(Coeus Black - PoV)
"Uuugh..."
I wake up exceptionally comfortable.
Perfect temperature. Nice bed. Plenty of pillows. Blankets. Everything is soft and snuggly.
There is just ooonnnnneee problem.
My head is killing me!
*Wiggle**Wiggle*
Ok, two problems.
My arms are trapped.
"Uugg-"
My second groan stutters off as someone pats me on the head unexpectedly.
Blinking my eyes open, I find Iris staring at me in sympathy and concern.
She gives me a soft smile, running her hand through my hair carefully.
It's...nice. And helps a little.
So, I suppose if Iris is on this side, then P-
*Whap!*
!*!*!*!*!*!*!**!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!*!
Owww.
Owwwwwww.
I literally see stars. Stars and...spinning and...ow.
I don't even manage to swear.
It...takes me a moment. To put myself together and refocus.
To reopen my eyes.
Iris is half covering me now, glaring at Phoebe.
And Phoebe...
Phoebe is sitting on her knees, her face an expressionless mask as she watches me quietly.
Reflexively reaching for our bond, I cringe when she keeps it dialed down.
That...that hurts way worse than her hitting me in the head.
"This goes for both of you," she starts, before looking at Iris.
"Actually, it goes for you more. Don't think I didn't notice what you said to the bitch last night."
Iris freezes but Phoebe returns her attention to me.
"And I know last night was...difficult. But it doesn't change the fact."
Her eyes narrow as she glares at me.
"You hurt yourself."
"Phoebe..." Iris objects. "I...I saw how things were...with you..."
"Exactly!" she exclaims. "Coeus,"
I can't respond before she leans forward, reaching past Iris and poking me in the chest. Hard.
"Hurt himself. Completely unnecessarily. What did I do Iris?"
She doesn't answer.
Leaning forward again, Phoebe forces Iris to look at her.
"Iris. What did I do?"
"You hurt someone..."
"I hurt someone else. An enemy. Someone who deserved it. But I admit, I don't even really care about that."
Her forehead touches Iris's.
"Anyone is better than us," she whispers.
She draws back slowly and looks at us.
...
Her face remains impassive but her hands fidget.
Phoebe...
"Brother...What happened last night was my fault." Pulling my arm free, she grasps my hand tightly. "I made a mistake. But after we separated..."
She shakes her head.
"Don't hurt yourself. Don't let yourself get hurt. And do not sacrifice yourself!"
"Either of you!" She demands of Iris. "You!" she pokes Iris in the chest this time, "Try to pull that nonsense constantly, and I am not having it."
Phoebe leans forward once more getting right up in her face.
"You are a Black now! None of that! You should know better!"
Iris leans back.
"I...umm...But I'm stil-"
"Don't care!"
"Ok..."
"Iris."
"..."
"Iris, what if Coeus and I died? When we didn't have to. And left you alone?"
She freezes in place, and Phoebe takes her hand,
"I know you don't really believe it, but try. You're not worthless."
Worthl...?
...
Pushing down the surge of anger, I focus my attention on what matters.
"Iris?"
She blinks.
"Iris?"
She turns towards me.
"Stay with us. Promise?"
...
She nods. Slowly and jerkily, but she nods.
I shake my head.
"Say it, Iris. I've got you."
"And I've got you," Phoebe confirms.
"We won't just back you against the world, but will stay with you. You'll do the same for us, right?"
...
"O...Ok." she finally agrees, staring at me intently. "I...promise."
"Good," Phoebe announces. "There is only one thing left then."
We look at her questioningly.
She nods slowly before tackling Iris and dragging her down onto me.
*Oof**Oof*
"Nnnnn"
Wrapping her arms around us both she squeezes as tight as she can, releasing her hold on our bond at the same time.
I gasp from the flood of emotions. The relief, fear, and concern. And anger. But far, far less anger than she pretended.
Sorry, Brother. You make mistakes but Iris...So many bad ends. So many. And she just doesn't listen!
Bad ends...
It's my turn to clench tightly. Both of them.
Iris, knowing how easy it is for her to...
And Phoebe.
