Prompt: Slytherin Enjy arguing with Ravenclaw knocker.
Fandom: Les Miserables
Characters: Enjolras, Bronze Knocker, Combeferre. Mentions of Enjoltaire and Epiferre.
Word Count: 855
The Ravenclaw Commons, suspended above a lengthy spiral staircase, was only obtainable by answering single (if even possible) riddle. While many were marked with easy answers and little laughs, some found themselves to be a bit more challenging, and very, very frustrating. Could the blue-tinted characters not have better hobbies than reading and answering impossible questions with grins upon their stony faces?
Enjolras was almost euphoric that he was a Slytherin, all because of this. Sure, he was placed in his House before he had been exposed to the poor (and didn't object to the Hat's suggestion), and of course he was irritated with the blood purity movements, but what was he supposed to do? Fret? Kick down the door to his best friend's home out of an emergency?
"Just let me in," the student whined, and the knocker twisted its beak upwards, offering him a little glare, if such things could happen. Nothing. There was nothing.
He supposed that he would have to answer the riddle, then.
A few seconds passed, and he stared with rage at the animated passlock, lips curling under as he took in another breath. His blond locks nodded in conformation, and the soft, aching voice began to speak again, letting out the riddle that he had since then tuned out.
"What is most valuable to the body: the mind, or the soul?"
Well, what was he to think to that? All Enjolras wanted to do was get in the common room! He wasn't going to do anything stupid (and he wasn't a Claw, for crying out loud). In fact, he was quite positive that they should have some sort of policy for guests. It didn't matter that they weren't supposed to enter their friends' common areas, nor did it matter that he had dressed himself in Combeferre's robes for this purpose.
He just wanted in!
"The soul, of course! Without the soul, one does not have the hope to save themselves from tyrants, from enslavement, and from the grim words of life and the forces of the heavens above!"
"Wrong."
"How can that be wrong? Fine; a mind. Without one, you don't know that you have a soul!"
"Wrong."
He ran a hand through his locks, staring at the knocker with a frown. "Good God! I just have to talk to someone! It's urgent!"
It almost regarded him with a little glare, and the student took a step back, as if he would catch fire. There was a little pause where the young man shifted awkwardly on his feet, and, in a soft voice, announced, "Well, it isn't that urgent. But I still need to get in."
Another pause.
"Wrong."
"Well, what's the answer, then?"
"Wrong."
He groaned. A hand reached to pinch the bridge of his nose, and feet kicked at the doorway. Stupid. This was so, so, so stupid. This was worse than the time that Eponine had them doing a drinking game in the middle of the Gryffindor commons. Oh, she should have known that they were all going to be pranked, every single one of them. You'd imagine that the daughter a con would have realized that Grantaire and he would be locked in a...
Oh.
Oh.
He was going to brutally murder her when he had the chance, even if it would make R upset, as she was his best friend, and would probably enrage Combeferre to the point of explosion. Which would be funny, but he was positive that everybody else would be infuriated that their lovely 'mother hen' was gone.
And nobody would be able to control Courfeyrac and Bahorel when they went off to wreak havoc.
"Just open the door!" he exclaimed, and Enjolras wasn't exactly certain if his anger was stemmed from the realization that his friends were carefully shoving them together, or the fact that he was getting more and more irritated with the lack of cooperation on the knocker's part.
"Wrong."
"Argh!"
Combeferre chose that time to enter, a crease between his shirt and his pants, very obvious lip stains dancing on his cheek. He gazed absently at the display before him, for a few moments, and then proceeded to laugh, leaning against the wall as he adjusted himself.
"Go ahead, Enj, answer it."
"You bloody well know I can't!" the marble man moaned, and, with a frown, attempted again. "Mind? You need your mind more?"
As it declined his response, the guide twisted a head, asking what the riddle even was. With it stated, he attempted to prod his friend in the correct direction. "Perhaps you could think more... tangible?"
"Tangible! No! Don't take that with me, 'Ferre! Um... Love! Pride! Power!"
Each statement was incorrect. As his patience grew thinner, Combeferre could not help but laugh, and offered a few suggestions. "Air? Substance? Existence? Grantaire?"
Each was said in turn, and although the young man turned to glare at his friend, the door swung open.
Needless to say, he wasn't exactly sure which one was the correct answer.