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Post by Cepheus Malfoy on Apr 17, 2009 1:44:57 GMT -8
  Lunchtime was possibly the best meal of the day. But then, breakfast was quite nice also. It was a shame therefore, that they had to be woken up so early to eat it. Why they weren't allowed to sleep for a few more hours before eating it was beyond him. One of his ‘friends’ had tried to reason that by the time Cepheus was ready for him first meal of the day, it would be nearly lunchtime and the point of morning lessons would be pointless, as he would have missed them all. He had tried, for a few minutes, to find the fault of this reasoning. Morning lessons were usually something like History or Potions; he didn't care for either subject particularly. To miss them but manage both a longer amount of sleep and a later meal was unfortunate but could not be helped.
Now he came to think of it, perhaps dinner was the best meal of the ones held in the dining hall. That was the period of the day when one would expect to find the most students. At breakfast, and even dinner, there were various reasons for absences. It probably depended on your outlook; people such as him preferred the more populated mealtimes whereas others who did not care for people would prefer the earlier ones with fewer students around. Maybe all three were of equal satisfaction. However, at this moment, lunchtime was looking the far more appealing of the three.
The morning had been rather disappointing, in terms of lessons. He wouldn't have minded that much if they'd done something. Anything would have been more interesting than the monologues, which each professor had taken what seemed like great pleasure in reciting to him or him. For the rest of the early morning, he had delved into his own thoughts rather than focusing on some ‘wonderful’ topic that the teacher had started discussing. Now and again, he would look up and pretend to be concentrating on the lesson and the front of the room. But it didn't matter. Because very few of them seemed to care. Or perhaps he was more talented at pretending to pay attention than he had previously thought.
Perhaps because they too were beginning to feel the strains of boredom strike them as they started another exciting one-way conversation. Still it gave him the opportunity to gaze out of the window, whilst his dark eyes flickered back and fro every so often. With the thrilling double Potions completed and sat through, it left the ever-captivating instruction of the Charms and Divination teachers before he was permitted to spend the rest of the day doing something that was actually worthwhile. And even before that, there was the prospect of this morning’s homework tasks. The idea of setting homework on the first day had been enough to bewilder him. Hence him delight at finally being allowed to enter the hall in search of some sustenance. If delight was indeed the right word, Cepheus didn’t seem to show many expressions that could be labelled as ‘delight.’
He glanced across the five tables, most professors had rushed to the great hall with the same idea as him. It was the only table to have nearly every seat filled. The one nearest to the door seemed to be populated with students. Mostly younger ones however, who seemed to have charged in, at fifty miles per hour and sat down with the intention of eating anything they saw. The next two tables were half-full, probably due to students still in a lesson or studying for some insane purpose. The table furthest away from the entrance to the dining hall, he noticed with some interest, was almost empty. [/font][/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by rosieweasley on Apr 17, 2009 14:19:17 GMT -8
"Miss Rosie, make yourself useful and hand me the wrench at the bottom of the box."
The crotchety old caretaker's voice floated back from under the patchwork of pipes, catching a day-dreaming Rosie completely off guard. She rummaged around for a while in the large, rusty toolbox sitting on a dirty rag next to her before finally finding the monster-sized wrench that was needed.
Handing it under the pipes, she felt a shaky hand grab it before hearing a twisting sound, then a crack, and a long string of cuss words spoken under one's breath.
"You all right down there, Argus?" she asked, poking her head under the pipes to stare into the impending darkness below. A coughing Argus Filch was nodding his head vigorously, waving the wrench at her in a motion that meant there was really not much damage done.
After a moment of looking worriedly into the dim light offered in the pipeworks, Rosie's question was finally answered. "Fine, fine, Miss Rosie. Don't you worry about this old man. It's these pipes you should be fretting over. Such rusted metal. If only there was a way to reverse the effect..."
He trailed off, staring in her direction hopefully. Rosie smiled, raising her eyebrows at him. Argus had been quite glad to get a young witch to help him out. Though she wasn't the best with spells and all that sort, she could at least manage most simple household spells, which was what Filch needed for his work around Hogwarts, but something he didn't have the ability to do himself. And, although he never really agreed to Rosie to do any spellwork without her first offering, he always implied it and she eventually caught on.
