(1939-12-17) A Bit of Tea
Details for A Bit of Tea
Summary: Angelus is a little down after the letter from home, Angus makes tea, and Madeline works on a project.
Date: December 17, 1939
Location: Gryffindor Common Room

Angelus is sitting in the common room, off to the side near a window. One leg is dangling over the side with his other one pulled up, an arm circled lightly around near the ankle. In his other hand he holds a letter, the ends curling in on themselves as he ignores it now, his head rested upon his knee as he stares out onto the grounds below.

Angus swans briskly in. Now, there is a very particular smell to Pegasus manure. And yes, there it is. There it all is. Not precisely dirty… but agricultural. "Och, hey there!"

Madeline comes down the stairs - bouncing two at a time - with a wooden box in her hands. "Hey, Angus," she greets the boy brightly, before making her way to one of the tables, setting down her book bag next to her.

Angelus is lost in his own thoughts. As a result, he barely reacts even as he sniffs the air unconsciously. Eventually he does stir though, when he registers that something is different, and blinks as he looks away from the window. “What is that smell?” he asks aloud before he catches sight of Angus. “Hey, mate,” he greets with a nod. His eyes flick towards Madeline, and then away, looking back to the window.

Angus shrugs, "Dinnae ken! Anyone wants some tea? It's bloody cold oot there!"

"I'd love some tea," Madeline answers brightly - not seeming at all bothered by the smell. She's a farm girl, after all. It smells fresh and earthy to her! Once settled into her seat, Madeline pulls out her wand and touches it to a line drawn onto the surface of the wooden box. "Insculpo," she intones, as she begins carving the wood.

Angelus watches the grounds for several seconds before glances over to Angus, letting out a hum as he arches a brow. Then as if hearing his question for the first time, shakes his head. “No, thank you,” he murmurs. Looking down to the parchment in his hand, he shifts his position - lowering his leg - as he rolls up the letter and tucking it away into his robes.

Angus gives a nod, and goes to put the kettle on, "Aye. Wheel, hoo you feelin', Eibon? Has it stopped hurrting yet, aye?" It's said with a tone of friendly enquiry. Because, y'know, Angus is pretty much universally friendly. Especially to dumb animals.

Has what stopped hurting, Madeline has to wonder. She glances over at Angus and Angelus for a scant moment - then quickly back to her work as she continues carving out wood shavings, turning the round jewelry box into what appears to be the shape of an African tribal mask.

For one moment Angelus lets the question hang, and then smirks as he gives a shake of his head. “No,” he answers - but to what he might be answering might not be what Angus is talking about. But the boy doesn’t elaborate; instead he looks back to the window.

Angus gives a shrug, "Aye? Wheel, she didnae look like she put her back intae it, so should improve soon." He peers at the kettle. Which of course, refuses to boil. "Or yehs could go doon tae the infurmary tae get it looked at."

What is Angus going on about? Madeline gives him another quick look, but she can't turn her attention from her carving for long. Not like she can just erase it if her wand carves in the wrong direction. She wishes he would expand - but she doesn't exactly intend to ask, either. Not in front of Eibon, anyways.

Angelus’ head inclines as he looks back at Angus, his lips twitching lightly. “Sierra’s punch has been long since remedied,” he informs, cocking his head lightly as he regard Angus, and then drawing his gaze away again. For several more seconds he watches the grounds, and doesn’t take his eyes away when he asks, “Have you been practicing lately on your broom?”

Angus shrugs, "Och, just most days, y'ken?" He gives a grin, "It's no _practice_ so much as throwing some acrobaticcs, y'ken?"

Punch? Madeline giggles quietly as she works. Aww - why'd she have to go and miss a thing like tha- Her pleased smile abruptly turns into a frown. Oh, what would her mum say if she knew she was delighting in someone getting hit? She wouldn't be pleased at all.

Angelus nods silently as he watches out the window. When he looks away from the grounds again, he hums as he glances around the room. “What’s that sport Muggles play? With their fists?” He lifts his fists in front of his face to jab the air with them in imitation. He’s asking the room in general - he’s sure someone would know.

Angus wraps the bottom of his robe around his hand to retrieve the kettle from the fire, "Boaxing? Is that fit yehs mean?"

Madeline doesn't much care for boxing herself - it's even worse than wizard duels! So she continues to stay out of the conversation, as she carves around the eyes of the mask, and adds in a few swirling designs, wood shavings falling around her.

Angelus nods. “Yes, that. You know how to go boxing?” He gives Angus a general interest. He does not bother glancing over to Madeline.

Angus shrugs, "In theory. It's nae hoo I fight, y'ken? They have this funny idea boot no hittin' below the belt, y'ken?"

"Punch the other guy until he falls down," Madeline mutters quietly to herself. She really doesn't care for boxing, it seems. Not that she's ever seen an actual boxing event.

A hum escapes from Angelus as he nods. A flicker flutters along his lips at Angus. “I suppose some people would rather just have a brawl.” He rises now, showing no notice of Madeline even when she mutters something. “I think having a little rules in a sport is a good thing - it keeps order. It makes the sport, well, less maniac.”

Angus grins, as he pours the water into the teapot, "Less fun, yeh mean? Next you'll say you shouldnae grab hold o' someone elses broom in Quidditch."

Lifting her wand from her work, Madeline blows away the woodshavings, then eyes her progress with satisfaction. It looks pretty good, she decides, as she rubs her finger along one of the grooves. Speaking the spell word again, she resumes carving.

Angelus smirks in response to Angus’ remark, letting out a chuckle. “We can win by playing by the rules, mate,” comments the youth. As he walks across the commons, he reaches into his robes to adjust something in one of his pockets when a chained, small golden ball falls to the floor and rolls. Leaning to the side as he tilts his head, his blue eyes follow it to where it rolls to a stop underneath Madeline’s chair. So he approaches, considering.

Angus pours out a couple of cups of tea, and hands one to Maddy, "Och, it isnae against the rules… it's just a bit more physical than a lot o' namby pamby players want tae get! Sissies!" And with that, he heads off to get changed.

"Ta, Angus," Madeline says warmly, setting her box and wand aside to accept the tea, as the ball rolls under her chair. She tilts her head to look down at it - then kicks at it with her heel, to try to knock it back out again.

“It doesn’t take much skill to grab onto another’s broom,” comments Angelus. He draws out his wand as he approaches Madeline, and slows as he watches her kick out the golden ball from under her seat. His lips curl lightly, but his blue eyes flick away from her. With a wave of his wand, he says, “Leviosa,” and the orb lifts into the air. Approaching it coolly, he plucks it from the air and tucks it, unconcernedly, into his robes before heading for the stairs with a tilted chin.

Madeline bites back a snarky comment that nearly breaks past her lips - and takes a sip of her tea. After a few sips, she'll pick her wand back up, and get back to work.

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