(1941-06-10) Guitaro Reparo
Details for Guitaro Reparo
Summary: Following the altercation with Antonin, Oscar and Erica return to the Hufflepuff Common Room, where they explain the situation to Mateo and try to fix the poor, ruined guitar.
Date: June 10th, 1941
Location: Hufflepuff Common Room
Related: While My Guitar Gently Weeps

Traipsing into the common room come a rather downtrodden looking pair. Attired in her Quidditch uniform - which, incidentally, doesn't have so much as a blade of grass clinging to the pristine fabric - Erica has her arm looped through that of far taller Oscar, and seems to be in deep conversation with him about something as they walk. Unusually, for the typically shy and demure girl, her expression looks dark and displeased. "..should report him.." Can be overheard, to anyone paying enough attention, as she leads the older boy toward a group of plush armchairs.

Shaking her head, the little blonde props her broom carefully against the circular table the seats are gathered around. "..maybe a mending charm would do the trick? I can look up the Latin for.. 'wood'? Would that work? Or should it be 'instrument'?"

Seated in one chair in the common room is Mateo Lovegood, his prefect badge gleaming on his school robes. His eyes flick upward to mark the two's entrance and he watches their progress across the room with interest, one dark brow lifting in curiosity. "Hey guys," he greets with the inflection of a question, as if unsure what to make of it.

"If I report him, he'll report me for shoving him over," murmurs Oscar quietly. "We're still close enough that we can win the Cup, somehow. I won't ruin it for everyone else." His voice is low and melancholiac as he lets Erica guide him toward the chairs, settling down. "I knew he'd do something. I knew it and I decided to trust him anyway. I'm such a.. a.. a bloody fool." The strong language is vastly out-of-character, as shockingly out-of-character as Erica's displeasure.

"Little prig. I'm going to batter his bloody face in next semester, first bludger I see. And first chance I get, I'm joining the Dueling Club." The words are relentless, heated. After a while, it dawns on him that Erica is offering help. "Wood. Maybe. I'm.. not sure." Seeing Mateo, he wordlessly displays his prized guitar. The word Half-Breed has been scorched into it.

Delicately extricating her arm as she notices Mateo seated over there, Erica offers the Prefect a wan smile. With Oscar setted in a chair and muttering about bashing people's faces in - charming - the little blonde now looks rather uncertain what to do next. Her lips twist in sympathy as she looks from the wrecked guitar to Mateo, gauging his reaction to the upset. After a short pause, folding her arms across her slender midsection, she offers, "..I'll go and fetch my book. You tell Matt what happened. All of it." That last is voiced with a stern, matronly sort of air, despite her being younger than either of them. And then, scooping up her broom, she's heading off to the girls dorm, sure to swiftly return with her book.

Mateo watches the pair closely, listening to each as he stands and crosses the room to join them at their table. His brows lift as he looks at the word scorched into the guitar body and he shakes his head. "What happened?" he asks closely. His eyes return to Erica and he nods as she leaves and then glances back to Oscar.

Oscar scowls, but the tone of voice — and the kindness Erica showed in pulling him here, and her willingness to help him — compels him to tell the truth. "I was playing guitar in the Practice Grounds. I was singing Robert Johnson." Here he looks up, at last, meeting Matt's gaze for a moment before looking back down to his marred instrument. "Antonin and I had some words about it. And he asked to see my guitar. And then he did this."

He sighs, looking down again. "So I shoved him off the bench." He lets that hang there, not meeting the Prefect's gaze. "I'm very sorry, Matt. I did it. I just.. I couldn't see right. Everything was red and he was laughing at me and he threw her.." Of course the guitar is a 'she'.

Mateo leans back into his chair as he considers and says, "I don't know if it will be able to be fixed or not, given that it was done with magic, but it could be." He frowns in thought as he looks at Oscar for a long moment. "I am not certain if I should report this or not… by the book I am supposed to. What happened at the end? Where was it left off at?"

Oscar looks properly abashed. He knows the rules. And a sixth year ought to be above flying into a rage. Particularly one who is so typically mild-mannered. "The Slytherins — oh, Samira Price was there too — said they wouldn't report me. If I didn't report him for using magic without permission." The words are bitter.

