"Oi, Tubby."
Grantaire raised his eyebrow and tilted his head slightly upwards, indicating that he was listening, but didn't want to break his line of eyesight from the book he was reading.
"Tubby," The 'y' extended into a childish whine, "Listen to me."
With the demand came a poke in the shoulder, causing Grantaire to frown and look up into the pouting face of Éponine.
"What?" Grantaire sighed, tiredly, "I'm trying to read."
"Read?" It was safe to say that Éponine's expression was surprised. "I didn't realise you read."
"Are you saying that you thought I was illiterate?" Turning back to his book, Grantaire tried to find the sentence he had been reading before, but couldn't, and felt his concentration instantly droop. "Oh fuck it, what do you want?"
"Well-" Éponine took a deep breath, and Grantaire knew instantly that he was going to like this offer. "My brother's made some friends, see. Wants us to go meet 'em."
Dread flooded Grantaire's stomach in an acidic pool of fire.
"Wh-what?" He threw his book down on the table and twisted in his armchair to look Éponine in the eye. "We have to go meet up with some arrogant firsties because they're your brother's friends?"
"Actually," She took another deep breath, avoiding Grantaire's eyes, "They aren't really firsties."
At this point, Éponine was looking anywhere she could apart from at Grantaire. That day, the House Elves had obviously been into clean, as the drab grey stone walls were free of cobwebs and stains and most of the tables had no books on them. It was an odd sight, but it gave Éponine something to look at.
Of course, this could be due to the fact that everybody else was actually in lessons, while Éponine, Grantaire and some 7th year - who was huddled in the corner muttering to himself - had a free period. God alone knows why, as it was the third day back and they had only had a double Transfiguration and Charms the day before, but neither of the sixth years questioned it. Together, they blabbed their way through their Transfiguration homework, and had now discovered that, even though free time was precious, they had no real hobbies apart from drinking. This was also an issue when the Quidditch season came into play, as there we then only certain days of the week that Éponine would allow herself to drink, causing a big upset and usually a big withdrawal breakdown usually about halfway through the year. Hence, they decided they should take up a new hobby, but had given up searching for a suitable one after the third hour of thinking.
"Oh God, don't tell me your brother's made friends with a load of Seconds?" Grantaire scrunched up his face, trying to imagine having to be introduced to a whole bunch of arrogant imbeciles who thought of themselves as "the bomb".
"Worse." Éponine sighed, making Grantaire's eyes widen. There wasn't much worse than Seconds, so what the hell could it be? "They're in our year."
She gave him a moment to let this information sink in, and was rewarded with a loud moan a few seconds later.
"Not the fucking House Unity creeps!" The sickening dread in Grantaire's stomach grew, "I- we have to go meet them?"
"'Fraid so." Éponine muttered, shuffling her feet slightly, before taking the weight off the back of the armchair Grantaire was sat in. "They have some sort of meeting tomorrow, at six. I- I guess we just turn up and see what happens."
"They'll kick our fucking arses - that's what'll happen," Grantaire grumbled, moving his legs so he was now horizontally sat in the chair, his legs dangling over the edge. "We better not take Scorp though – whilst I acknowledge that he's a pain in the arse, I have his murder pencilled in for February, so we'll have to wait."
Éponine nodded, agreeing without words that this would be an unthinkable idea. Discussing House Unity was one thing, but having a Malfoy turning up to the group would be rubbing it in their faces, and, seeing as these guys were supposedly Gavroche's new friends, they didn't quite want to do that just yet.
Grantaire breathed a heavy sigh, realising just how big of a task it was going to be to get in there and get along with them. This was going to take serious planning and perseverance.
"What time?"
"Tomorrow – six."
"Great." The brunette rubbed his eyes, tiredly. "What do they even do at those bloody meetings anyway?"
Éponine sighed, throwing herself on the armchair opposite Grantaire, arranging herself so they were in the same position.
"Guess we'll find out soon enough, huh?"
XXX
"Grantaire, for God's sakes, please, put the god damned bottle down for half an hour."
"Never," Grantaire half-yelled back, causing half the corridor to turn and stare at the two in confusion. They must have been an odd sight, stood outside what they believed was the Gryffindor common room entrance, but had no idea how to get inside. It was almost ten past six, and they were still hovering awkwardly, unsure as of how to proceed with getting into the meeting.