Phoebe for watching it. Over. And over. And over.
...
I am glad that I don't have her Sight. I couldn't...I couldn't do it. I will stick with mine.
Still.
Taking a deep breath, I begin to relax.
This? This is nice. Phoebe's emotions may not be the best right now, but I will happily be her anchor. And everyone all piled together?
Mmm. Comfortable.
I think we may go back t-
*Grrrrr*
Any ideas for sleep are interrupted when someone's stomach growls more threateningly than most wild animals.
The girls lift their heads, staring at me with amused expressions.
Why are they looking at me?
(Samuel King, Prefect - PoV)
William Fawley new head of International Magical Cooperation
Most days such an announcement would have a good shot at the front page. Not a chance of that today. Any space not taken up by Iris is dedicated to Fawley's predecessor.
Black, Arcturus that is, looks to be dragging the trial out, making a spectacle of it. Sending Crouch to the dementors isn't enough, he wants the man humiliated and whatever is left of his reputation ruined first.
No surprise there. The only question is how many secrets will be spilled, how many long-lost skeletons will be unburied in the process.
Even this late in the morning I keep one eye on the entrance as I flip through the paper.
The Great Hall is half empty, as befitting the first morning of term. With no set schedule or reason to get up at any specific time, everyone tends to come and go at random, if they come in at all.
Slytherin is, of course, an exception to the latter bit.
Each House handles schedule handouts their own way. In our case, it's up to me (or another Prefect) to hand them out in the Great Hall on the first day.
If a student doesn't show up? Well, we still deliver it to them, of course.
Along with extras "at our discretion."
Itching powder, hexes, a trip down the stairs, ext.
So, everyone with any intelligence makes sure to at least stop by to pick up the schedule.
There are exceptions, occasionally, for the unavoidable. Last year Villers got bit by something shortly before getting on the train and spent the first two days in the hospital wing. That's understandable.
Westerfield ending up in Pomfrey's care after he got drunk off a bottle of stolen Firewhiskey and then drank a potion he really shouldn't have on a dare is not.
Idiot.
First-years are generally escorted to the hall on the first day. Both to get their schedule and to make sure they know their way.
Or at least have the potential to know their way. After having been escorted from the hall to the dorms and now back they are on their own.
It's the same for classes. Each day a Prefect will show the firsties where tomorrow's classes are until they have all been covered (for the first-year classes, at least).
Hufflepuff has a similar system. Ravenclaw has...something. It works for them, apparently. Gryffindors wander around the castle at random until they get in trouble.
I would blame it on McGonagall failing at her job, but while it gets better it certainly doesn't stop after first year. I think it's just a Gryff thing.
Movement at the entrance draws my attention.
Ah, finally. I was starting to wonder if those three were coming.
Raising a hand, I catch their attention and wave them over.
The noise level in the hall spikes as more people notice them.
Interesting. You know, I am actually not certain if it is the Girl-Who-Lived, the Girl-Who-Broke-The-Hat, or the Psycho-Who-Stole-The-Trolley that is causing the most commotion.
Ok, an exaggeration, perhaps, but not as much as one would expect.
"Glad you made it," I address the group. "I figured you wouldn't have a problem finding your way so we didn't bother you earlier."
As I said, generally escorted. No one wanted to poke at something willing to threaten the Professor in his own dungeon, so we elected to leave their room well enough alone.
Still, if there has to be a dorm we can't enter due to killer somethings, at least it has a Goddess-level Seeress that makes it so we don't actually need-
Oh, Merlin damn it...
Speaking of, the bloody Trolley is still following along after them.
I spare a glance at the High Table, but none of the few teachers there appear to have noticed.
...Whatever. It probably won't eat anyone in public.
"Your schedules," I pass them the appropriate papers. "The notice board in the common room has most of the important announcements, of course. Will you lot be going with the other first years to be shown the classrooms?"
Iris looks towards the other two. Coeus shrugs. Phoebe tilts her head for a moment.
"Sometimes."
Ah. Great. The worst possible answer.
I nod anyway.
"Right. Well, the schedules for that will be posted on the notice board. They should be there by the time you wake up in the mornings for the rest of the week, but today we are...still working on it. Today is a bit of a mess."