"They say if I do, they'll tell the Professors I — I gave him the guitar. To practice Ancient Runes on." The unlikely story nearly sticks in his throat. "Who knows what the Professors would believe?" And here, for a moment, the anger resurfaces. Just for a moment. "After all. I'm only a half-blood."

Padding back into the common room, more comfortably attired now in her uniform, minus robes, Erica already has her nose in a heavy book; a fingertip tracing down the open pages as she searches for something. "..Lignah." She pronounces, seeming pleased, as she arrives back by the boys table and looks up at them. But the curve promptly disappears when she sees Oscar's expression, and she casts a vaguely helpless look toward Mateo, gesturing with her book gently. "..Ligna Reparo? Would that work, do you think..? It's worth a try, it's not like it can get any more ruined.." Belatedly realising her words, she looks guiltily toward the guitar's owner, sinking down into a chair between the two lads. "..sorry. But you know what I mean."

As for who would believe what.. she really doesn't have anything to offer there. She's not the sort who gets in trouble! Laying the open book down atop the table, she leaves that one to the Prefect to mull over.

Mateo nods his head slowly, listening to the tale as he glances toward the returned Erica and says, "So there are no other witnesses that could second your side of it? The Slytherin always do this. Bloody cowards always waiting until they outnumber someone and then baiting them." He falls silent as he looks at the guitar. "But Dolohov is a younger student. If Samira did not get involved then it will always be an older student attacking a younger…"

"And what he did won't count for anything. It's how they all see us, isn't it?" Oscar glances from Mateo to Erica, his features growing more protective than angry. "And both of you, you've dealt with it too and you've never done what I did. I'm sorry. I won't let it happen again. I… I let you both down." He swallows, sighing, and draws his wand from his pocket.

"And you did all this work for me, Erica. Thank you. Let's see if we can fix her." He forces a smile, the expression bleak. "And if not.. maybe I can still play her. She'll have a darker sound, I bet." He strokes his guitar sadly. "Maybe it'll make me a better player."

"I didn't see it happen.." Erica responds to Mateo's question and glance, offering him a faint smile. Her gaze lingers a moment after he looks away, as if trying to guess at his mood. Is he bothered about her being arm in arm with another boy? Surely not.. "I only arrived after. But surely nobody would believe Oscar just handed over his guitar like that..?" It doesn't really matter. At the end of the day, he shoved a younger student. Much as he may have deserved it.

"Hey. Hey." Looking to Oscar as he gets all dramatic, she shakes her head, leaning across to pat at his hand lightly in a gesture of comfort. "..do you think I haven't been tempted to kick Antonin off his broom a dozen times or more? He's mean. You just stood up to a bully, that's all. I'm not upset with you in the slightest, Oz." Her smile warms in degrees, in an expression of reassurance. "Go on.. let's see if it works. Here's the phonetic.." She angles the open book toward him, before shifting her attention back to Mateo, somehow managing to convey I hope this works! with a mere sidelong look.

Mateo glances back toward Erica as she looks his way and he offers her a faint smile, moments before his hand lifts to rub across his face. "You did not let me down," he says to Oscar. "I just am faced with a decision of whether or not I have to report the situation. If they are true to their word and don't report you then there is no problem, but if they do and it is found out that I knew, then I will be in trouble for not doing my duties." He doesn't say anything of the arm in arm affair, but the troubled expression is perhaps hard to decipher in terms of its true cause.

At first, Oscar doesn't seem to hear Mateo, or even Erica. He's focused on his guitar's disfigured face. He seems to be channeling his energies, focusing, considering the spell. At certain times, a gravity comes onto Oscar's genial features that reminds the others he is, in his way, quite a skilled Wizard. It is as though his slightly-ridiculous, boyish, charms are scoured away, leaving behind only grave competence.

"Reparo lignah." A pale light glows from the tip of his wand, coursing over the crude letters engraven on the wood. One by one, the letters begin to fade. But they don't vanish entirely — the wood repairs itself, but where the scorching had been, there are bone-white disfigurements, still perfectly readable. He stares down at it, and after a moment, he smiles. Looking up at Erica, Oscar mouths 'Thank you'.

