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Post by Oione Mireault on Nov 30, 2006 16:43:48 GMT -5
"That's just brilliant!" Oione gasped, practically bouncing up and down in her armchair as realisation finally downed on her. Jude Milton was the perfect name, unfamiliar and common, could pass for a boy or a girl too. Quickly she wrote it down as a signature, carefully and clearly as someone who maybe had not been born into a wealthy family but was determined to be treated seriously and to achieve something. That was, strictly speaking, what her whole letter was about and the name fit just perfectly. Oione noted to actually may some attention to that boy next time she sees him, he had helped her without knowing it, after all.
"Oh, you're so heartless" Oione scoffed but couldn't quite hide the amusement, she always found it ridiculously hilarious how Seth ranted with a sort of disapproving enthusiasm and his Irish accent. However, what suprised her was the fact that Seth actually noticed this boy while...she didn't, it wasn't the right way around as Oione liked to think of herself as extremely observative. It turned out that she was somewhat mistaken. "Of course I would have helped with his homework!" she grinned and him, leaning into her comfortable spot and reading the letter over in search for mistakes and checking if it was convincing enough, with 'Yours sincerely, Jude Milton' written at the end.
She could tell Seth was boiling himself in curiousity as she glanced at his briefly over her letter. It wasn't mistrust that kept her from telling him, even though the girl was sure he felt betrayed and he had right to be, if they swapped places Oione would probably feel exactly the same if not having a fit of tantrums and needing to kill something fast. Truth to be told, Seth was the only person Oione really trusted and nobody else could ever take up his place, but he also had his secret about the real purpose of his Christmas trip (and even if Oione was rather certain she had worked that one out already it wasn't because Seth was honest with her). She would tell him when the time was right.
"Depends on what does 'that shite' mean in your dictionary" she said with a vague smile, neatly folding the letter.
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Post by Seth Silver on Nov 30, 2006 18:03:29 GMT -5
Seth shrugged, scrutinising her.
'Marzel,' he answered nonchalantly. 'And Lupin.'
Both members of the Prefectdom, or, in Lupin's case, Head Boydom. Both friends of Oione. And Seth loathed them with every fibre of his bitter, wiry being.
He pursed his lips thoughtfully, drumming his knuckles on the table and watching Oione out of the corner of his eye. Seth liked to think he had perfected disinterest. He was rather good at covering emotion when he truly wanted to, having learnt that getting away with things required a certain ability to cover things up. A good story only took a boy so far. If he wore his heart on his sleeve, Seth would not have got very far in life.
Doing his best to look disinterested, he asked in his whining-six-year-old voice, 'Yeer not really gahn'to help feckin' Milton, are ye? Annoying - that's what he is. Don't know how to keep his feckin' mout in his head, do he? Runnin' his toongue and all.'
Just after the homework incident, Seth had heard the "Moodblood" wagging his tongue to sympathisers.
Milton frowned, stopping in mid-sentence to consider what he ought to say. He saw Silver out of the corner of his eye and smirked to himself. Silver thought he was well-hard, but Milton was sure the boy didn't have an ounce of brain to his head.
'And then,' he carried loudly, drawing the attention of the group back to his own pink face, 'he's got the audacity to call me a filthy Mudblood, and all that considering!'
Perfect English accent, like something from the WWN. Seth balled his hands into fists, hovering in a corner and imagining the many ways he could kill Jude Milton. A vein worked furiously in his temple as he observed the scene, and he clenched his teeth to stop himself hexing the other boy within an inch of his life....
'I mean, honestly, you'd think he might be intelligent enough to realise what a hypocrite he was being, but since when has Silver ever been known for intelligence? (This drew another bout of sniggers from the group) And that accent. He sounds drunk half the time, and the rest is just - Salazar, it's awful.'
And so it went on for a good ten minutes; Milton insulted Seth in all the unoriginal ways he could think of, and Seth, who had heard all of this many times before from various groups such as these, smirked to himself as he imagined Milton wetting himself and crying while trying to save his neck.
'As if he's got any right to be hovering around Oione!'
Since when was Milton on a first-name basis with Seth's best mate?
'Probably thinks her glamour will rub off on him or something. Poor fool.'
And it was here, amidst a crowd of laughing fourth years, that Seth chose his moment to stride up to Milton and show him what a poor fool could do to a stupid fourth year's face. The other boy shouted for his friends to stop, but they were too caught-up in the show to be of any help. It was with great satisfaction that Seth drove his fist again and again into Milton's stomach, grunting with effort of holding the boy down and punching him at the same time. When one of the onlookers finally decided it had gone too far, he stepped forward, gently taking Seth by the arm so as not to become the victim himself, and pulling him from the other boy. Milton stood, fury sweeping across his face in great waves, but Seth merely brushed himself off, shrugged, and said, 'Dat, ye daft feck, wurs prohpre pa'fectic.'
