(1939-12-16) Who Wears the Crown
Details for Who Wears the Crown
Summary: Angelus approaches Elspeth to have a simple talk. Abraxas enters, followed by Madeline, and things turn around for the worst.
Date: December 16, 1939
Location: Library, Hogwarts

Angelus is seated at one of the tables in the library, a book opened on top with a parchment. He’s working on schoolwork, this Monday evening, dinner just around the corner. As he takes a break from the book on the table, Gel releases a breath as he sits back in the chair, tapping a single finger against the edge of the table as he glances around.

Elspeth has been seeking out the books she needs, and reads the insert of the top one as she shuffles slowly from between two stacks. She pauses to cover a little yawn, then opens her eyes slightly wider as she stares down at the page, then focuses once more to finish reading.

As Angelus’ gaze sweeps over Elspeth, a hum escapes the boy. Shifting in his seat, he considers as he regards her quietly. A light twitch flickers at his lips, his fingers lifting to rub across his mouth thoughtfully. Smirking, Gel ends up setting his quill down and standing, leaving his things at the table as he slowly, hesitatingly, approaches Elspeth. “R-Rosen,” he says, rather uncertain of himself than his usual surety.

Finishing her perusal and seemingly satisfied with her choice, Elspeth closes the cover of the book and makes the turn towards the next stacks, to find an Angelus approaching. She blinks again, and nods her head towards him. "Eibon," she greets politely, shifting the books in front of her so that she can hug them in a more comfortable position. "Can I be helping you?"

Angelus starts by shifting his position, his head lifting in his usual superior way. Except that on a snort, this stance fades and the youth simply sighs. No. He shakes his head. “What?” he says, as nearly misses her question as he blinks. He draws in a breath, shifting on his feet as he frowns pensively. “Yes. Maybe.” He lowers his head and steps past her, moving into the start of the stacks so that he’s less visible. He turns to the shelf to idly fiddle with the spine of one of the books.

Elspeth frowns slightly when Angelus drops his posture, but smoothes it over quickly. Glancing around the library, she casually steps into the row, looking up along a row of books just slightly above her head. She doesn't prompt him verbally, but waits a step away from him, refraining from pushing him with eye contact either.

Angelus takes a bit to speak again, frowning at the book he fiddles with as he thinks. Eventually he draws in a breath and turns to look at Elspeth, humming quietly as he considers. “Well, last time I came to you for help you tricked me,” he says, his frown deepening. “But you’re also the only Muggle-born that can actually think. Maybe, we’ll see,” he adds in sceptically. “How come you can act civil even when you know somebody doesn’t want you around?” There’s a short pause as he eyes the sixth year, and then lets out a sigh and quickly adds in, “Don’t, uh- Don’t take offense. Please.”

Elspeth raises an eyebrow at the claim of her tricking him, perhaps trying to allude without words to the fact that he was actually lying to her when he came to her for help. However, his actual question brings her eyebrows back down together, then the expression relaxes, and she gives him a slight chuckle. "In case you are not realizing, Eibon, I am being a stubborn person sometimes." She shifts her feet and lets out a breath as she considers. "If someone is not wanting me around, then it is most likely being because they are assuming something bad about me. If I am being rude to them, then I am proving to them that they are right in thinking that I am bad company." She gives him grin that is accompanied by a true twinkle in her eye. "The last thing I am wanting to do is to be proving to someone that that they are being right, that I am being bad company."

A snort escapes the boy and he can’t help but mutter, “Not as stubborn as Evans.” Angelus clears his throat and pulls his thoughts away from Madeline. “Heh,” he lets out, “that’s a good answer.” A small smile flicks out. “There is worst company than you, Rosen.” It’s a genuine compliment, his shoulders shrugging lightly. “Many others, Muggle-born,” he states simply, “they’re making,” he gestures dismissively through the air, “your status look bad.” He frowns and gauges her quietly as he asks, “Can you tell me what you think about the pure families? You’re friends with my brother, you must have a pretty good understanding,” he explains.

A brief smile flickers as Angelus admits that there actually are people out there that are worse than her. She nods her head with a quiet "thank you." She does manage to maintain a neutral expression when he talks of others of her status with relative ease. "What I think?" Elspeth considers for a long moment. "I am thinking of pure families the same way I am thinking of everyone else. Some are having merits, and some are not." She pulls the inside of her bottom lip between her teeth as she looks at the Gryffindor for a moment, then she shifts and leans one shoulder against the upright support of the bookshelf. "There is being no way to make all pure families be alike, any more than there is being any way to make all muggle-borns be alike. So I am not trying to treat them as if they are being cookie cutter copies of each other. Some pure bloods are being pleasant, some are not. Some muggle borns are being pleasant, some are not. For me, it is being as simple as that." She exhales without the volume to actually call the response a snort. "For me. I am knowing it is not being that simple for others."

