Details for Oh, Brother |
Summary: | Samira gets nervous when she sees a mysterious foreigner waiting for her as disembarks from the Hogwarts Express. Antonin and Abraxas are ready to protect their friend. |
Date: | 25 June, 1941 |
Location: | Platform 9 3/4, King's Cross Station, London |
Related: | — |
Characters |
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The Hogwarts Express whistles and groans its way into the station, clouds of steam billowing out from its impressive red engine. Platform 9 3/4 is already scattered with parents, guardians and relatives awaiting the arrival of the students, though their numbers are far fewer this year, as so many met the children in Hogsmeade to keep them away from the dangers of London. Still, plenty remain in the war-ravaged city, either out of necessity or the wizards' overconfidence in their safety from Muggle weapons.
Among the throngs on the platform, one wizard stands out a bit from the others. His dusky skin suggests his non-native origins, but his distinctly foreign style of robes and the green turban wrapped around his head and neck confirm any suspicion. He stands patiently, hands folded in front of him, his eyes on the windows of the train as it slows to a halt.
Samira returns to the compartment of Abraxas as Antonin moments before the Hogwarts Express pulls into the station. With her school robes tucked neatly under her arm, she stands wearing a dress of pearl-white silk. She waits for either Antonin or Abraxas to open the door before stepping out amidst the steam and outpouring of students. "I suppose my great-uncle will send someone for me. I wonder…" Her voice trails off as her eyes settle upon a foreign-looking wizard. Foreign, yet the style of his robes are quite familiar. Even his features strike her as ones she has seen before. With a subtle frown, she takes a half step back.
Antonin is first to the door, sliding it open and then stepping out into the steam. He turns back to ensure that Samira finds her way from the car without trouble and then listens to her words. His eyes similarly scan the faces present on the platform and as she trails away, his eyes move in the direction of hers and similarly fall on the foreign wizard, though with no familiarity. "Is that him, then?" young Dolohov asks.
Abraxas is following Samira out when she balks and steps back. "What's wrong?" he asks, then steps around her, "You're blocking the exit, Prince. We're going to get run over by firsties if we stand here." His gaze follows hers, and then he looks at Antonin and spots the obvious 'one of these things is not like the others' on the platform.
Amir scans the opening doors, watching the students pour out onto the platform. At last his dark eyes fix on Samira, and he starts to walk, deftly weaving through the wave of sentimental parents until he is positioned in front of the door Samira is standing in. But there he waits, staring like an hypnotic cobra preparing to strike.
"No. My Great Uncle didn't send him." Samira steps back up into their car - though were she any less graceful, she'd have surely stumbled. With wide-eyed caution, she tries to shy away out of sight of the approaching foreigner.
Sensing Samira's growing trepidation toward the mysterious foreign wizard, Dolohov takes a step to the right, blocking the way to the stairs where Samira backs away and turns eyes back toward the wizard, as if he could actually do anything. "Who are you?" he asks of the man bluntly, his young voice not raised or angry, but there is some suspicion there on behalf of his retreating friend.
Surely there wouldn't be a problem here, in the middle of a crowd of Wizards, but Abraxas's fingers dip inside his sleeve for a moment before he moves near Antonin. "If Penzington Prince didn't send him, then who did?" he wonders, mainly to his friend who has withdrawn into the train car.
It takes a moment for the foreign man to even recognise that he's being spoken to. His kohl-rimmed eyes flicker down to the young Slytherin addressing him. "Tell Samira to come out," he says in a soft, yet unquestionably confident tone. "Tell her that her brother is here to greet her."
Samira keeps hidden and even glances off towards the train's narrow corridor. But to escape, she would allow herself to be glimpsed. With all the hustle and bustle in the train and on the platform, she can't quite hear Antonin's question or the foreigner's response.
Antonin seems a bit taken aback by the stranger's claim of being Samira's brother, an expression that no doubt crosses the young boy's features as he stares back at the man from beneath a suspicious brow. But, people do lie, after all. "And what if Samira doesn't want to talk to you?" he asks of the man, his eyes shifting toward Abraxas as if to silently ask the older boy if he knows anything about this situation.
Abraxas can only give a shrug in return, along with a shake of his head, but Abe puts his foot on the train step and grabs the railing, easily pulling his lanky frame up into the doorway to ask Samira, "There's a man out here who says he's your brother. Do you even have a brother? I've never heard you mention him?"