'Oh, yeah, Milton's brilliant, though really. By all means, help him out with his work, why don't ye? And tell him Seth think the colour red goes really well wiv his snivelling face.'
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Post by Oione Mireault on Nov 30, 2006 18:42:26 GMT -5
"I'm not writing to either of them, if that'll cheer you up" Oione said brightly, putting her neatly folded letter into an envelope. The family crest wouldn't be needed as she already used a false name. "I still don't know why do you hate them so much in the first place." Because she truly didn't. OK, perhaps Seth really had the right to hate Cecil Marzel after the infamous incident at the schack.
She laughed and shook her head, Oione always thought it was the girls that constantly fought...or at least she was the one that constantly fought with other girls, especially her fellow Slytherin dorm mates, by odd reason she couldn't breathing the same air they did, even though she was perceived as one of them if not the queen bee (as some liked to say) but Oione knew she didn't quite fit in.
"Oh, it wasn't about Milton" she huffed irritably, standing up and taking her letter. "It was more about you, actually. The brilliant part, that is" Well, it was Seth that emphasised the name (however disgusted he might have been while doing it), after all and being actually relatively nice to him wouldn't hurt either. But then she narrowed her eyes at him in a mild warning. "You haven't beaten him up, have you?" Though she expected that one had already been answered.
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Post by Seth Silver on Nov 30, 2006 19:07:22 GMT -5
Raising an eyebrow as if to say "me?", Seth trained his eyes to the table. He was rather proud of his reputation as "troublemaker" in Hogwarts, and worked very hard to keep it up. Part of that entailed the occasional fight, and though the mater complained that he was becoming more like Augustus every day, he was pleased with himself. No one bothered Seth Silver without retribution, and that went double for back-talking little Mudbloods like Milton.
'Milton got his,' the boy assured her, nodding his head to back it up.
Seth's face flushed with satisfaction as he remembered Milton's sad little whimpering.
'Pa'fectic, that one. Whinges like a feckin' gurl.'
For all of this, Seth had nearly forgotten being angry with Oione. He was easily distracted, always had been, by the simplest of things. Beating up fourth years was one of the those simple things.
Twisting his fingers, he made a face at the bruised knuckles and muttered something unintelligable.
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Post by Oione Mireault on Nov 30, 2006 19:26:09 GMT -5
Oione sighed. She couldn't really understand why Seth had to punch every single person in this school just to prove his point, albeit it had its good side too. Or had to have it somewhere. With Oione it was lisghtly different. By adults of the likes of Avery or Nott or even Rookwood she was usually underestimated, a good candidate for a pureblood trophy wife for their sons but hardly anything more. At school it was quite the reverse, other students met the end of her wand one time too many to even consider not moving out of her way. However, she was one of the favourite and ever-green topics in the Hogwarts' gossip center, namely the girls' bathroom. She put up with it and didn't really mind. The only thing that never failed to get on her nerves was insulting Seth in her opinion or when they thought she couldn't hear them. Last time Zabini did it, with that plastered fake grin of hers Oione wanted nothing more than to kill her so slowly the girl would feel every single part of her when it died.
"Let's just drop that Milton, alright?" I don't even think I know how he looks like...Oh,well. "I'm off to the Owlery"
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Post by Seth Silver on Nov 30, 2006 19:55:13 GMT -5
'Fine.'
Squaring his shoulders, Seth stood and pushed in his chair. He was done with talking for the night. Exhausted and feeling ill, he wanted nothing more than a long sleep. But, something held him back. He wanted to go with Oione and see where she sent her letter off to. Why did she need to go off tonight? Couldn't any post wait until morning, when the owls were not off hunting? If the letter was for Snape, then why couldn't she just deliver it to him herself? Unless, of course, she had absolutely no intention of writing or posting a letter to Snape! But then, who?
'Think I'll go with ye, if ye don't much mind. I can't sleep so early.'
Insomnia. This was the one disease Seth believed he might suffer. For all the problems his mother had mentally, he seemed to have inherited her inability to fall asleep properly at night. 1 'o clock was early for Seth, who sometimes stayed awake straight through to the morning, only to find himself falling asleep in his cauldron during double potions. That had earned a detention, that one, and a threat of suspension, if he ever let it happen again. Snape never allowed anyone to be careless in his class, no matter what the circumstance.
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Post by Oione Mireault on Dec 1, 2006 12:42:03 GMT -5
The infamous would have been fine when sent in the morning, apparently though Oione Mireault was too impatient to even be considering postponing it till morning, besides she also had purely practical reasons such as Seth going to sleep. Sadly, it seemed that out of all the people in the school she just had to have the worst of luck and befriend an insomniac. She was quite sure that Seth would go to his dorm immediately after getting out of Snape's detention, however it turned out that curiousity could effectively keep him awake, much to Oione's dismay.