"Grantaire, please," Éponine was almost begging him, but was trying to keep the desperation of her voice, "These people might be utter arseholes, but at least try and act sober - my brother really likes these people and I don't want to fuck it up for him."
Grantaire simply stared at her, eyebrow raised. It was unlike her to care about her brother so much; she missed his goddamn sorting for Merlin's sake. However, it would take more than just a stare to break her, so she merely raised her eyebrows back, before breaking the eye contact and stopping a Gryffindor Firstie in the corridor by grabbing the back of his robes.
"Oi, midget," She pulled him towards her, turning so she could meet his eye. "What's the password?"
"I- I- H-Hippogriff-" The small boy squeaked out, "But- but there's a meeting now, you can't go in!"
But Éponine merely rolled her eyes and released him, giving him a small shove in the direction of his friends, who were all staring at this striking girl with fear in their eyes. Pathetic, Grantaire thought, Honestly, you'd think we were ogres or something.
"Hippogriff," Éponine said in a loud, clear voice, which appeared to annoy the woman in the painting.
"First, you physically assault a member of my house," Her high voice was piercing, and Grantaire had to resist the urge to cover his ears, "And then you demand entry? Who do you think I am? I'm not just going to let the enemy in withou- Ooh! Who was that? Stop- what are you doing!?"
The portrait swung open, and a tall brunette stuck his head out the opening, grinning apologetically.
"Sorry, she gets a bit fussy sometimes - hasn't quite adjusted to the times," He pushed the portrait open fully, ignoring the squawking of the lady in the portrait, and her demands for a meeting with the Headmistress.
"So, Slytherin, eh?" He remarked as he helped them through the portrait hole, which seemed a little high, even for Grantaire's standards, "Not had many of them here before."
"Actually," Grantaire grabbed Éponine's elbow and steered her carefully out of the path of a group of Seconds, "We're here because of Gavroche. Know him?"
"Short fella with the messy hair? That I do." They reached the group of people, mostly sat in armchairs and on sofas, calling out suggestions to a blonde student who appeared to be the scribe. "He's over there next to Courfeyrac - the one with the-"
"Oh, don't worry. We know Courfeyrac." Éponine said, coolly, her eyes fixed on the chatty brunette, Gavroche appearing to teaching him the rules of muggle poker.
Their companion winced, obviously expecting this.
"I was afraid you might." He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, but gestured for them to take a seat, "How long did he string you along for, then?"
Éponine's sharp eyes swivelled back round, an element of surprise hinted in them, which she quickly masked.
"Oh no, not like that," She said, quickly, not wanting to get confused with the sort of rabble Courfeyrac usually dated, "We're just well acquainted, thank you."
"Oh," The brunette looked a little startled at Éponine's frostiness on the subject, "Er, sorry."
"Apology accepted." Éponine said, gracefully, and then turned to tune into the conversation, which appeared to be a load of nonsense on the surface. The male shot Grantaire a confused look, but he just shrugged in response; no-one could even keep up with Éponine, let alone understand her oddities.
"We could go fishing, couldn't we?" A Gryffindor girl with a cheeky smile called to the blonde, who looked like he was about to burst, "Y'know - make a day of it, invest in a boat, pack a few sandwiches-"
"Maria," The blonde managed to get out through gritted teeth, "Please, sensible suggestions only."
"We should have a demonstration on the last day of term," The voice drifted up from the floor, just out of Grantaire's view, but Grantaire recognised it as the voice of the boy he sat next to in Charms class; Jehan, who, as he remembered, always had an immaculate hair braid, "If we do it before Christmas, everyone will be in good spirits, and there'll be less chance of arguments."
"Thank you, Jehan." The blonde said, sighing with relief, "Now, if you'll just give me a minute to write that down-"
"I can do it if you like, Enjolras." Gavroche piped up, tearing his concentration away from the game of poker that he appeared to be winning. "You talk, I'll write?"
"Er, that's okay, Gavroche." Enjolras looked a little uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving from the Firstie, "I'll manage."
Shrugging, Gavroche went back to his game, revealing his cards and causing Courfeyrac to groan loudly as he threw down his cards in annoyance. It happened to be that moment that Gavroche noticed the two Slytherins, and got up to go and sit next to them, shuffling his pack of cards as he did so.
"A'ight?" He threw himself into the unoccupied armchair opposite them. "Thanks for coming."
"Well so far there ain't much to be here for." Éponine replied, her tone still cold, but it was softer than before.
