and makes herself scarce as quickly as possible. "Hey - Evans?" a concerned voice calls after her from one of the students she hurries past, but it's ignore.
It may have been a bit more than a 'philosophical disagreement.'

Angelus rolls his eyes and sighs, bringing his fingers to his forehead as he lowers his head. Well! As Angelus stands, he reaches out to tap Gabriel on the shoulder before heading out. Might as well go find his housemate!

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