"Yes, I do mind, as a matter-of-fact" she said, already at the door, giving him a mildly threatening glance over her shoulder, knowing that it was to no avail because Seth was just as stubborn as she was. Not waiting for him she went out, half hoping that he would just faint from exhaustion (which probably was the only thing that could restrain him from going with her).
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Post by Seth Silver on Dec 1, 2006 16:11:36 GMT -5
Seth snorted, shuffling out after Oione. She wasn't stopping him going if her life depended on it. He had grown up surrounded by pig-headed, stubborn people. Augustus and the mater, the Lestranges, the Blacks, the Notts, the Mireaults. And if there was one lesson they had all taught him, it was that being stubborn could get him his way if he had the strength to back himself up. Of course, Augustus was far too great a match, but the mater and Oione? Forget about it. Everyone boys were stronger than girls when it came to a test of physical strength.
'I wasn't askin'.' He was silent for a good while, brown eyes taking in the dark corridors until his pupils had become the size of dinner plates. Shoving his fists into his pockets, Seth marched on silently and followed Oione down the long path to the Owlery. Of course, it was very simple for the Gryffindors, who lived in a tower, to reach the Owlery. The Ravenclaws in their cozy little common room had no troubles, and even the Hufflepuffs were closer than the Slytherins were, right at the very bottom of the school.
'Look, I'm not asking ye why yeer writin' a letter this time of the night, and ye can at least return the favour. I'm coomin' t'the Owlery wi' ye, no questions asked, OK? Give me a bit of a break, after all, yeer dear friend all but smashed me feckin' cheek in today.'
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Post by Oione Mireault on Dec 1, 2006 16:57:38 GMT -5
The Slytherin Common Room was unfortunately located in the dungeons, which Oione found to be a rather cruel joke from whoever planned settling in there, since they were supposed to be the elite and surely aristocracy did not reside in the dungeons apart from the times of revolution when they did reside there shortly before being behaded or meeting death in any other way, to the joy of spectators. Getting to up to the Owlery from this pit was a risky bussiness, though Oione suspected even the Head Students were fast asleep right now. As for teachers, they had been on such late night trips before and knew how to avoid school staff members.
In the silky darkness she could hear the faint snoring of portraits. She already gave up on trying to discourage Seth from going with her, Seth never really listened and this time wasn't going to be any different. 'Fine' she snapped and if not for the dark Oione would have been glaring daggers at him. 'And don't you bring my dear friend up again. You smashed his nose, as far as I'm concerned. Don't play the victim now. It was all your fault"
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Post by Seth Silver on Dec 1, 2006 17:16:24 GMT -5
'All my fault, was it?' Seth hissed angrily, speeding up so as to be side-by-side with her. 'And I don't suppose ye tink yeer feckin' mate done no wrong, do ye? Cos din' he kick me, or am I imag'un'n tings? Din' he as good as break me cheek, din' he?'
It was perhaps one of Seth's greatest faults, this inability to accept that he was not always the victim. He played the role far too often for his own well-being, mostly at school, as it rarely got him very far in Limerick, where mea culpa was the mantra his life followed. Seth knew enough about the Muggles in Limerick to be able to pass for one if he wanted to. He knew the difference between a pesbyterian, a papist, or someone who just didn't care. He knew what confession was, and why the Muggles did so, but he could not for the life of him comprehend why anyone would want to admit their sins to a senile man who resembled a member of the Spanish Inquisition. Augustus had grown up in Limerick, knew the customs of the place and how to get on well there. He also knew the Church, had considered himself a Catholic for a time during his twenties, and held onto the philosophy of mea culpa to pass on to his only heir.
'Fine, ye think yeer good mate's a feckin' angel. Fine by me.'
Seth was gifted at giving people the cold shoulder. Salazer knew he did so enough to his mother to be quite experienced with it, and yet tonight he found he simply couldn't do it.
'But he's a bloody useless bastardt, he is!'
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Post by Oione Mireault on Dec 1, 2006 17:34:50 GMT -5
"Then why did you have to follow us? I would have been fine on my own!" Oione asked with exasparation, at least a tone tooo loud as it caused one of the paintings to stir and mumble something that sounded like 'oi, quiet there'. Ah, they were at it again. Howevern odd it seemed though. Oione could no longer feel angry with Seth upon his fight with Cecil, now she was just mildly annoyed. It wasn't that she found Cecil Marzel to be archangel Gabriel, but it was Seth who followed uninvited, babbling like looney and giving everyone except for himself a headache. "I don't go dogging you around" she was about to add some snark remark about Potter but stopped herself just in time. Wouldn't want to look as if she cared too much, after all.
