?

Log in

No account? Create an account

augury_gold in augury_rpg

Who: Anthony, Michael and Hannah
What: Things didn't go exactly as planned
Where: Great Hall
When: Breakfast, December 16, 1997
Status: Incomplete


The first thing Anthony thought about when he read the news this morning was his sister Sarah. Just when things were getting better at home since Rachel had been released from her three week sentence at the local detaining center, now this happened. His older sister Sarah, who was planning on marrying her Muggleborn fiance Eli in April, would be devestated to learn that marriage would not be legal. But then again, at this point, Sarah was probably more worried that Eli would be arrested - or worse - that she might not be that concerned about their ruined nuptials. Just the same, Anthony had every intention of writing home today, to check in with everyone.

Closing the paper and pushing it aside, Anthony dipped a knife into a jar of butter and spread it onto a piece of warm cinnamon toast.  He took a bite, just as his best mate Michael took a seat down beside him.

Comments

Michael had propelled himself inside of the Great Hall quickly, not because of a time constraint but because being awake all night had given his body the chance to realize just how hungry it was. His bolt was guided by his stomach. "Hey mate," Michael greeted warmly to Anthony, clapping his head gently in an affectionate hold before he sat down next to Terry. "Terry, you must have a tapeworm. Slice at a time, man!"

Michael grinned as Terry was shovelling toast into his mouth without really swallowing, somehow managing to pour pumpkin juice down in between. "Mfthkyumph." Was Terry's response, along with a foodstuffed sneer.

Michael chuckled, turned to Anthony and pointed to Terry, "Should I be scared that I know what he actually said? Fuck you, right?" Michael said, jerking his head back to Terry, who nodded with a packed cheek, cheeky and supremely amused grin.

Michael looked down at Anthony's toast, "Merlin that smells good."
"Well, seven years of friendship is bound to have unusual results," replied Anthony before taking enough bite. After he finished chewing, he continued. "The Ability to decipher words with a full mouth, identify a mate by his snore, determine how long it's been since he showered by his smell."

He tossed Michael a piece. "Enjoy!"
Michael caught the toast against his puffed out, thin chest and let it fall into his palm, neverminding the residue it left. "Brilliant, thanks." He grinned, taking a liberal first bite. His eyes moved up, their greyness amused before the boy stuck his beaky nose up into the air and inhaled. "Uhh... twenty, maybe thirty minutes." Michael said, pointing to Anthony. His finger turned to Terry, "Two or three weeks, I'd say."

Terry scoffed, "Mfthkyumph!!"

Michael grinned and pointed with his thumb, "Yep. Definitely 'fuck you'." Seeing Anthony's juice was emptying, Michael reached for the glass caraf and with a backhand 'I'm cool' motion poured it to the brim.
"Dankeschön, meines Freundes" Anthony replied, before taking a sip. "So, did you get a chance to look at the paper today?" It was getting more and more difficult for Anthony to withhold his true opinion of what was going, but he knew that they must continue to be covert - at least for the time being. "Let's just say that I don't think Sarah will be pleased with his."

Anthony glanced up. "Don't even think about it," he said, as he saw Terry's hand inch its way across the table.
"No, lets see," Michael responded, brow knitting. He had religiously been collecting the paper since all this madness had begun- now Michael avidly avoided it. There was no mistaking it- the Prophet was just a propaganda rag now. Still, it did have the occasional story that usually dismayed more than uplifted.

"Oh bloody fuck, you're kidding me." Michael scowled. "Wait, isn't Sarah marrying a Muggleborn?" Michael paused, shifting the paper down next to Terry's creeping hand- and then promptly raising it up and swatting it before setting it down. "Bad Terry." Terry snickered, as all this had become a game to him now.

He sighed and shrugged, "Well... she can still get married and be with him. Sarah's strong- and a piece of paper from the government isn't what counts. Its the commitment, right?" Michael was trying to be uplifting, but it was clear that this news bothered him.

"Well... while we're sharing..." Michael turned his juice by the rim, his fingers moving deftly. His voice became low and hushed. "Owen Cauldwell must've had cold feet. Dobby overheard that he was captured. He told me last night. Eleanor's safe."
"Sure, marriage is about commitment. But to lose the backing of the government and all the rights associated with it? Any children they have will illegitmate. If one of them were to die, the other will not be seen as a spouse, but as a "domestic partner". They could lose the children, any shared property." Anthony's words were hushed, so as not to attract the attention of anyone nearby. But he also knew that Michael already understood what this Purification Act really meant - to all future marriages and all those that were disolved as a result.