Éponine and Gavroche both had cockney accents, having grown up in that part of London, but over the years Éponine had managed to develop a Standard English vocabulary and accent that masked it, which she used almost everywhere, as she said it made people take her seriously. However, whenever she was around her brother, or really angry or upset, it slipped, and a few of the abbreviated phrases slipped out before she could stop them.
"Aw, you don't mean that," Gavroche grinned at her, and Grantaire had to blink twice to register the small smile on Éponine's face.
"Shu' up, shortie."
Gavroche rolled his eyes and offered Éponine the deck of cards.
"Wanna play?"
"I'm good thanks." Éponine looked at the cards with disdain in her eye, "I've seen enough cards for a lifetime."
Just as she said that, a cry could be heard, and Éponine instantly stiffened.
"Hey, Éponine - you came!"
It was Courfeyrac, moving towards Éponine with his arms outstretched, as if going in for a hug. Whilst Grantaire and Gavroche had never spoken, they both knew what was coming next, and exchanged a dark look, knowing that this boy was done for.
Before Courfeyrac could squeeze into the space between Éponine and Grantaire on the sofa, he made the mistake of extending his hand; the suckers always did.
Éponine's arm shot out and curled her fingers around his wrist, and, before he could blink, had it pulled up behind his back, twisted so that he had to spin around simply out of reflex. Because of this, Éponine then had the power to stand up and rest her chin on his shoulder from behind, a smirk brushed onto her lips.
"Sorry, what was that?" She asked innocently, "I didn't quite hear you."
Scowling, Courfeyrac wrenched his arm out of Éponine's slacked grip, and sloped back off to the corner to sit next to Jehan, who looked positively alarmed at this display of aggression.
Still smirking, Éponine threw herself back down on the sofa, snatching Grantaire's bottle of firewhiskey and taking a swig, ignoring the disapproving looks her boys shot her.
When she finally picked up on them, she rolled her eyes.
"Jees, it's only his pride that's hurt. Not like he didn't need it or nothin'."
"That's definitely a sickle for the inappropriate jar, Thénardier." Grantaire said, reaching into his pocket for the small piggybank that they used to monitor the group's inappropriateness for the term, and Éponine reluctantly threw in a silver coin. At the end of the term, they'd count up all the money they had and splashed out on a load of Firewhiskey and muggle sweets. The last night of term was always an interesting one.
"Whatever." She took another swig of Firewhiskey, "This 'meeting' sucks anyway."
"Oi!" Gavroche looked slightly offended, "I think it's good."
"Well, what are you supposed to be doing?"
Gavroche opened his mouth to protest, but then paused and closed it again, looking around the room.
It appeared that the only person doing something productive was Jehan, who was colouring in a poster with his wand, which Courfeyrac was lazily duplicating, not even attempting to stay in the lines as carefully as Jehan was. Then there was obviously Enjolras, who was writing things down that were being called out to him, sometimes shooting back an angry retort at the ones that were more humorous than focused on Unity.
"Look," Enjolras managed to yell over the rabble, "I'm sorry we're not in the usual room, but I couldn't help the fact it was already being used. Please, just be mature about this and act appropriately. Everything will be back to normal on Wednesday!"
However, just as Enjolras asked everyone to be mature, Courfeyrac decided to charm a few posters into paper planes, which then started swooping around the room and poking people with the points.
Despite being poking rather vigorously in the side of the head by a paper plane, Éponine's eyes were fixed on a point on the far side of the room; where Marius Pontmercy was sat, talking quietly to another Hufflepuff girl, who Éponine instantly disliked. Grantaire noticed her line of sight and let out a small groan, only enough to attract her attention, since the rest of the room was in chaos over the paper planes.
Her eyes snapped to meet Grantaire's, sighing deeply when she saw what they were conveying.
"I thought you were over him?" Grantaire muttered, nudging her arm with his elbow, which she returned instantly, only a more direct and persistent jab; one that clearly said drop the topic.
"I only hope to Merlin's sweet arse that you are. Those months were seriously tedious."
Finally, after many jabs to the side, he dropping the topic.
At the start of Fourth year, Éponine had had a massive crush on this Hufflepuff boy, and the crush hadn't left her until the middle of fifth year, when she stopped doodling "Mrs Marius Pontmercy" on the inner cover of her notebooks. Some thought Éponine would never stoop so low; Grantaire, unfortunately, knew better.
Girls were really scary sometimes, Grantaire thought.