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Post by bryony on Feb 28, 2012 8:09:54 GMT
September, 1975 Bryony dozed as Binns went on and on and on. It was rather pleasant in a way. The room was warm, his voice a dull monotone, and her eyes began to droop. Her quill moved on, almost automatically, and she woke up enough to dip it into the inkwell from time to time, almost as if she were on autopilot. She had mastered the complicated but necessary skill of working half asleep in her first year, and by now this was just another routine.
She dipped her quill again, and woke up just as Binns was outlining some important points to be covered in the next quiz, and stopped as she heard a dull scratchy noise. Frantically she dipped her quill over and over again, but came out with nothing. She repeated his last sentence over and over again as she searched her bag frantically, with no luck. Running out of time before he moved on, she reached across Crane to snatch his bottle of ink and placed it exactly halfway between them, dipping quickly to continue where she left off, her mouth moving along with her writing. Relieved, she sighed with a little smile as she continued, her little panic attack bringing her fully awake this time. Frankly the class was boring as all hell, but she always took notes when future quizzes were covered, so she had an idea of what not to study.
She wrote serenely now, humming along quietly to a tune she heard last time she visited Daddy.
You're a shining star
No matter who you are
Shining bright to see
What you could truly be |
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Post by magnuscrane on Feb 29, 2012 2:35:52 GMT
Mac was never the type to slack off. Nor was he the type to spend an entire class period devoted to completing something totally unrelated to school work. He was in rare form, and vowed to make it up to Professor Binns in a couple of years, when he was rich and famous. Whatever the good professor had to say about ancient Greece was fascinating, he was sure, but Mac was on a mission and if everything went according to plan, it would change life as he knew it. Crap. Magnus dipped his quill and ran a line across the very last sentence written on the parchment. At the rate he was going, he'd be as old as the Headmaster before finishing the damn thing. There were more things crossed out on the pages than actual solid sentences, and he was growing increasingly frustrated. It all seemed to flow so well in his head. He never imagined authoring a romance novel would pose such a challenge. With the coming of the Renaissance and the increasing reliance among Muggles on scientific reasoning, the break between the Wizarding and Muggle worlds becomes more and more complete. Mac looked up to make sure the professor still remained positioned at his safe little spot behind the podium, and wasn't floating around, not that he ever did. Binns was as predictable as they come, which made it all the more easier to get away with what he was doing. Mac smiled smugly to himself, and reached out again to dip his quill, only it wasn't there. He was so engrossed with his writing, he didn't even notice the girl next to him had a bad case of sticky fingers. He was more amused than anything, but the fact that she couldn't take the two seconds to ask, bothered him enough to react negatively. Without uttering a syllable, Mac slipped the parchment right out from under her quill and tucked it neatly into his own stack. |
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Post by bryony on Feb 29, 2012 3:11:46 GMT
Bryony pretended to stare at Binns through her closed eyelids, her scribbling keeping perfect time with his babble. It wasn't hard, he had drifted into quoting the textook verbatim, so she just relaxed and went with the flow. This went on for a while, and she managed to catch a word now and then, reassured he hadn't drifted from his script.
Don't think for a minute Bryony had a disregard for history or wizarding heritage. Far from it. But the unchanging tone of the professor, his hour long monologues with almost no pause, and the obvious fact this was simply a recitation he had performed for time unknown with no deviation from the script - it would have bored any normal person to tears, let alone a fidgety fourteen year old girl who would rather have been in a more active class. Why did she take it, then? Simple. With harder classes for her electives, she felt she needed a class where she could catch up if needed, and study other things, unnoticed. Today it wasn't necessary though, and she was fine with appearing to conform, and take a well deserved nap, now that the quiz material was over and more mundane things were being lectured.
She didn't move from her position, her cheek on her balled up fist, eyes mostly shut, free hand making the quill move across the page idly, even though a lot of it was strange swirly patterns that had no meaning. Then her quill wasn't even doing that, because suddenly she found herself writing on the desk. Her eyes shot open, and she looked down at the desk, horrified to see the ink smears. She snapped her head around to glare at Magnus, who was busy shuffling her paper in with his. Smart arse
She snatched the pile from in front of him, and began riffling through it for her paper hurriedly. She wanted to cover her marks on the desk before someone spotted it, and hoped to have a chance to clean it up quietly before she left, without anyone noticing. Without even meaning to, she began to read a little off of each page as she scanned them, her lips moving along silently. This didn't look like History of Ma--
She stopped reading, and spotted her name sticking out of the pile and snatched it. Wordlessly, face red, she put the pile back in front of him and pretended neither of them existed.
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Post by magnuscrane on Feb 29, 2012 17:25:33 GMT
If swiping her notes wasn't enough to satisfy his desire for revenge, having her scribble all over the desk certainly did it, even though it really wasn't what he intended to happen. Her transition from a state sleepiness and oblivion to an expression of absolute horror was hilarious and sent him into a fit of hysterical laughter that could only be stifled by putting his head down on the desk and pretending to cough. This went on for a minute or two, until he felt the parchment slipping out from under his arm, and his head jerked up. It was HIS turn to be horrified.
