(1939-12-17) Reactions
Details for Reactions
Summary: Angelus reacts to the letter and is stopped by his housemates.
Date: December 17, 1939
Location: Gryffindor Common Room, Hogwarts

When Angelus steps into the commons he casts a glance around before heading for the dormitories. As he walks his gaze sweeps over the board and he stops, bringing his gaze back. Slowly, he approaches the board, his lips quirking at one corner as his chin lifts. He stops in front of the board, staring at the one of the newest letter pinned there. He stands there, focused on the board, his mouth twitching until he lets out a loud, “Hah!” He startles more than one person in the common room. Swinging around, he glances around, eyes landing on the fire. Walking with a proud gait, he drops his book strap on the couch and works at unbuckling it, until he takes out a few pieces of parchment.

Setting down the sheets of parchment, Angelus crumbles one up as he steps toward the fire. “Target practice anyone?” inquiries the boy as he bends, leaning an arm on his knee. Sticking the paper ball into the flames, his eyes sparkle as he watches it. As soon as it alights in flames, he stands and turns to take aim at the Auror’s letter.

“Eibon!” A tall boy, a sixth year, stands up quickly and steps forward to stop the fourth year. His hand is already through the motion and the crumbled up parchment is thrown out, meeting its target - the letter - before falling to the floor.

“You idiot!” Yells out the sixth year as he reaches for his wand, seconds after Angelus does. Gel casts his spell first. “Deflammo!” And the ball of paper is extinguished before any fire can start burning on the floor.

Without a glance towards the sixth year, Angelus strolls over to the couch to snap up another sheet, beginning to crumble another ball.

“Eibon, stop it,” says the sixth year. Angelus gives a twitch of his lips, smirking as he gives Harold a look, and steps towards the fire. “Are you mental?” hisses the older boy. Angelus continues his approach to the fire, but the crumbled ball drops out of his hand when he’s suddenly swept to the side and pressed against the side. Elphias, another sixth year, glares at him with an arm barring his chest. Angelus makes no move to struggle against this restraint, but his head tilts back importantly.

“Do we need to knock some sense into you?” Elphias says in a chilled tone.

Angelus snorts and shoots back bitterly, “She doesn’t get to have a word at our school! She doesn’t get to! This is our school. Don’t let a word from a Muggle-born Auror ruin it!” He grimaces when the sixth year pushes his arm a little harder and brings his hands up to the arm barring him, trying to, in a futile attempt, to pry his arm away.

“Go upstairs. Just… go upstairs. Leave here.”

“I will go when I choose,” Angelus returns seconds before he’s squeezed against the wall. Elphias grunts and scowls at the younger boy, and Angelus murmurs, “Let me go and I’ll be glad to leave the common room.” For several seconds Elphias keeps the fourth year pinned to the wall, and in the end eyes him warningly as he lets him go. Angelus adjusts his robes casually, glancing at the fire once as he shakes his head. Stepping over to the sofa, his books are scooped up and he turns for the stairs.

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