And then his attention turns to Mateo. He seems genuinely oblivious of any other causes of the boy's trouble, but he considers the words gravely. "You can't expect the Slytherins to keep their word," he says at last. "So maybe you should turn me in. But not them. That way, we haven't broken our word either."

"Oh… sugar. I didn't even think about that." Erica has the grace to look extremely contrite as realisation dawns. "I'm sorry." This is voiced quietly toward Mateo, as she comprehends the difficult position they've unwittingly placed him in. "Well.. maybe they'll keep their word." Yeah. And pigs might be sighted soaring around the Astronomy Tower. The blonde watches him rub at his face, her light brown eyes full of concern. But she doesn't press any questions upon him right now. Maybe later.

Her focus shifts to the guitar, of course, as Oscar tries the suggested spell.. and her lips relent to a grin, a glimpse of white teeth, as the incantation does its job passably. "There now! A little woodstain or a lick of paint and it'll be good as new." Catching the boy's gaze, she offers a fractional nod in return to the mouthed words. To be honest, there's no small amount of relief in her countenance.. it would have been an awful shame to see him robbed of the intrument he cares for so much.

Settling back in her chair, finally relaxing a little, the blonde flits her eye back and forth between the pair as the discussion continues, pressing her lips in a thoughtful line but not interjecting. It's not really her place to.

Mateo leans forward as Oscar begins his incantation, his eyes watching as the guitars surface repairs itself, and then winces as the words are still visible. He shakes his head, the good natured Lovegood's always pleasant expression marred by an angry cloud. "No. I am going to stick with my friends. That would just be what they wanted if you got in trouble while they got nothing. If I get into trouble, that will just be the worth of it. It will be worth it taking up for my friends." He seems set on this as he leans back into his chair and nods as if the matter is settled. "And as for Antonin, we just need to make sure that we are ready to crush Slytherin in Quidditch next season."

"I'll get us ready." Oscar may not be the Team Captain, but he's been on the team for six long years, and he's a solid, veteran player. By 'we' he seems to mean the trio sitting around this table. He strokes his guitar, smiling down at it. The word doesn't seem to bother him. "I won't cover it up," he tells Erica softly. "I'll remember it every time I play. Now that I can play again."

Looking over to Mateo, Oscar offers a huge hand. "Thank you. I won't forget it, you sticking by me." His smile, when it finally returns full-force, takes up the whole of his darkly-tanned face. "The three of us will take Hufflepuff to the top next year. Together."

"He's going to aim a Bludger at my head." Erica pipes up with this morose statement, looking glum again as she thumbs a smudge off the tabletop. "I mean, I know that's sort of his job.. but I'm going to have a target on my back now." She's trying very hard not to look bothered. But that Slytherin has a mean streak a mile wide. And she's just so.. nice. Summoning a smile for first Mateo, then Oscar, she looks on as that hand is offered. Well, if nothing else, at least this will bring them closer as a team. Right?

"He won't ever get that chance, Erica. I'm twice the player he is, and I've got a lot more force behind my bat." Oscar speaks confidently, but he might not be able to do much. After all — it's a big game, and a lot of things could happen. He knows that as well as anyone. Still, he's trying to be reassuring. "And we'll run drills all summer. Put you through bludger dodging practice, Seeker practice, everything we can think of. Maybe we should all go to that summer camp."

Mateo takes the offered hand with a grim yet determined smile. "That's right. We can go to that camp this summer and then practice at my father's property so that when we come back we are still hot. Dolohov basically lit his own fuze with what he did today." He nods as Oscar gets up to leave and then turns his attention toward Erica. "Are you alright?"

Rousing from her thoughts, offering Oscar a pleasant smile as he excuses himself from the table, Erica nods in response to the question. It's not very convincing. "..I called him a dugbog." In the grand scheme of things, that's not exactly dreadful. In fact, it's pretty mild. But she's always given the Slytherin beater a wide berth before, so perhaps Mateo of all people might understand her unease. "..it was just such an awful thing to do. Poor Oscar." Smoothing her fair hair down with a palm - not that it was oout of place - the girl sighs deeply, then tries to set the thought of Dolohov to one side, at least for the time being. "..are you alright? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to get you all tangled up in something that might get you in trouble. But that was really nice of you, taking his side."

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