Magnus was not ashamed of his writing. It was something he loved to do even as a small child and since then, many people, adults and even his own peers, have expressed concern over Magnus investing so much time in something that will never work out for him. Such comments mean nothing to him, and at fourteen Mac is finally able to write and keep writing without giving a damn about anyone's input.
This new story happened to be his most precious. It all came to him in a dream one night over summer holiday and has been the source of many sleepless nights and skipped meals ever since. He was determined to finish it by the end of the term and have it published before September. His literary masterpiece was going to be released all over the world, translated into as many languages as possible, winning the hearts of even the harshest critics. None of that would happen, however, if someone were to get their grubby little hands all over his work and steal his ideas.....WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT THIS GIRL WAS DOING
A surge of panic shot through his entire body and at that moment Magnus knew he'd have to retrieve those papers by any means necessary. The object closest to him happened to be the class textbook, a suitable enough weapon to smack the girl unconscious. The book firmly grasped in both hands, he scooted his chair closer to her. He was ready....he was going to do it....she was going to get it...5..4..3...2...oh my God Mum would smack me senseless if I got expelled. With that, he placed the book back on the desk and began prepping himself for a nice long tearful plea. Once again, he was so caught up with his own dramatics, he didn't notice the papers were actually right in front of him once more. Magnus was so overcome with relief he began to cry.
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Post by bryony on Feb 29, 2012 18:20:17 GMT
Bryony was torn between dismay and terror, and a twinge of shame. Crane was crying What had she done? Sure, she took his papers, but look! They were back! Oh god. Someone was going to rat her out to her dad, or report this and she was never going to live it down.
Bryony was completely lost as to what to do. Now she felt like she should be crying, just by association. She began to whimper, and poked him hesitantly. She had never seen a boy cry before, unless they were grievously injured, or sedated. Her eyes were huge and panic stricken as she pulled his sleeve.
"Hey...hey...I'm sorry. Look, your papers are here...please don't be mad...People will stare if you don't calm down...Please...I'll do anything...I'm sorry..."
She dug in her book bag for a handkerchief and only came up with a spare sock she had thought long lost. How it ended up in her bag was a mystery, but any sock in a storm, a sock in the hand is worth two in the bush, whatever. She rolled it up and tried to make it look more handkerchief like, and put it in front of him. "Here..."
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Post by magnuscrane on Feb 29, 2012 21:49:21 GMT
Magnus loved a good cry. Whether out of misery, happiness, or he was just plain having a good day, he was known to shed a tear. In this particular instance, he just couldn't stop. Magnus was just so thrilled to be reunited with his baby, and that it was finally freed from the clutches of that hag. He did have to pull himself together after a while, though, because people were starting to stare and it would be absolutely mortifying if the professor stopped in the middle of lecturing to inquire as to why he was crying like a little girl.
He fumbled around for a bit in search of the handkerchief his father passed down to him, before remembering it was still in his trunk. They had to be tissues in his bag somewhere if only he could---
The search was cut short, as he was blindsided by the apology. Normally he would have felt terrible for making her think he was that upset, but she was just so desperate to make him feel better, it was funny.
Wide eyed and bottom lip quivering, he accepted the handkerchief and began dabbing his eyes. "Thank you.." he whispered, sobbing once for good measure. When the tears finally ceased, he blew his nose into the handkerchief and folded it over. The fabric was different from his own and he wondered if it was foreign. In order to examine it better, he held the handkerchief by the tip and shook it out, realizing immediately that it was a damn sock.
He blew his nose and rubbed his eyes with someone's nasty, sweaty, athlete's foot infested sock.
ARGH!!!!!
He flung the fungus sock into the air and watched as it landed in Bryony's lap. Good. Serves her right.
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Post by bryony on Feb 29, 2012 22:57:56 GMT
Magnus thanked her then they both proceeded to make love. (I'd rather have rolled with that, but oh well) Bryony stared at him, hoping with every fiber of her being he'd stop. It was disturbing, and if he hadn't looked so upset at first, she'd have sworn he was actually enjoying it. When he finally did, and began wiping his eyes, she wanted to kind of pat him on the back or something, but was scared it would launch him into a new series of sobs, which she didn't want to watch again. She watched him turn her sock over, looking confused at first, which confused her in return. It was a sock, he was wearing them now, for crying out loud. It wasn't the holy grail, or the map to King Solomon's mines, it was a garment intended to cover naked feet--and suddenly it was airborne, landing her her lap, open and nasty. "AAAAAAAAAAH! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeew!" she shrieked in a girly voice higher than she ever though she could produce and threw it in the air, as hard and as fast as she could with the tips of two fingers, without giving it a second thought.... Until it flew directly through Professor Binns, hitting the blackboard with a squish, heard clearly as the class had fallen completely silent by now, and the offending sock slid down the blackboard and onto the floor, leaving a slight trail behind. |
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