Angelus lets her answer without interruption. He asked her; he lets her explain. He nods slowly in acknowledgement, but frowning as he regards her. After a moment of considering, running his fingers over his lips as he hums, Gel tilts his head and sighs softly. “Did my brother never explain anything to you? I thought…” He hums as he pauses. “I thought maybe you understood how he felt. You can’t really be friends unless you did, after all.”

"Well, friends are sometimes knowing a lot about each other, and some things not at all," Elspeth replies with a little smile. "It is depending on what you are talking about how he is feeling about what." Then she can't help but chuckle. "You are being his brother. You are knowing how he is being about explaining things."

This brings out a snort from Angelus. “To me,” he mutters with a roll of his eyes. “You know we don’t get along.” The youth turns his head and fixes a gaze on the books beside him on the shelves, once again fiddling with his fingers on the spine of a single book. “That’s a shame,” Gel sighs out, closing his eyes as he lowers his chin.

Abraxas walks into the library and then makes his way over towards the Librarian's desk to consult with Madame Patil. "Good evening." he says, getting a polite, "Good evening, Malfoy." He explains that he's looking for books on South America's magical world - beasts, sights, that sort of thing. The ever-prepared librarian consults the card catalogue and gives him a few leads for where to look.

Tilting her head to the side, Elspeth looks at Angelus, and considers for a long moment. "Why is that?" she asks. "I am knowing that you are not getting along, but I have never really been knowing why." Whatever he finds to be a shame seems to go over her head in her curiosity.

Angelus shifts his gaze away from the books, looking back to Elspeth. He snorts in response to her question. “”Cause he doesn’t want to,” he answers simply, and yet with hint of bitterness. He eyes Elspeth before giving his head a shake. “He’s my brother - I want to get along.” He lets out a sigh. “But we just don’t see eye to eye.” Then he falls silent, his eyes drifting from Elspeth as he thinks before a smirk touches his lips. “He used to let me follow him around. Then at one point he just started pushing me away.” He can’t remember the age, or why they stopped playing together, just that they were younger.

Abraxas makes his way through the reading room and to the stacks with the scrap of parchment with the books he's looking for held in one hand. He hears Angelus's voice as he rounds a corner and stops. Glancing up at the label on that particular row, then down at the slip of paper he holds, then squares his shoulders and strides into that particular row. He doesn't say a word yet, but he isn't making a secret of his presence, either.

Elspeth nods. "Well, he has never been saying anything to me about that. I am not having any siblings of my own, so I am not knowing what it is being like…" she trails off and shrugs once. She turns slightly as Abraxas enters the row, and tips her head to acknowledge another prefect. "Malfoy," she says quietly, shifting the books in her arms slightly.

Despite not being a Ravenclaw - Madeline does seem to spend a lot of time in the library. The girl makes her way in, returning a book she'd borrowed with a cheery, "This one was really interesting!" But it still didn't have the spell she was looking for. She turns to start wandering through the aisles, hoping the book she needs will just jump out at her. It's possible, right?

"Rosen." Abraxas says, before starting up a ladder to get a book off one of the upper shelves. When he finds it, he blows the dust off to reveal 'Feathered Serpents and Mystical Beasts of the Amazon' by Preston Pickwick. He starts to carry the tome down. He must see Angelus, but he doesn't say a word.

“Well it’s great with May,” Angelus returns, a genuine smile fluttering across his face. “I’m glad I have her as a sister.” He pauses briefly, looking down briefly as he thinks. A ‘heh’ escapes him as a half-smile flicks at his lips. “I guess I’m happy to have an older brother - if he’d pay more attention to me. Well, thank you for answering my questions,” he says. Angelus’ blue eyes shift as he looks up to find Abraxas nearby. Instantly he smirks and he brings his head up, giving the fifth year a superior look as he arches a brow. “What were you saying about unpleasant pure families, Rosen?” Smiling smugly, he turns to her and lowers his head to her.

Rounding a corner, Madeline is faced with Abraxas, Elspeth, and Angelus. She blinks once - then greets the Ravenclaw with a bright smile. "Hello, Elspeth!" Abraxas gets a more reserved, "Malfoy," with a polite smile. She moves into the aisle, waiting to see if any books will helpfully throw themselves at her - none do. So she grabs one at random instead.