"It really is," Phoebe agrees.
"I dunno," Coeus argues. "This morning was awful but I've got a good feeling about the rest of the day!"
The three of us stare at him, along with everyone else nearby.
"What?"
"You're leaking," Flint grumbles, walking past as he exits the hall.
"Leaking?"
More than a few laughs and giggles erupt when Coeus looks down at his pants.
Phoebe sighs.
"Bleeding," Iris clarifies, wavering in place. "Your head. It's bleeding again."
Frowning, he touches his head and examines his fingers before swearing colorfully.
"Bloody door...I need to learn Necromancy so I can bring it back and kill it again."
What?
"Wait...does Reparo count as Necromancy then?"
That...is...wow.
"You should ask McGonagall," Hilda speaks up before I can.
Sparing a look for my fellow prefect, I shake my head.
She does not care for our Deputy Headmistress. Hates may very well be an appropriate term. She should not be dragging this lot into her feud, however.
"If you have to ask someone, how about Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing instead? While getting your head looked at, maybe?" I suggest.
Coeus waves me off.
"Meh. Maybe after breakfast. I'm starving," he says, licking the blood off his fingers as he makes his way down the table.
Does he even realize what he is doing?
The ones who laughed earlier are far more hesitant once he starts semi-drinking his own blood.
Phoebe reaches over and swipes her fingers across his head before licking them as well.
She definitely knows what she is doing.
At least Iris doesn't join in. I can barely imagine the shitstorm from the Girl-Who-Lived pulling that.
The three settle down, taking seats near Greengrass, who is burying her head in her arms.
"Why...Why did I wait up for you?" she asks.
"Stockholm Syndrome?" Phoebe replies.
"What?" Daphne asks, sitting up.
Phoebe shrugs, and Coeus interjects before any elaboration can be made.
"Nevermind that. You were wrong!"
Greengrass blinks at him.
"What?"
"I am not hard-headed. See?"
He points at his still lightly bleeding head.
Phoebe wipes away the blood with her fingers again.
"One little door did this. I got it back immediately of course, with magic, but my point stands! I barely even dented it with my head."
He nods as Phoebe dips her fingers in her cup.
Seriously?
The look Greengrass is giving them suggests this isn't normal even for them, at least.
She shakes her head after Phoebe takes a long drink from the cup.
"-" whatever she was going to say is interrupted when Phoebe puts a finger to her lips.
"Shush. Stay," she orders before turning and poking Coeus, who starts digging around in his robes.
Daphne huffs and...ah. I'm surprised it took this long. A rather serious-faced Dora is on her way from the Puffs.
How will the twins handle an understandably upset/worried big sister?
Greengrass grumbles and sits staring at her book while Phoebe jots something down on a piece of parchment.
Coeus, meanwhile, is busy loading up plates for the three of them. All three of them, including Iris, despite her objections.
Dora puts on her usual face...well, persona (with Dora the distinction is important) before she reaches the table.
A long arm reaches over Coeus's shoulder towards his plate -
"OUCH! FUCK!"
Said arm jerks back rapidly, nearly smacking Iris in the face in the process after being bitten.
"Damnit Coeus!" Dora swears, examining her arm.
"Mine."
"You are such a shit," she lightly cuffs him upside the head, her eyes widening as it starts bleeding again.
"Oy!" he bats at her
"Shit...Shit, I'm..." she trails off as Phoebe wipes at the blood with a piece of bacon before eating it.
"What the fuck..."
Iris shrugs and Phoebe ignores her.
"You started it," Coeus mutters grumpily. "What do you want? Did the Hufflepuffs run out of bacon? Well, you can't have ours!"
"Trolley," he yells, grabbing the platter off the table.
Dora rapidly steps to the side as the thing shoves up closer to the table and Coeus forces the entire platter into it.
"Hah!" he turns back to her. "Try and steal it now," he challenges smugly.
"But...the bacon..." Quentin, a second-year who arrived for breakfast late complains quietly before his neighbor elbows him.
Dora pinches her nose.
"Coeus...I didn't come here to steal food..."