But Anthony's train of thought was derailed when Michael mentioned Owen. "Captured? How? There's no way he could have returned to the castle. He's not even old enough to apparate."
"Oh, believe me," Michael said with raise of his hands up in a stopping way, "I know how serious this is. And its completely insane, mate. I really feel for Sarah and well... pretty much everyone whos about to lose their spouse or parents in this. Its complete bollocks." Michael looked up, "But its not the end of the world, trust me. Couples like me have done it for centuries and we've managed." Michael bit his toast and talked while he chewed, "Keep in mind as soon as we win this, all this rubbish'll be repealed." He gestured then in a circle with his toast-hand and swallowed.

Michael sighed in frustration, "Yeah I don't understand. I mean I suppose he could have picked up how to apparate illegally, but we were in the bloody middle of nowhere. I don't understand how he could have gotten back even if he wanted to. I mean up until then, he was a ruddy mouse."
Anthony pondered the scenario for a moment, trying to figure out how it was possible. He was about to offer an outrageous suggestion when Professor Carrow strode past and Anthony was quick to seal his mouth. The last thing he wanted was that woman to over hear dialogue regarding this issue.

Carrow was passing by on the way to the Hufflepuff table. Heading directly to where Hannah was sitting, the older woman pulled out a letter from the folds of her robes and handed it over to the girl. "Miss Abbott," she said simply, but the look on her face showed that Professor Carrow was not pleased by the information she was giving Hannah. Anthony immediately took that as good news.
Instinctively, Anthony wanted to argue with her. To tell her it made no sense to stay if she had a way out. It was logic - pure and simple. But he couldn't say that, because he wanted her there...with him.

Anthony lifted his lips from her wrist and looked up at her through his unruly curls. It was times like these that he realized he was rubbish at saying what was really on his mind. There was just some things that couldn't be put into words. He'd have to find a way to show her instead.

Sliding his arm around her waist, Anthony lead Hannah into the greenhouses, where it was warm and full of life - a sharp contrast to the world outside.
Warmth came over Hannah, and only in part because she was no surrounded by the heavy heat of a greenhouse. Led inside by Anthony's wrapping arms, Hannah kissed the side of the Ravenclaw's mouth with a gentle, simple gesture that said so much.

She found herself against the warm stone wall, her mossy eyes a match with the surrounding foliage. Her own arms snaked around Anthony's neck loosely, her bandage freed hand touching stiffly but attentively in the back of his hair. Hannah knew how much Anthony liked fingers through his hair, and she offered it freely.
Running fingers through Anthony's hair bore a strange parallel to an owner scratching behind the ear of a dog - without the tail wagging. It awakened all his senses and sent strange prickles down his neck. But he resisted. "If it hurts," he contested, not wanting to cause her pain in exchange for his pleasure.

"I want to do something for you," Anthony whispered, placing one hand on her hip while he pressed the other against the wall behind her. His thumb traced along a hint of skin beneath the fabric of her shirt.
Hannah leaned back against the wall, her eyes deeply entrenched in Anthony's. "It doesn't hurt enough to stop," Hannah smiled and subtly shook her head. "And anyhow I like it..." She smiled then. With a deep breath, her pert bosom rose, pressing against Anthony's chest. She held it, subconsciously rolling her shoulder back some to keep the contact between them.

With Anthony's words, Hannah didn't want to ruin it with a banal verbal response. She just looked at him, her eyes giving permission. She wasn't sure what he wanted to do, but she trusted him.

She touched his face instead, to encourage him.
Hannah's permission would be all well and good if Anthony had the faintest idea where he was going with his intentions. In the end, he just gave into kissing her, in hopes that his mind would clear and his body would know how best to respond.

His lips pressed against hers, softly at first, before opening slightly to deepen the kiss. He leaned his body into hers, his free hand trailing down the thick fabric of her uniform skirt. Eventually his fingertips found the hem, just below the knee, and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Without realizing it, he started making small circular patterns on the skin of her knee, almost mimicking the movements of his tongue.
Eagerly, Hannah kissed him back, as if trying to drain Anthony of the fog in his mind and clarify his thoughts. She tasted his lips at first, then deeper she dug. She applied chaste tongue to his inner lips and then to his own tongue, her head tilting to the side.

Breaking the kiss for a moment, she rested her forehead to his, working her nose in a nuzzle against his more ample shaped equivalent. Raggedly a breath escaped her, anticipating and feeling Anthony's finger that was moving like a tongue. Her hand slipped down and she tried to touch Anthony's hip- to cup it. Ultimately she had to move her un-bandaged hand down and she fingers just below Anthony's navel.
Hearing her shorted breath gave Anthony a hint of confidence. His attention was splintered between the nuzzling of their noses and the curiosity of Hannah's fingers near his navel, but his left hand remained independant. At first, it stopped it circular pattern and rested itself fully just above her knee.

Her skin, initially cold from the outside air, was warming significantly beneath his touch. Leaning in to kiss her again, his fingers again grew adventurous, snaking their way ever so slightly up her inner thigh. An inch or two in, though, he hesitated.