(1939-10-08) Places To Hide
Details for Places To Hide
Summary: Angelus and Hattie meet among the suits of armour in the gallery.
Date: October 8, 1939
Location: Armour Gallery, Hogwarts

Hattie moves from one end of the gallery to the other, but slowly, so slowly. As though to supress the sound of her shoes on the stone, hollow as a coin dropped into a well at the end of the world. Book in hand, she reads on her way to the corridor.

Angelus is carrying his book strap down beside him as he veers off from the corridor, darting into the armour gallery. He halts suddenly with a gasp when he nearly runs into Hattie, clearing his throat as he draws back a step. “Wilkins,” Angelus announces his presence with his greeting. His head lifts and a warm smile flashes across his face. “Must be an interesting read.”

"Eibon," Wilkins says politely by way of greeting, her brown eyes lifting briefly from the page. "It must be, or else they probably wouldn't require it," she says, not without humor. The cover closes in her fingers with a low thump, blue house ribbon marking her place. "Late for a very important date?"

“Oh.” Angelus nods, though his eyes flick to the book as she closes it, craning his head for a chance to glimpse the title. Amusement flickers in his eyes as he moves them back to the girl’s face. He shakes his head in quick answer, smirking. “No,” he says on a chuckle. “No. I’m just… getting away from the crowd. You know?” He tilts his head lightly, his smile twitching as he watches the fifth year. “You’re heading out for something in particular?”

A tiny shake of her head. "Just… pacing." The book cover itself proclaims itself to be a title on the Defense Against the Dark Arts reading list. "It feels safe here. I like the way it sounds. I can walk on, though, if you like?" she asks, her glance drawn to the hallows swinging in such a jolly fashion from around his neck.

“I see,” Gel lets out as he bobs his head. A ‘heh’ escapes the youth as he glances back at the door, his shoulders flicking back in a simple shrug. A hum escapes the boy as he studies Hattie curiously. “You don’t feel safe in the rest of the castle?” he asks, tilting his head as both his eyebrows rise. Angelus lifts a hand to slide it quickly through the air. “Oh, no, no, don’t leave on my account. I’m not against company.” A single brow twitches upward as he glances down briefly, noticing her gaze dropping. He frowns, if only briefly, before he offers out a hand to her. “I don’t think we’ve ever formally met. A shame, that.” A light chuckle escapes the blonde haired Gryffindor. “You should definitely stay. Now is the perfect time for us to chat for once.” He offers out a smile.

Hattie lifts her eyes away, lays her book against her side with her arm, and twiddles her hand in the air; side to side to side to side, in a flutter. "I wouldn't say unsafe. Not really," she says as she makes a slow turn, shoes scraping in the dust on the floor. "Maybe it’s just that this hall feels lonely, and watchful because of the suits. I wouldn't do a jitterbug in here, you understand, but… Anyway I had no idea you felt the lack of the association. Enchante," she says jokingly, and presents her free hand, arm extended, palm down, fingers wiggling for a moment. "Harriet Wilkins, how-do?"

Angelus watches Hattie as she speaks, nodding slowly as his smile twitches. He shifts the hand holding his book strap, bringing it to rest the strap over his shoulder. “It’s a good place to think,” he says after considering with a glance around. His fingers close around her hand when hers is extended, a twinkle flashing in his eyes as he grins. “Pretty name,” he remarks, lifting her hand and bowing his head, intending to brush his lips over her knuckles. “You can call me Gel,” he offers as he lifts his eyes to her. He glances towards the armour set around the room before glancing to her again. “There are a lot of places one might be hiding here.”

"Is it?" Hattie asks with a light laugh. "Maybe that's why no one calls me by it. You may feel free to use 'Hattie,' Gel." She cocks her head and looks around once as though any and every wall conceals a secret; which they do. "Wretched that I have nothing to hide, isn't it. What do you suggest?"

“Why not?” Angelus asks curiously, quirking a brow. “A pretty name suits a pretty face,” he comments lightly, flashing a dazzling smile as he tips his head a little to one side. A chuckle escapes the youth as he glances around at the suit of armours again, a little grin snaking across his face. “No? Nothing?” questions the boy as he tilts his head. He gestures outward with a single hand briefly. “Everyone has something they don’t want the rest of the school finding out about.” But he merely shrugs, letting the strap slip off his shoulder as he takes his books in his hands. “I was thinking of getting a little study time in for potions before I have a club meeting.”

Hattie makes a show of pretending to turn out pockets on her uniform that simply aren't there. "I knew I was doing something dreadfully wrong," she quips, and with her slow steps begins on toward the main stair. "Potions? Oh, that's ever so much better than DADA. You only have to follow directions. Do we part ways here, then?"

Angelus smirks as the youth tips his head back, lifting his chin. A brow lifts as he regards Hattie, letting out a hum before his grin widens appreciatively. “It’s definitely one of the more fascinating classes,” he agrees and adds in, “maybe you should drop in to one of my potions gathering. It’s really just a bunch of us getting together to do schoolwork, helping out who needs to be helped.” He shrugs lightly, and then nods his head once. “It was nice to actually have a chance to chat with you,” says the youth, smile slipping out. “Hopefully I’ll get another chance.” He steps closer to her, lifting her hand to beckon her nearer as if was going to whisper to her, only to instead kiss her cheek. “See you around, Hattie.”

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