Amir frowns with mild irritation at Antonin's impertinence. Taking quick stock of the situation, he looks to Abraxas — obviously the elder of the boys — and nods appreciatively. He gestures to the Malfoy, addressing Antonin again. "You see? That was not difficult. Now Samira knows who I am. Tell her to come out. She is block the exit and soon the station attendants will come to move her anyhow."
Samira's brows furrow deeper as Abraxas relays the stranger's identity. Hands closed tight in her lap, she sits leaning forward to hide against the door-frame, out of sight of both window and doorway. Slowly, she says, "I do have a brother. But… my father or great uncle wouldn't have sent him. And… since I'd rather attend Hogwarts next year, I think I'll wait here for my Great Uncle's man to arrive for me."
Antonin's cheeks flush somewhat in embarrassment as the older man gestures toward Abraxas and the obviously easy task he had wished the younger boy do. Brow furrowing a touch more, Antonin says, "I didn't even know Samira had a brother. Anyone can claim to be someone's brother, and if she doesn't want to come to you, that is obviously a bad enough sign, right?" He pauses a touch, his head turning to angle one ear toward the door behind him to try and hear what Abraxas and Samira are saying. "I don't think the attendants will make her go to someone she doesn't want to."
"You're sure? You want us to tell him to go away, then?" Abraxas says, just to be sure. "He is family, after all." No Malfoy would think of shunning another Malfoy, but perhaps other families are different. He turns and hops down back onto the platform, "I've told Prince… Err… Samira, that is, that you're here. She says that she'd prefer to wait for whoever Mr. Penzington Prince said to collect her."
"They will make her get off the train." Again, Amir's voice carries his bored irritation with Antonin. As Abraxas — who he has decided is the more reliable messenger — speaks again, he lifts his chin with a slight smile. "Mr. Penzington Prince is not sending anyone because I am here. Boys, do get her off the train. The attendant is coming." He indicates with a nod toward a uniformed man walking down the length of the train, hollering out orders to keep things moving along and informing everyone in hearing distance that any luggage left behind will be held by the station for six weeks, then donated to charity.
Samira sneaks a glimpse out at the man claiming to be her brother. The resemblance is there. Not as much to her, but to her father. She certainly sees it. She follows his nod towards the approaching attendant and bites her lower lip. "Do you have a note from him? From Great Uncle Penzington?" she asks, speaking up from within the car, peeking out through the open doorway.
Antonin clearly seems torn here, recognizing easily enough that the foreigner is getting peeved off with him, but hey, it is his friend here that this guy is possibly trying to kidnap. He casts another glance toward Abraxas, clearly unsure of what to do and then Samira is speaking from behind him and he is quiet, rather than saying anything else to further aggravate the man. His eyes return to the Wizard, waiting for him to produce such a message.
"Yes, I'm sure they'd like to hurry us along." Abraxas says, sighing, then glancing upwards at the train door as Samira pokes her head out. He shakes his head, and says, "Why don't you just… I don't know… tell her something only her brother would know, or something. Then we can at least have this conversation over tea like civilized people, hrm?" He looks between Amir and Samira and back again.
Amir sighs with an impatient sort of patience and steps forward. "This is becoming ridiculous," he mutters, his accent getting thicker with his annoyance. He stops a few feet short of the boys, turning to wave the attendant over. Already, the harried station worker is eyeballing the gathering Slytherins with a frustrated frown. But his expression turns to attentive surprise as Amir presents him with what looks to be some sort of identification card. "My sister will not come off of the train. She thinks I am trying to kidnap her. Please assist me." He gives the man a cool smile.
The attendant balks for a moment, suddenly looking quite out of his depth. But he finally nods, stammering, "Y-Yes, Ambassador. Um…alright, kids! Let's move it along. Plenty of people trying to reunite with loved ones. Don't want to be the ones holding them up." Indeed, there are plenty of complaints and protests coming from inside the train, telling Samira to get out of the way.
Amir tilts his head at the three Slytherins. "Some of you are intelligent young people. Use your heads. Am I going to kidnaps somebody with hundreds of witnesses around me? Dressed so conspicuously? Where would I go? How far would I get before I was Stunned into unconsciousness? Hmm?"