"Oh, c'mon Seth" she said more brightly, trying to cheer him up a little. "I'm not even friends with him." Well, that was true. True-ish. Oione suspected that the both of them didn't really know what it was, calling it a friendship was the easiest thing but they knew nothing about each-other and played cat and mouse half the time.
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Post by Seth Silver on Dec 2, 2006 10:45:21 GMT -5
'Not friends, my arse,' Seth huffed, but he let the matter drop. It wasn't worth getting into a fight all over again, not when he had worked so hard in Snape's detention just to get her to laugh. Perhaps some French would soften her up again? He licked his lips, eager to lighten the mood. 'Desole. C'etait mauvais de moi pour moi etre une imbécile. Souvenez, je ne faites des excuses jamais en anglais. Mais, je dis ces a francais.'
It was difficult to manipulate his mouth into a French accent, and though he had butchered the language completely, Seth was sure Oione would soften a bit more, and maybe be more disposed to telling him about her mystery letter. She was, after all, keeping something from him that was right before his very eyes. But, if he went to the Owlery with her, he might be able to hear who she sent it to, and then write to the person himself.
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Post by Oione Mireault on Dec 2, 2006 18:34:09 GMT -5
It had caught her off guard a bit. Not his butchered French, however, but that he was apologizing, which was unbelievable when applied to him. Neither Seth nor Oione did not say they were sorry whatever they did and nothing changed when the matter involved both of them. They just forgot about their stifes and let it be, that was why it suprised Oione so, she did not expect Seth to apologize, much less in French. "Vous n'avez pas besoin de demander pardon" she whispered back quickly.
Butchered it may have been, but it never failed to soften Oione a bit even though she rarely showed it. Albeit, this time suspicion and alert crept in. She had to send the letter somehow without Seth hearing to whom it was, not only because it would result in further questions but also because they boy was likely to do something stupid that could shred Oione's wondrously knitted plan to pieces. "Nice try" she beamed. "But it takes more than that to butter me up. Vous devez essayer plus dur. If you think I will tell you to whom I'm writing" she added slyly, fanning herself with the large envelope. "Forget about it, mon ami " Abruptly she stopped and lit the tip of her wand, lighting the whirly stairs that led to the tower of Owlery.
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Post by Seth Silver on Dec 3, 2006 11:30:13 GMT -5
Lighting his own wand, Seth followed, cursing himself mentally. Of course Oione wasn't going to be so easy. She'd probably lock him out or something before he even reached he top, all for the sake of her precious secret letter. Oh, well. Oione couldn't keep a secret from Seth forever. Sooner or later, he worked things out for himself. And, though it was later more oft than not, he did not doubt his abilities. After all, Oione only befriended intelligent people, right?
'Don't tell me, then. I'll wait. I can wait.' Seth's English accent, which he rarely used in its entirety, was something of a cross between Irish, Scottish, and perfect BBC English, with perhaps a bit of a Yorkshire twist to it. It was complicated and inconsistent, but it made him sound more intelligent, he thought, than the Irish he had grown up with. Mater took great stock in English accents. An accent was an important part of life in Ireland. Had he grown up with a North of Ireland sort of accent, people would have taken differently to him in Limerick. His mother's family required him to speak with an English accent, Augustus's with a Limerick, Wilkes with whatever he chose to, and Hogwarts was a horrible mix that depended entirely on the boy's mood.
'You will tell me, though. Or I shall find out on my own. I'm really not so stupid when I set my mind to it, you know.'
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Post by Oione Mireault on Dec 3, 2006 18:57:42 GMT -5
Oione sighed briefly, the only sign of impatience that she allowed herself to show as her tiny shoes clicking on the narrow stone stairs.
"Seth, I will tell you soon. I promise" she said with suprising patience for someone gifted with such unpredictable temper. "But I can't. Not yet." It was painfully obvious to her that she would have to grant Seth his wish and tell him everything she planned, especially since it involved the boy personally. However, she needed to be absolutely sure that what she was doing would give a satisfactionary effect and not lead her to a disastrous end, turning out that she was wrong all along and therefore all the mayhem she caused and questions she asked did not mean a thing. Oione Mireault knew far too well how cruel fate could be to rely fully on her intuition. "It's not because I don't trust you" she added under her breath, her voice eerie and hallow, echoing between the walls of the narrow passage. But I also trust you to do something foolish about this, she added in her thoughts. Oione knew that Seth was perfectly capable of sorting this little mystery on his own and was aware that he was not stupid at all (even though she tended to forget that one bit, when he acted like an idiot). "Besides" she started conversationally. "I'm not the only one keeping secrets around here, eh?" This was fair enough. He couldn't constantly pry when Oione knew that he hid the true purpose of their Christmas trip.
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