"I could do a simple Rust-Be-Gone Spell to patch everything up. It's, hopefully, something I won't easily bungle. My mum taught it to me last year and I've been practicing on the rust in our house ever since."
A lopsided grin spread across the old man's face, and he nodded happily as she prepared herself for the spell.
A half hour later, the pipes were patched up respectably, Rosie had said her good-byes to Filch, and she was heading to the Great Hall for lunch. Her work under the pipes had left a few smudges of dirt on her forehead and cheeks, and her hair a bit ruffled, but she doubted anyone who cared would be at such an early lunch.
The sneakers on her feet squeeked joyfully as she rounded the corner into the Great Hall. Above, the sky was a bright, robin's egg blue with a few wisps of fluffy white clouds dotting its flawless surface. Her bright blue eyes scanned the tables for a place to sit. None of her friends were around, so she headed towards the emptiest table, and spotted a boy about halfway along it, that she, though she knew she would later regret it, sat down next to.
"Hullo Cepheus!" She greeted him in the most cheerful voice she could manage. "Your day going all right?"
{I just assumed that Cepheus was going to sit down.
Pardon my assumtions.
Because we all know what happens when you assume...}
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Post by Cepheus Malfoy on Apr 18, 2009 7:31:22 GMT -8
What was it exactly about younger students that was so irritating? He couldn't help wondering this. But as he turned his attention to the people sitting around him, he found himself wondering what it was about most other students that annoyed him. Maybe he was just easily annoyed. Or maybe they were particularly infuriating people. Then it again, it could have been a combination of the two, or include many other factors also. To be honest, it was probably a mixture of all of these. So many possible reasons, as long as it didn't portray him in a bad light, he wasn't bothered what the exact reason for his quick irritation was. Other students weren't important to him. They would be left behind while he went off to seek status, power and fortune in the next few years. Oh yes, if one thing was certain, this Slytherin student had high aspirations and intended fully on meeting them. Power-hungry, he might have seemed, but not foolish. He already had most of it planned out.
Now having seated himself at the nearest table, with fewer students, to allow him breathing space, he glanced at the selection of food and drink that was currently available. Personally, he wouldn't have bothered with serving that many options until the seats were filled out. Why waste time and effort making food that wouldn't be eaten, if it was eaten, for another fourty minutes? Yet, he was secretly grateful to these houselves. They did make some delicious food. Although he would never admit this out loud. He didn't want to be seen to be grateful for anything, except for his own personal qualities. To be seen to be grateful was almost an implication that he needed things. He didn't want to need things. Needing things was a sign of weakness. And Cepheus Malfoy, while various other things, was not weak.
His attention was drawn by the arrival of another student. A girl of about his age. He had recognised her almost instantly. Yet, he had chosen to ignore her for a few more minutes, acting as though he was now thoroughly involved in choosing something to eat. He didn't want to talk to her. Why was she wanting to talk to him? Did she not realize that he hated her? If she didn't, something was wrong. He obviously needed to correct that. He'd try simply ignoring her for a while, to see if she'd get it. Probably not though, Rose Weasley had a head that needed adjusting. Nothing like him, then, of course. The smudged marks on her face did not go unnoticed by the dark eyes of Mr. Malfoy. And it gave him an excellent reason to mock her.
None of this was of real surprise to him, though. Her behaviour was that of a Weasley. He didn't expect anything else, his father had told him of the weird family's behaviour. What did surprise him, however, was when she took the liberty of inviting herself to sit down next to him. What was that? He couldn't even speak, concentrate for a few seconds, a small sensation of shock overtook his body, one which he had rarely experienced before. Only for a few seconds though, he soon regained his usual complacent expression . "Weasley," he hissed sharply at her, "What the fuck are you doing? Who said you could sit here?! Aren't you aware that there are designated seats for you, over there." He indicated vaguely to the Hufflepuff table. "I don't sit with halfbloods or people belonging to blood traitorous families. I also don't associate with Hufflepuffs. You belong to all of these categories. Move along, or I'll be forced to persuade you." [/font][/size][/blockquote] |
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Post by rosieweasley on Apr 18, 2009 12:00:16 GMT -8
In the moments it took Cepheus to reply, Rosie took a long glance up and down the table, looking for foods that she could possibly want to eat. A platter of shepherd's pie caught her eye as well as a large pitcher of iced tea. One, however, was being used at the moment, and the other was too far out of her reach to grab. She waited patiently for the small Slytherin first-year across the table to finish with the iced tea before muttering a request in his direction. Though he knew she was a Hufflepuff, and therefore hardly in what he considered his league, she was also a seventh year, and therefore, a force to be reckoned with.