Hey, it could work!

"She is being sweet," Elspeth agrees about Megan, then glances between the two purebloods. She knits her brows, but then shakes her head once. "I was saying that I am not making all pure families bad, as not all pure families are being bad," she replies to Angelus with easy neutrality, steering away from being drawn into whatever quarrel the two blonds may be having. "Hullo, Madeline." A nod is offered to the younger year as she pushes against her shoulder to straighten. "I need to be checking these books out before dinner. I am bidding you all good day." Her nod to all three is rather impartial, not giving any of them extra deference in her leavetaking.

Abraxas comes down the ladder with the book under his arm, "Is that your usual half-witted attempt at an insult, Eibon? The problem is that if I push back, you'll just skulk off, to whine and gnash your teeth about how nobody understands how hard it all is for you." He rolls his eyes. With a more pleasant nod, he says, with neutral social courtesy, "Enjoy your reading, Rosen." Madeline's tone is greeted in much the same way, "Evans."

“I never really thought about a Malfoy as mental before,” Angelus continues on in his smug, taunting tone to Elspeth. He doesn’t even acknowledge that Abraxas is there. “But I guess all families can’t be like ours.” Gel ignores the previous conversation that he was having with Elspeth, just simply nods. His eyes flick to Abraxas when he speaks, but the older boy simply receives a conceited curl of his lips before he turns his head in purposeful snub. Lifting a hand to slide his fingers along the spines of the books as he begins to walk, as his eyes land on Madeline, Angelus laughs. An amused, hearty laugh - a good, long while - apparently something is funny. “Oh, how equals tend to draw each other together.” He does not elaborate on this comment, just picks his chin up and continues to walk along the aisle.

"I liked the worm in the middle of the apple one," Madeline contributes helpfully. "That was a good one." Yes - liked it. She was a little proud of the insult. She flicks her book open, calling over towards Elspeth as the girl prepares to leave - "I got a letter from Asher - he says Miriam's really excited about Hanukkah. I am too!" She beams at the other student, before looking down at the page in front of her. …damn. It doesn't have the spell she wants.

Abraxas seems to pay Eibon little mind as he heads down the ladder and gets back to the floor, then rests his shoulder on the ladder and puts the book down. "You know, Eibon, for a second-rate member of a second-rate family, you certainly talk a good game. But I'm afraid you haven't learned the art of the good insult. You see, that fake laugh of yours is a clear signal that you just said something only you find amusing. And I would tell you to go ahead and draw your wand, but first, you're too much of a coward to do it and second, you'd probably just hurt yourself. Besides, I wouldn't lower myself to duel you, traitor." He flicks a bit of lint off his robe in intentional dismissal.

"Well, even if he drew his wand, he wouldn't use it," Madeline interjects helpfully. She remembers that quite clearly.

Abraxas rolls his eyes, "He'll probably break this one, too. Or maybe a girl will snap it over that thick head of his." This may be the first time Abraxas and Madeline have ever agreed on something.

Angelus taps his fingers lightly against every second book, humming quietly as he walks carelessly away from Abraxas. Only he can’t really ignore the comment about his family, he just can’t, so he coolly turns around to slide his gaze back onto the Slytherin prefect. “I’m not too worried about the opinion of a fool.” He flicks his blue eyes from the older boy to Madeline, smirking. “Nor,” he says as he raises his voice a bit, inclining his chin, “do I need to draw my wand to prove myself. I’m an Eibon,” he says on an air of amusement, “and you’re a… Malfoy,” he says as he turns his thumb down to the floor. “Does that show you the rankings?” He rolls his eyes and turns away again. “K-I-N-G. My father wears the crown,” he says as he walks, chin tilted importantly.

Madeline just starts to giggle quietly at Angelus' bravado - and flips to another random page in the book. Darn - it's not there, either. She turns to the back, looking for an index. "Do you know any spells that make lots of spheres or balls?" she asks Malfoy, apparently forgetting about Angelus already.

If the winner is measured by who holds the field at the end, Abraxas is standing his ground, "As I thought, all mouth, no trousers." He shakes his head, and then calls to Angelus, "Hey, Eibon, I hope Madame Spleen is making some progress." Then, he nods to Madeline, "Yes. The bubble producing spell. They use it to decorate the yule trees, sometimes."

