(1941-03-10) Supper and Scuttlebutt
Details for Supper and Scuttlebutt
Summary: Slytherin Table during dinner.
Date: March 10th, 1941
Location: Hogwarts - Great Hall
Related:
Characters
GeorgeRiddleWalburga

It's not long after dinner is announced that a little gaggle of Slytherin girls make their way into the great hall, two holding some books while Walburga is leading. Her chin held up slightly, she walks past various folks while giving small little comments like "You look like a troll who tried their luck at hairstyling, my goodness. If I were you, I'd just hide my face under a hood. I mean honestly…" and she looks to her girls, "Can you imagine being that STUPID to walk around in public like that?" She laughs, a harsh and crisp one before they all sit at the Slytherin table.

Riddle tilts his head in a little nod of greeting to the gaggle of girls as they settle down. "Ladies, splendiferous as always." He gives them a genteel smile and takes up the large pitcher of pumpkin juice while extending his other hand out in an offer to take and fill their cups for them. "Walburga, word has it that your brother is excelling in his Auror Training, do extend my congratulations to him?"

Perhaps in contrast to the generally sociable, almost aristocratic behaviour of his fellow Slytherins George is conversing with a Ravenclaw student on ancient runes as the pair enter the great hall. Of course the conversation would break off as the two boys head towards their respective tables, and apart from an inclined head to Walburga, or possibly Tom, it's quite hard to tell. the older student would seat himself at the nearest available spot.

Walburga lets Riddle fill her cup up, beaming a proud yet pleasant smile on her usually cool features. "It's the blood. Naturally, he'd excel in whatever he'd be called to do however I will on my next owl home send him a special note of your kind thoughts. And did you hear the latest rumors? I heard the reason I haven't seen much of that no-good-for-nothing freak of a Gryffindor was because he nearly squashed a student as he bumbled backwards towards a wall. Can you believe that? I blame it all on that…" and she shoots a cold glance towards the way of the headmaster before her sharp voice lowers. One breath, two breath. "Hello Blishwick, any interesting things gleaned from the library lately? I hope the books haven't been ruined, I heard half-giants use them to teeth."

Riddle passes off the pitcher once he's filled the gaggle's cups to one of the Knights that are always near-by. "No-good-for-nothing freak of a Gryffindor, you are going to have to be more specific than that if we're to realize whom you are speaking of Walburga." There is a fraction of a flicker of devil in that genteel smile, but it's gone in a flash and he reaches to lift up the platter of chicken drumsticks so that he can pass those down so that George can have at them. "So that's what those strange divets in the covers are." He plays along about the joke of books being teething rings. "Did you hear about the bonfire story? Moscovitz told a rather good story. Rosier thinks that it was about her family and that's why they were kicked out of Russia."

There'd be a bare ghost of a smile on George's face for a moment. Almost a muscle twitch really. "Fortunately the more fragile texts are kept in the restricted section." He'd say, his tone deadpan. "Though yes, a number of interesting things about ancient runes…. quite a neglected form of magic." He'd state, this time with actual enthusiasm. It's almost enough to wonder how he didn't end up in Ravenclaw…

Riddle's continuance of her joke gets Walburga to laugh before she takes a drink from her mug and sets it down, a snort of contempt as her eyes flash with malice, "I'm talking about that filthy first year, Rubeus Hagrid. Ugh, give it a name and you give it a sense of belonging and things like that don't belong anywhere near decent folk." She thinks a bit about Moscovitz and Rosier, then shakes her head no. "No, I haven't. What did they say?" or in other words, what should Wally say later. She gives a nod to George and says, "You know I could always put a good word in to my great uncle if you're looking for more challenging lessons."

Riddle takes a sip from his own cup. "Perhaps in your year Blishwick, it's quite filled to capacity in my year. Mostly to do with Professor Black, yes." He bows his head towards Walburga giving her great-uncle that respect. It's true that nearly all of the Knights are in some level of Ancient Runes. Have to know your runes for the things they care to dabble in. "As for Hagrid, he has his uses. Just take a deep breath, Walburga, and imagine him to be a large breed of dog, like a Saint Bernard. Ready to risk life and limb for a pat on the head. He really is that sort."

George would raise an eyebrow, actually smiling a bit, "I didn't mean to impugn Professor Blacks Academic honor… his lessons are fascinating, though if there are harder lessons to be had, I'd welcome them." He'd say, "I was merely commenting on the general lack of use. Most common applications are in the form of wards, but there are a number of interesting applications to be had magic that endures long past the casting and there doesn't appear to be much focus on it at all." Still, he'd start filling a cup of his own. It was dinner after all.

Walburga looks positively sick at the thought of patting Hagrid on the head, her face nearly blanches. "I'm more of a cat witch, thanks. I'll leave him then to those who can take being in his gross presence, he has a stench I can't handle. Maybe if I scare him, he'll stumble backwards and knock out the whole Gryffindor quidditch team - that'd be useful." before ripping a bit off a bun and chewing it with thought. "Think of these normal lessons as sorting out those who want to just get by..or fail…and those that really have a yearning. If you have the yearning, then talk to him. You just might get your wish to be challenged! And Ancient Runes is one of my favorite courses, and I'd keep Arithmancy if it wasn't for that terrible professor..if you can even call them that."

George would raise an eyebrow, "Professor Aczel is competent in his subject I must admit that, though flawed in other ways that are only to be expected given his parentage. He'll do until someone better comes along. I doubt he'll manage to remain here for as long as his predecessor." He'd shrug, tone almost bored. "Arithmancy isn't quite as fascinating as Runes, but it was certainly an interesting subject to be sure."

Walburga says, "The biggest problem here in school is the mixing of heritages, putting us with them and expecting a nice averaging of instruction and abilities." before she takes a drink from her mug, mulling over her thoughts. "And as future leaders ourselves, we ought to take on the responsibilities of making sure our kind are given the challenges and education that's needed. Don't you agree?"

George would give an actual smile, "Of course, Slytherin is the house of the cunning and ambitious after all, perhaps of equal benefit would be to leave things as they are and see who fails to overcome the challenges a flawed schooling presents." He'd chuckle softly to himself before finally reaching to start filling his plate from the table, "Unfortunately half-breeds and muggleborns exist, we have to learn how to deal with them. Lest they get ideas of rulership themselves." Somehow, you'd get the idea that his idea of 'dealing with them' does not mean joining hands and singing songs.

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