"Sure you didn't. You're just saying that because I foiled you."
He nods as the older girl's eye twitches.
Paper long since discarded, I carefully pick up my cup and take a slow sip of juice, never taking my eyes off the amusing scene unfolding in front of us.
Dora is usually the one pulling this shit on everyone else, it is great seeing the tables turn on her.
She takes a deep breath and shakes her head before sitting down at the table while Coeus frowns and looks at Phoebe.
"I came over, little brother, because I think, it's time for your first lesson," Dora says, with that beautiful smile that says 'I'm going to stab you and not feel the least bit guilty about it'.
I still don't understand how she ended up in Hufflepuff.
"Sorry, all booked up," Coeus replies. "Have to go visit the healer after this. For my head, you know?"
He points at his head, which isn't bleeding for once, and frowns.
*Whap*
Slapping himself upside the head, it starts trickling blood once more.
"See?"
Dora nods.
"That's fine. Pomfrey will get you nice and fixed up, then I will have all day to take you apart again!" she says with a cheery smile on her face.
I slowly shake my head.
How, exactly, does she not deserve to be called a Black?
"Booooriiiinggg," Phoebe interrupts.
"Boring?" Dora asks, blinking, her smile fading as she is thrown off her game.
Phoebe nods.
"You were just going to pick out some random classroom or something, right? Any space big enough and then toss spells? Maybe throw in some dummies? We have all year for that. How about something more interesting while we have the chance?"
Violet eyes narrow.
"What, exactly, do you have in mind, then?"
"Hagrid has some new pets."
Oh shit.
The indrawn breaths around the table are loud enough to be audible. Dora's eyes widen and I can see her minor flinch despite her best efforts.
She regains her composure quickly, feigning nonchalance as she leans back in her seat, crossing her arms.
"Oh, really now? And you think you two are good enough for that kind of live-fire exercise already?" She snorts. "What did he get his hands on this time anyway?"
"Something in-ter-esting. That will be good training for everyone, I think." She nods. "And yes, we should be able to handle it fine."
Dora's eyes glance around the table as she considers but there really isn't any point. She's trapped.
Phoebe will just push harder if she refuses, with it hurting her reputation each time. And in the end, she can't actually force the twins to do anything.
"Alright then," Dora nods, "I'm interested. But don't even try blaming me when you get something bitten off or set on fire."
Phoebe giggles.
"I think you are the one that has to worry about such things, Dora. How's your arm?"
"Good enough to shove it up your ass, you little shit," she threatens, flipping her off.
Phoebe frowns.
"You have very strange hobbies."
Dora blanches.
"Th-"
Phoebe slaps Coeus's hand as he reaches for the syrup.
"Enough, brother. Let's get going."
"But I'm still eating..." he waves at his plate.
Grabbing whatever is left on the plate, Phoebe shoves all of it in her mouth before looking him in the eye.
...
"Fiiiine..."
Rising up from their seats alongside Dora, they look back at Iris, who is looking around confused.
"Umm," she starts.
"Just leave the plate," Dora tells her. "The elves take care of them."
"Oh. Ok."
Ah. I should have expected that.
Iris joins them and the group leaves, ignoring the whispers (and not-so-whispers) following in their wake.
Slytherin table is no exception to the rumor-mongering.
*Whisper whisper threats whisper whisper*
*Whisper whisper blood whisper whisper*
"What about the bacon? Is it coming back?"
Of course, some people have different priorities than others.
Draining my cup at last, I set it on the table.
That was certainly interesting. I wonder if I can arrange the time to swing by Hagrid's? As long as I keep my distance...
(Daphne Greengrass - PoV)
"Wow. So are they always like that?" Tracey asks.
"That was a lot more normal for them, yes," I admit, re-reading the parchment Phoebe passed me once more.
Join us at Hagrid's for "training." You won't regret it.
Damn it, Phoebe. Do you have to...Ugh.
Fine.
"Hey, Tracey. You are open for the rest of the day, right?"
She tilts her head.
"Yeah, I guess so."
"Good. We can go check something out in a little bit. I have been promised it is quite interesting."