Angelus pauses briefly to look back over his shoulder. He considers briefly, shifting on his feet, and a tilted smile slips against his lips as he glances at Madeline, and then to Abraxas. “Well if Evan’s bird was here, there might be a spell I’d like to cast on it.” He lets out a breath on a sneer. “Thank you, Malfoy,” he says, curling his lip. As he turns on his departure again, he lifts a hand to casually knock a knuckle against the books.

"Oh, well, yeah. But I more meant… not bubbles. Like, if I had a lot of clay, and I wanted to turn it into a pile of balls," Madeline explains, beaming with eager and utterly innocent curiosity. Yes. No reason to worry about this spell at all - though as Angelus brings up her bird, she turns her head to glare at his back. If he does anything to Mischief…!

"Hopefully she'll eventually figure out how to dispel that confundus charm." Abraxas says, casually, in reference to Madame Spleen, "That's the only explanation for the fantasy world you live in, where you're important and charming, women don't hate you, and people respect you or care what you say." To Madeline, he says, "Apparently the sword the Eibons were bred to is rusty. Or perhaps made of paper." A little shrug. Then to Eibon again, "Go ahead, Eibon. Try and cast a spell. Your spellwork is as weak as your repartee, only far more entertaining to watch."

“But there’s no bird,” announces Angelus as he spins, his hands spreading out. With the distance he put between Madeline and Abraxas, he’s raised his voice a little more that even gets a ‘shh’ from out at the tables. “Or maybe we can just vanish Madeline. Ooh!” He exclaims in mock excitement, his eyes widening. “That would be grand. One less Muggle-born in our school. No, think bigger.” He tilts his head back to the ceiling as his hands spread out in front of him as if he were holding an invisible ball. “Rozenblats can use her ‘special’ spell when it counts and get rid of one terrible Auror in the wizarding world.”

Madeline frowns. "You shouldn't joke about that, Eibon," she says in a flatly disapproving tone. "I can't even believe you. What if Rozenblats heard you say something like that? It'd hurt her and you know it - or you're dumber than I thought, even." She rolls her eyes and looks back to her book.

Abraxas's lips draw into a thin line. Any hint of teasing is gone from his voice as he says, quietly, "You've really gone round the bend, Eibon. That's completely mental." He steps up to the younger boy, and says, "Maybe you need to go talk to Professor Pettigrew."

Angelus glances down his nose at Madeline with a twist of his lips. “Joke?” he lets out on a chuckle. “Maybe. You can run along and write that to her, too.” His blue eyes shift to Abraxas, his chest swelling as he lets out a ‘hah!’ “Can’t think of any other intelligent insults, Malfoy?” He tilts his head as a condescending smile slides across his lips. “Yes, well, you can go find Pettigrew and have her come get me. A royal Star certainly has his subjects brought to him.” He bobs his head, smiling sweetly to Abraxas as he slides a hand out beside him, bowing his head mockingly before he turns to walk.

"I'm not petty," Madeline answers. Angelus thinks she's petty! Besides, if she told anyone Angelus said that - well. It would just be all the more likely to get back to Valda, and she doesn't want that.

"No, Eibon. I'm not joking. You've crossed a line." Abraxas says, archly, "Using the killing curse is unforgivable. And then saying it should be used against an Auror. You show the same sort of disrespect for our wizarding traditions as you do for women, or for your word, or for anything approaching a shred of honor. You really are deluded." He shakes his head again, lip curling. "Now, then, come with me."

“I don’t know what you are, Evans,” Angelus retorts, letting out a snort. But he continues to walk, pausing only to glance to Abraxas with a sneering smile. “Now you want me to be sniveling? To you?” The youth laughs and shakes his head slowly. “Goodbye, Malfoy.” And he turns away to continue walking.

"I'm the worm in the middle of the apple," Madeline supplies 'helpfully' for Angelus, before looking towards Abraxas. "Do you suppose he forgot you're a Prefect? 'Course we could always tell her he didn't listen to a Prefect - then he gets in even bigger trouble."

Abraxas holds his hands out in an 'I tried' sort of gesture, "Fine, then, Eibon. Suit yourself." Abraxas collects his book, and says, "Good day, Evans." And then he heads off, to seek out Professor Pettigrew, or at least a Gryffindor Prefect.

And Angelus continues to walk on with a smug smile, head held up in the air.

"Bye, Malfoy," Madeline answers. She looks after Angelus - who still doesn't seem to be following Abraxas - and shakes her head disbelievingly before looking back down at her book. His daddy really oughtta use a belt on him or something.

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