She grinned at him, sprinkling him with thanks as he handed her the slippery pitcher along with a filthy look. As she poured herself a drink, she listened to Cepheus' hate-filled answer.
And she was hardly surprised. Her parents had warned her about the Malfoys, and just Slytherins in general. However, she hadn't listened. No one could be all dark, in her eyes. There was some light and some dark in everyone. It was simply which side they chose to act upon. Such was what her Uncle Harry had told her a few years back when Rosie had asked him about the Malfoys and their house of sneering Slytherins. She believed her uncle more than anyone in the world. So, obviously, he was right.
A thousand different possibilities for Cepheus' talk came into her head. Perhaps he'd simply been brought up to hate all Hufflepuffs. And Weasleys. From what she'd heard about Draco Malfoy, she could hardly rule out that possibility. But from the tone of his voice, Rosie detected a bit of fright. This puzzled her. But, then again, he could simply be terrified of his friends seeing him with such a girl, and thus, thinking him to be associated with that sort of people. Whatever, the reason, Rosie simply smiled at him, replying to his questions, her cheerful voice not detered by his blunt, angry manner.
"I am perfectly aware that there's a designated table for me to sit at. However, why not be spontaneous? I've gotten a much warmer welcome here than I've ever gotten over there." She jerked her thumb back over her shoulcer to the Hufflepuff table, a laugh escaping her lips. "And I usually don't sit with egotistical prats either, but what's wrong with a little change now and again?" Her eyes sparkled. "Pass the pie, please," she asked in a sing-song voice, gesturing to the shepherd's pie by the boy's right elbow. "And, if you must, my dear Cepheus. Persuade away."
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Post by Cepheus Malfoy on Apr 18, 2009 13:03:33 GMT -8
It seemed that she was relaxed, even if he wasn’t acting as nicely as most of the student population. What did he have to do to make her go away? Damn, he wished he knew how to annoy the girl enough, so that he’d be left in peace. The question was, how on earth was he supposed to annoy someone who was as chirpy and sweet as her? It was a difficult dilemma he had found himself in. Merlin, why was he being punished like this? In the future, he’d have to hunt her down and kill her, if she said anything else too optimistic. He decided to let her stupid chattering go on for a few more minutes. Anything to prevent her infectious bubbly nature spreading. Although he doubted that would happen at this table. Other members of his own house were unlikely to be any happier with the sudden presence of Miss Weasley. Oh just go die, he thought, with a quick glance in her direction.
Dark eyes following the gaze of the girl’s, he watched her in what seemed to be a study of the food the table currently had on offer. It was then that he became conscious that he hadn’t actually chosen anything for himself. And so many minutes had gone by already, soon it would be time for afternoon lessons. What a joy. He wondered whether Weasley enjoyed lessons. He didn’t share that many with her. Obviously their magical ability ran in different academic areas. He supposed he should have been slightly relieved when he discovered the lack of time they had to spend together, grateful even. But then, children, as we have already noted, Cepheus Malfoy didn’t appreciate many things, and he certainly wasn’t grateful for them.
Retorts came back full and fast as she finished her responses. “If you are aware of your own area, then I suggest you go and sit in it. I don’t care where you’re more popular, Weasley. It’s not as if anyone wants you over here either. Just because your own house doesn’t want you, doesn’t mean you have the right or freedom to consider us worthy of punishment through your ignorant chatter.” He allowed himself a few seconds to breathe, before adding another important fact to the statements already made, “If Hufflepuffs find you annoying and undeserving of welcome also, it seems they are more intelligent than most people give them credit for.” He rolled his eyes at her bright and sunny manner, this lunchtime was going to drag on, if she was going to continue to sit there, randomly giggling or whatever about idiotic topics of conversation.
"And for your information, Weasley, I am not egotistical or a prat. Maybe you should take a look at yourself before you start dealing out the insults, dear. You’re not exactly what anyone would call attractive. In looks or personality.” That had seemed a little harsh. A few of the youngest Slytherins unconsciously let a gasp with the deliverance of the last statement. But, if her previous reaction to his hostility was anything to go by, she’d be acting the happy bunny for a while still. . “Maybe I don’t want change. Maybe I don’t want to pass the pie either, Weasley. If you want the pie, go and sit somewhere else where you’ll have easier access to it. In fact, just go somewhere else. I don’t care where you go. The further the better, as far as I’m concerned.”
