STRAIGHT FROM THE SNAKE'S MOUTH [SCROPIUS]

[atsu apollo gaunt]

Yet another Hogsmeade visit had finally arrived for the students of Hogwarts. It was an occasion Atsu didn't mind attending, one of the few actually. It was the perfect get-away from the pressure of finals and constant studying. However, it could be a get-away from a lot of different things, for some. The brown-haired slytherin's jaw tensed as he passed along the snowy path leading down to the shrieking shack. His thoughts were muddled with the secrets he held, the dark spells he was teaching himself, and more than ever, the lingering stress he held, most recently with all the rowdy love-sick (pathetic) ladies and gents running around. This was the worst time of the year, with all that buzzing endless ramble from his female peers. Even some males had decided to sink so low. But no matter, it was just another annoying bug on his windshield as far as things went. Eventually it would pass and he could become more focused on the real matters at hand.

Atsu's walk was brought to a halt as he scaled the border of the fence dividing the snow hill and structure in the distance. The Shrieking Shack was a place he knew quite well, having visited it count-less times throughout his years here. It was ridiculous the way people feared it, it was just a building after all. But of course, the things that go on in their might not be for the weak at heart. A hidden smile of wickedness passed over the male's face as he thought in the past. Oh how naive some people could be though....

[scorpius hyperion malfoy]

Scorpius had found himself utterly loathing this time of year since he had arrived at Hogwarts. Previously he had enjoyed it, enjoyed the fuss his parents had made over it. After all, what child didn’t enjoy their birthday, when it was their own special day? But at Hogwarts, the loathing was incredibly strong. It wasn’t his day in this school, no. It was contaminated with pink and really disgusting to view mushiness. The chance to get out of the castle had been one the teenager had grabbed with both hands, even if when Hogsmeade trips usually occurred the usual way he spent the day was by staying in the library or in the slytherin common room. Not with the crowds of students wandering through the village, that was for certain. Yet when the pink came around each year, he found getting into the village (or more to the point out of the castle) little more than a brief moment of relief.

The amount of people who populated the village; students moving in and out of the joke shops and the sweet shops and even the inns and pubs and tearooms (where there was even more pink), was too great for a boy who had a dislike of crowds to really enjoy, however. Not matter if it was time outside of the castle. Scorpius usually found himself moving in the direction of the shrieking shack. While it may have been recorded as the most haunted building in britain, Scorpius had never felt anything other than peace when around it. The lack of other people was a blessing... as well as, perhaps, the fact that he could not hear if there were any of the screams or shrieks or growls or... other sounds that had been recorded in the descriptions of the building.

He sat on the ground beyond the border fence, a drying charm having be cast of the rock he had chosen as his seat, legs crossed into an almost yoga like position and a book resting on his lap. Warming charms lining his cloak and filling the air around him kept him relatively comfortable even in the cold chill that often came in the month of February. It was in places like this that he could simply sit and be in his own little world, without threat of having anything pink thrown in his direction, or the threat of seeing something disturbing, like the overly public displays of affection other students were fans of.

Yet he still kept half an eye on the surrounding area, even with the book before him. Somethings could not be helped, after all... and it was the Shrieking Shack. So when movement flared in the corner of his eye, Scorpius tensed slightly despite himself. He didn’t look up from the pages, didn’t move, and couldn’t make out who, or what, it was... but still, the peace wasn’t entirely intact any longer. He’d probably be irritated by that later.

[atsu apollo gaunt]

Eventually Atsu found himself getting bored with the bland, uneventful building. The only real activity it had at the moment was the broken shutter slamming back and fourth from the wind. Other than that, it was just what it's always been, a shabby run-down shack. The teen had really just come out here to get away from everyone. God how he hated crowds! It was rare to find anyone out here, especially during the assorted 'festivities' going on in the main square...

His stature remained like that of a tree-stump, still and unwavering despite the bitter cold biting at his pale skin. Dark eyes scanned the outskirts in-front of the distant surroundings. The trees and under-brush were bare and corpse-like in their frigid shape. Atsu's peripheral vision eventually caught a glimpse of something out of place. A brief splash of bright color among on the dark-shade of the trees. He angled his head over to get a better view. He was half-surprised to find a person sitting there with what looked like a book in their lap. Well, it wasn't totally unorthodox. Atsu himself has seen many people sit themselves down in a secluded area to read or do Merlin knows what. It wouldn't have been that much of an issue for the stoic Slytheirn, but this particular person he could recognize from quite a distance. The hair usually gave it away after all.

Scorpius Malfoy. Not so much the face but the name gave Atsu the sudden urge to cringe. What a pathetic excuse for a member of pureblood society! Atsu had heard all about the boy's father, grand-father too. How they had openly spoken in the presence of Lord Voldemort himself. An honor many wished they could have been presented with... But the Malfoy family had taken that honor and soiled it into the ground. Failures littered that household, and as far as Atsu was concerned, Scorpius was all the more. Given his state of muteness, well that was just part of the curse they now held, wasn't it? Whatever the case, Atsu had no intention of ever allowing him or any of the Malfoy family back into the Deatheater group. In fact, the diary had mentioned specifically not to allow 'those blood-traitors' back into the pact.

