(1940-01-20) Outspoken
Details for Outsoken
Summary: Angelus makes a scene at dinner.
Date: January 20, 1940
Location: Great Hall, Hogwarts

Students are filing into the Great Hall for dinner, walking over to their respected tables. As arrogant as ever, Angelus walks towards Gryffindor’s table with a smug smile weakly displayed over his face. It is the right table that he approaches - he doesn’t bother glancing at any of the other three tables - finding a place to sit. Of course, as he sits, the youth is talking about how excellent he did in Charms class. “Yes, it was simple, really. I, of course, made an excellent movement with my wand. It was a display quite worthy of someone with my title. The great and legendary Angelus!”

Gareth is at the Ravenclaw table already, scribbling away at his book, when he notices students begin wandering in. With a sigh, he corks his ink bottle and begins packing his things away, using his robe to rub at the ink stains on his fingers. He's not worried though, knowing the ink will be magically removed by…well, whoever does the laundry. Over the general din and clatter, he manages to hear Angelus' clear and arrogant tones, and he looks over in that direction with a quirked brow. If he happens to catch his cousin's attention, he'll give a quick nod of greeting, before returning to the task of stowing his schoolbag under the bench.

Angus files into his own place. Some distance from Angelus. The former friends are clearly not getting on at present. His hands are a bit grubby, but that's not precisely unusual.

“It takes someone with great brilliance to be able to pull off such a perfect spell,” Angelus carries on, unconcerned by a couple eye rolls of the students around him. Sitting facing Ravenclaw’s and Slytherin’s tables, the youth cocks his head lightly as he catches the nod from Gareth. He pauses briefly to offer the seventh year a raise of his head. Before the food comes, one girl lets out an exasperated sigh and mutters something that can barely be heard. Sitting close to the smug Gryffindor boy, of course it reaches his ears even as the girl rises to change where she’s sitting. The comment quiets the boy after a scowl, and as the feast appears he begins to wordlessly help himself from the serving dishes. He glances towards the Head Table, inclining his head an inch, watching the professors for a moment before Gel looks back down.

Ah, food! Gareth has worked up an appetite today, what with all the NEWT classes and studying and scribbling away at his book. So when the food arrives, his face brightens somewhat, and he quickly reaches for the eel pie and mash. So intent is he, he fails to notice the change in Angelus, filling a cup with strong coffee and adding three spoons of sugar. His fellow Housemates are just as busy with their own meals, chattering away about the day's lessons and the study plans they have for the evening.

What Angelus takes into his plate isn’t very much, considering, and he shoves it around his plate taking only small bites - as he had done during breakfast and lunch. Despite being insufferably smug, the boy hasn’t been showing much of an appetite at his meals. He shoots another glance over at the Head Table, frowning as he studies the professors. Turning his head away, his gaze suddenly glances around the hall as he gauges the students, looking suddenly pensive as his tongue slides out to touch the corner of his mouth. Drawing out a sigh, Angelus suddenly rises, lifting a foot up behind him to step up onto the bench. A smirk flickers against his lips, inclining back his head self-confidently. As he steps up onto the table - sliding dishes along the table, and even causing a couple to crash over the edge - he’s drawing out his wand. He holds it down by his side, his personal crest dangling from the blue handle, but he pipes up loudly. “Are you just going to let the corruption of this school spread? We’re Gryffindors! We don’t let people push us around. These common rabble are ruining our beloved school and turning into a joke!”

Of course, it doesn’t take long for the professors at the Head Table to look up. And there’s Pringle, scowling and grumbling about unruly children.

Gareth begins coughing around a mouthful of coffee, which he manages to choke down after a few moments. Face red and eyes wide, he starts to stand up, waving a hand hoping to draw the attention of the errant Eibon. "What do you think you're doing?" he hisses, eyes darting around fearfully. "Sit down, you fool!"

Things keep being taken away from him. Angelus isn’t getting what he wants. Well, it was bound to happen. The young fourth year was bound to throw his tantrum. He sniffs with disdain as he glances towards the Head Table. “Things were better when Professor Dippet was in charge. Put him back as Headmaster. Things have gotten unfair and unjust!”

A couple of the Gryffindor prefects have risen, hissing at the boy and reaching out for him. “Eibon, get down. We’re going to go wait at the Head Office now. Stop making a sc-“ A spray of mashed potatoes splatters on the prefect’s face, a big glob of the stuff fisted in Angelus’ fingers. “They’re destroying this school!” He frowns when his gaze only settles on Gareth for a second. His head turns sharply to spy the caretaker’s approach, and the boy quickly hops onto the bench, and to the floor, just in time to wince at Pringle’s grasp. Angelus scowls, but he doesn’t resist when Pringle directs him to the doors of the hall.

Gareth lets out a groan when Angelus continues his rant, and he winces visibly when the potatoes fly at the prefect. "Angelus, stop!" he calls, voice sounding pained. "You're going to get yourself expelled." In the Ravenclaw's mind, that's a fate worse than death. But it's too late for Gareth to help his friend now, the Caretaker has already snatched the boy up. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Gareth sits down again, reaching for his napkin. This does not bode well, he knows. Things are about to become so much more difficult for anyone associated with the Eibon family.

As Angelus throws the mashed potatoes, Elspeth considers for a moment, then is on her feet. "Eibon," she says quietly, but then is interrupted by Pringle passing by her. As Angelus finds himself being taken off, she raises her hand. "Please, sir, do not be interrupting your dinner. I can be taking Eibon to the office." There's an unreadable expression on her face until she has passed through the doors with her charge. "Is it being seemly for an Eibon to be throwing food like muggle children in a boarding home?" She asks curiously, but there's a bit of an edge to her voice that isn't often there.

Angelus has managed to sheathe is wand again. Why had he drawn it? Had he perhaps thought he was going to use it? He grimaces by the hard grip on his arm, but regards Elspeth with a calculating stare as she takes over escorting him. A smirk flicks out bitterly at the corner of his mouth, but he strides to the door in silence alongside the Ravenclaw prefect, hissing out a low, “Ow,” as he rubs at his arm.

As they step into the entry hall, Gel keeps his pace with Elspeth with a head raised high with that of a superior, well-bred young gentleman. Except that chilled, British tone returns in a biting response, “Oh, are you concerned about our reputation? Don’t pretend.”

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