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Post by rosieweasley on Apr 18, 2009 13:30:32 GMT -8
He did seem to be in a rather bad mood at the moment. The same one he was always in whenever she had the chance to talk to him. She rolled her eyes good-naturedly at his comments, still smiling, before reaching across him to grab the pie and spooning some onto her plate. In the process, she brushed across his skin. Good God, that would definitely get a comment. Whether her skin was too hot or too cold, some connection would be made to her blood-status as well as her House. But, worse things had been said about her than anything Cepheus could come up with, and, besides, she had a rather thick skin. Living in the Weasley house, it was difficult not to be able to withstand rather cruel comments.
But, what could she do? Perhaps he just needed to be cheered up. Most gloomy people did. He was like the Muggle cartoon character, Eeyore. Only much better looking and with a significantly naughtier mouth. And excluding the fact that he didn't seem have a tail, and much less, one that constantly seemed to be falling off. Her thoughts carried her away for a moment as she pondered on this. Her mum had shown her many tapes of Winnie the Pooh on their dusty, little VCR when she was small. Her favorite character had always been Eeyore, if only for the reason that she pitied him. Gloominess was boring and reserved for those who couldn't find the light in themselves to be happy.
"Good Lord, Cepheus, can you not take a joke?" she asked, taking a swig of her iced tea and sighing. "Someone needs to brighten up a bit. C'mon, smile. At least then you won't seem so gloomy." She took a bite of her shepherd's pie before handing the dish to him. "Have some," she told him, before adding in a lilting voice, waving it under his nose and smiling, "It's really good!"
She mostly ignored his comment about her level of attractiveness, simply glancing around at the other Slytherins at his table and telling him, "You may want to watch that mouth of yours, Cepheus. If not for my sake, than for that of your fellow Slytherins."
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Post by Cepheus Malfoy on Apr 22, 2009 12:52:37 GMT -8
Rose Weasley seemed intent on something. He hated when that happened. He despised women on a mission. They never seemed to know when to give up. They didn’t seem to understand the idea that some things just couldn’t be changed either. Women just never knew when to accept defeat, simply because, they had this obsessive need to be right about absolutely everything. So when it seemed that the girl sitting next to him has set an objective, he wasn’t best pleased. But then it fair to say that he hadn’t been pleased about any realization he had had while sitting there. Reflecting on the situation, he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling as he chose to ignore this intent. As long as this intent never reached him, he was fine with it.
Almost the minute she touched his arm, he seemed to jump back a few inches. Cepheus Malfoy didn’t want to share this information with the rest of the student population, but he had a serious issue with people touching him. There were very few people who when contacting him did not make him flinch slightly. This, while admittedly being somewhat strange, was a clear indication as to the people he really cares about. Not that many people would make this obvious connection. But then they rarely got the opportunity to notice his reaction when someone laid a hand on him, because it hardly ever happened. Not many people would willingly touch the Slytherin. He had a strong reputation, who knew what he could do to someone that bothered him? He spoke sharply, "Don’t touch me, Weasley.”
Her responses drew some out of him. “Unfortunately for you, I like jokes that are actually funny.” He instantly dismissed her comments about cheering up. What business was it of hers whether he chose to be happy, discontent or otherwise? It had nothing to do with her. And he wasn’t about to pretend to be joyful just to please this irritating girl. She wasn’t worth his time or effort. “Maybe, I don’t want to smile. And even if I did, I don’t need some Hufflepuff half-blood telling me what to do. I’m capable of making my own decisions, thank you. If you want someone with a cheery disposition, move along the tables, I’m sure you’ll find another sickly merry individual over there.”
As for her last comment, that provoked perhaps the biggest response from him. Partly because he was now generally curious as to what she was implying. He was interested to see how she thought that he needed to watch what he said. After seven years of schooling at Hogwarts, what did he have to fear from his fellow house members? "Explain.” he demanded simply. He was a person of few words, unless he felt that more were needed. And at this particular moment, he didn’t believe he had to say any more than that.
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