(1940-04-17) Chain of Events
Details for Chain of Events
Summary: Mr. Pringle's lost chain (and gobstones) bring to mind certain traditions at Hogwarts, and the question of whether things really should be changing.
Date: 17 April 1940
Location: Entry Hall, Hogwarts
Plot: Peevish Pringle 1940

Abraxas emerges from the dungeons. And he's clinking. Like Jacob Marley in some muggle tale that the Malfoy has never read, he has a shot of chain over his shoulder (and dirt on his shoes) as he makes his way into the entry hall.

Sitting there in the entryway, Virgil has curled up with a book, his knees propped up to either side of a volume which he clutches ever so eagerly. Both hands wrapped around the fine leather, he glances up at the sound of the chain and half suspects that Peeves is up to something. Seeing Abraxas, he instead hops to his feet to go and investigate. "There must be a story behind all that," he remarks, looking at both the dirt and the chain in one deliberate motion. Tilting back his floppy wizard hat, he looks at the boy squarely. Curious.

"Well, there was nothing in the dungeons." Abraxas says, "But I found this floating around in the Labyrinthine Hall, outside the Potions Classroom. Well, actually, atop and behind some boxes that were stashed in a little-used part of the… Never mind. It's Pringle's. It has his initials on it. I think he's proud of his chains."

Lifting off his hat, Virgil indicates a gobstone pouch he has inside the hat with a little gesture. "This is his too, I've been waiting for the next meal so that I can give it to him without having to track him down. Chains wouldn't work so well inside my hat though," he muses and leans in a little as he puts his hat back on. Looking at the chain he nods in agreement. "That's a Pringle-Chain alright, I bet he uses it to stretch kids by the thumbs."

"There have been a few occasions of that this year. I'm surprised that the Head goes along with it. Seemed more Dippet's speed than Dumbledore's." Abraxas replies, as he finds a bench and puts the chain down, the manacles hanging off the edge of the seat. "I wonder if those are his gobstones, or just the ones that he's confiscated over the years."

"I'm sure he'll change things, eventually," Virgil intones.

"Yes, well, he's changed quite enough, if you ask me." Abraxas says, crossly, sitting down next to the chain and pulling a handkerchief out to blot his forehead, "But I suppose that's what you get to do when you're headmaster."

"I'm betting they're confiscated, and changing things isn't bad, that's a bad way to think. It's when someone changes something that makes perfect sense that you need to worry. Tradition for the sake of itself is silly, right?" Virgil suggests amiably, not really following on the same wavelength as the older Slytherin. Seeing as he was/is mudclub.

"Tradition is what binds us together was Wizards. Look at where you're standing. Hogwarts goes back a thousand years. We still honor the names of those who founded this place. Things were the same here when I started as they were for my father and my father's father. What's next, muggleborn Slytherins?" Abraxas stands and rolls his eyes, "As if there will ever be a day when that happens. What you might not know is that traditions in the Wizarding world are stronger than these rusty chains."

"Traditionally, people have done stupid things, and then learned to do them better. That's the nature of developing better potions and charms, using only the oldest methods, our magic would be outdated. Changing with the times is an essential part of a well developed wizard, learning to see how the world changes and to adapt," Virgil decides.

"Building on the magic that has come before us is one thing, forgetting where we came from is another." Abraxas replies. He goes to lift up the chain, "Now we're cozying up to the muggles. There's a saying, I'm told - those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. Maybe Professor Binns said that once. We seem to forget they used to burn us for being who we are. This is what happens when you forget traditions, and why they exist."

"Right, so bad traditions need to be changed, obviously. Not forgotten. We still have history," Virgil agrees.

"Tell that to the muggles who panic like the bloodthirsty, short-tempered creatures they are." Abraxas responds tartly, as the chain is thrown over his shoulder. "After they insinuate their muggle-born children into our society. Destroy us from without, destroy us from within."

"No muggle army can combat invisibility and the ability to alter memories, or polyjuice potion. Combine those things and you can destroy any non-magical adversary," Virgil says.

Abraxas snorts, again, this time with greater disdain, "There are millions of them and thousands of us. You keep thinking that a bit of polyjuice potion will help." Abraxas turns to head towards Pringle's office, "I'd rather deal with him." he observes, then wanders off.

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