Slowly deducting the male from his safe-distance, or was it so safe? His scanning eyes narrowed slightly. It was possible he could have been noticed by Scorpius, but if so, why hadn't he looked up and acknowledged him? Somehow this unknown reality, the one where he (Atsu) wasn't being acknowledged by this blood traitor, nettled him. It was a part of Atsu that took over in times of superior standings. Those deep-rooted traits most of the Gaunt family had, the prideful scorn of a true pureblood. Atsu felt so motivated to go over to the dumb prefect, just to see how much he could make him tick.
what harm could be done? he probably won't even understand what I say... Atsu let out a light scoff in spite of himself, shifting his gaze away briefly to pretend to study his black shoes, barely showing under the Slytherin robes he had on. His hand absently drifted above the wand within those robes. Would a duel unleash between him and the Malfoy boy while they were both out here? Alone and unattended for by their peers? Ha! That would be a bit too easy, and why in the world would he want to risk detention by attacking first? As much as Atsu hated to say it, Scorpius was the prefect of their house this year, a position he himself could have taken if he'd wanted, he'd intentionally turned down the first offer he'd gotten back in his fifth year. He made it clear that he'd be much too busy for such a responsibility. Studies were always first for him. At least, that's the half-lie he'd told the headmistress.

Blinking back over toward the blonde-haired male, Atsu's expression kept the same hardness it held before, but if the other Slytherin could even see his eyes, he'd see how they'd turned from that mild emptiness to a daring fancy. Atsu wasn't the white chess-board piece; at least, not in his mind. All this was a set game in the dark wizard's mind, he wanted to see what Scorpius would do first. It was his move after all. He was just waiting to act on it. Atsu tended to be this way with all his victims, or erm, classmates, with any situation, he didn't initiate it. For if he did that, he'd be liable for whatever certain harm may or may not be done. Funny way to think about it, but that was just how the seventh year thought. How he's always thought. It's one of the reasons he'd gotten away with plotting against the ministry, recruiting a secret Deatheater army in this very school, and getting away with murder.

[scorpius hyperion malfoy]

It was the Gaunt boy. Scorpius hadn't wanted to look, had wanted to hold onto the famous Malfoy trait of simply being stubborn for a few moments longer, but curiousity had itched beneath his skin in a way that was most annoying. At least, he told himself it was curiousity. In actual fact the blonde teenager knew fully well that curiousity only played a small part in the entire thing, as always. Instead, it was more the desire to not be sneaked up on, not to be surprised and not to be forced to humiliate himself without anyone having to do more than touch him without a warning he was able to interpret, which had him glancing upwards and turning his head after only a few moments to take in the sight of what he had caught approaching. The sight, the figure of the Gaunt boy, wasn't something he had expected. It sent a sinking feeling straight into his gut and had any form of peace and quiet disintergrate into nothing within him.

It would be a lie to say that the Gaunt boy had ever done anything to him. Scorpius would have felt a strong dissappointment in his house if the older boy had done, for no one in Slytherin could possibly be as forward as to openly pick on someone. But he knew what the other thought of him and, more importantly, of his family. The Gaunt boy was one of many within this school who considered, as far as Scorpius himself was aware, that because he was deaf he was also completely and utterly blind to everything going on around him. He didn't purposefully keep his abilities in lip reading a secret, for secrets were easy to notice for some people, but he kept it as something he did not deem important enough to draw attention to. As a result, people talked around him more freely than they would around others, without fear of being overheard. The imbeciles. The Gaunt boy was one of them.

Scorpius had long since grown used to slanders against his family. Many students in the halls of Hogwarts would look at him with sneers on their faces and words on their lips which were not suitable for anything like a 'friend' to hear. And he knew why. To the 'dark side', the Malfoy family were traitors, and had been since the last war. He knew that actions of his father and grandmother had come out in the trials which had condemmed his grandfather, and come out for all to hear. Why else would his father and mother have spent most of his own childhood outside of the country? But the 'light side' (and the terms 'light and dark' were pathetic, in his eyes; they completely missed out the shades of grey inbetween) considered the Malfoy's to be dark wizards, proven dark wizards. They had no friends on any side.

Or at least, they hadn't done. He was going to change that. As he had decided age eight.

Still, while he was comfortable around Gaunt at all, Scorpius would rather be cursed incredibly painfully than admit such a thing. So ok, his hand slipped inside his robes to grasp the familiar wood of his wand, and yes, the hexes he could perform well without words burned in his mind, ready to be flung. But outwardly, he remained cool and relaxed, observing the other for a few moments, before offering up little more than a direct insult by turning back to his book. As if the written word held more interest than the older boy. Which it did, in his mind, but the egos of teenagers were so vulnerable to even the most subtle of hits.