Samira steps back down out of the train with catlike grace, but lingers just behind Antonin and Abraxas. No letter. But there's no sign of anyone else there to collect her. "Ambassador. So… you have come to live here? Ana sa'askun ma'aka?"
Antonin glares at the attendant as he hurries them along but it doesn't hold. His attention drifts back to the others as the man addressed them and then as Samira steps down off of the train. He seems a little out of his own depth by this point, clearly unsure of what to do, and so he just stands and watches the situation play out.
"Antonin, look after Samira for a moment, would you." Abraxas says, and then steps towards the attendant, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm Abraxas Malfoy. Might I have a word for just a moment. We don't mean to cause any trouble." He murmurs to the man, something about 'friend of the family', 'my father', 'my cousin the Senior Undersecretary', and 'appreciate your understanding'.
You say, "'Aiuwa," Amir says with a nod to Samira. "But even if that were not the case, you would not be in a position to choose otherwise. Not yet." He squints his eyes pensively. "I thought your house sigil was a serpent. Do you not learn to wait for the perfect opportunity to act?" He sighs, his hands going to his hips, which has the effect of drawing the eye to the ornamented curved knife sheathed at his belt. "It seems your education will continue through the summer.""
Samira's dark gaze flits after Abraxas as the Malfoy takes the poor attendant aside. Peeking back over at Amir, she bites her lower lip and shies a bit to stand behind Antonin. Lingering close to the boy (who stands a good few inches taller than her), she murmurs something to him. Then at last, she lifts her chin and steps out from behind him to approach her brother. "Yes, Akhi… Please, I hope you will forgive my caution." Hands clasped quite tight behind her back, she bows her head with respect before quickly peeking back up at him.
Antonin nods his head, his small chest swelling somewhat as Abraxas leaves him to guard Samira. You see that, man? HE is the protector here! His head turns once more as Samira murmurs in his ear, and his eyes briefly leave the stranger to gaze into her eyes. After a moment he nods his head and whispers something back to her as she moves around him to join the other Wizard.
"Ah, see, the situation has resolved itself." Abraxas says, politely, as he turns to stand next to the attendant. "I don't think we'll need any further help, but I am sorry for the delay." The Malfoy in question positively oozes that fabled false sincerity of his, because he could really care a fig less for the disquiet of some functionary. But, his father has always preached the stern but approachable method, so he's trying it out. "Have a good day. See you in the fall, I'm sure." And with that, he returns to his friends. "Sorry for the misunderstanding. Ambassador Azam, is it?" He offers his hand.
Amir nods in quiet approval as Samira finally steps into his bubble of authority. "Your cautions, yes. Your strategy…this needs work." He turns to Abraxas to hear out his apology and greeting. He glances to the outstretched hand, and for a moment it seems that he will not take it, but in the end he does. His hand is rough and calloused, hardly the skin expected of a diplomat. "Prince," he corrects the young Malfoy, "Like my sister." Still holding Abraxas's hand, he looks to his sibling. "Samira. Who are these boys to you?" he asks, an echo of suspicion in his tone.
Samira's cheeks flood with a hint of warmth as Amir asks about the boys. She tries to maintain a calm, confident demeanor, but under her brother's stare, she soon averts her eyes. "Both are in my house - Slytherin. Abraxas Malfoy, he is in my year and Antonin Dolohov is a bit younger. They're my friends, ya Akhi."
"I'm also one of her house prefects." Abraxas explains, with a nod, after shaking hands. He notes that his hand is still being held, and while he doesn't engage in some foolish squeezing contest, he does simply smile blandly, "But if the matter is settled, then perhaps I should leave you to catch up." He looks to Samira, tilting his head as if to ask what she would prefer.
Amir furrows his brow at Samira's reaction, then casts his eyes to boys, studying them for a moment. Finally, he releases Abraxas and gives the older boy a nod. "Friends. I see. Perhaps we will soon invite your friends to our new home, and I will know them better. But now I am sure that you need rest, ya Okhti. Go fetch your luggage and we will go."
Samira glances over at Abraxas, but doesn't respond. Instead, her gaze flits from Abraxas to Amir as she waits, watching. Tension grows in her shoulders, but her manner remains carefully respectful. In the end, she simply offers a dutiful nod and with a quick glance to Antonin and then Abraxas, she heads off to fetch her luggage.