She knows the Heimlich she won't choke, not Daphne (farsick) wrote in caged, @ 2013-09-27 02:13:00
Who: Daphne Greengrass and Regina Avery. What: Working on their diorama, and team spirit. Where: Slytherin Common Room. When: Tuesday 24 September. Evening. (BACKDATED) Status: Complete.
Some days lasted longer than others. This, the evening in which Regina was impassively settling miniature figurines into their places within the expanse of a scene contained by a wooden box and the confines of the combined imaginations of two Slytherin girls - one of which had been declared half a Hufflepuff as of earlier that day. As of yet, the newly appointed Prefect was the only one in her corner of the Common Room, although she’d exchanged glances with Max across the way a few minutes before, then returned to delicately adjusting the balance of said figurines.
It was fairly quiet in the dungeons despite the hour, and in between fiddling with the diorama and waiting for the quiet redhead dormmate whom she considered her best friend just a bed away, Regina was reaching up to touch, with two delicate and curious fingertips, the Prefect pin having taken up residence on her lapel. Though she was privately uncertain as to what she felt about the appointment, nothing showed through on her face except acceptance and a carefully cultivated strain of pride.
Daphne eyed Regina, and the Prefect’s badge, carefully as she entered the Commons, as if she thought staring directly at it might make it and its wearer disappear in a puff of smoke. While the appointment of another Prefect for their House - or, she supposed, for Hufflepuff House, but how much did that matter when the one appointed was a Slytherin? - was surely a point in their favor, the whole thing, right down to the unexpected announcement of it, still niggled at Daphne a little. Was this going to become a trend?
At any rate, now was no time to dwell on hypotheticals. Not when there was a more pressing one at hand. Namely, what if Longbottom made good on his stupid posturing in Muggle Studies, and truly managed to sabotage the group project? This was something Daphne was much less willing to allow to come to pass.
“Evening,” she greeted quietly, stopping at the end of a sofa to drop her bag there in an unceremonious heap. The books inside it clunked loudly together, and Daphne settled down beside it to sort her spoils from the library. With a look of mild distaste, she settled her gaze on the back end of the diorama. “Is that what I think it is?”
“There’s no accounting for taste,” came Regina’s dry voice, eyeing said portion of their assignment, not exactly having been impressed with the contributions of a certain pair of their group members. While Ernie had been, as always, dependable to do his work and to do it well, the newest Prefect in the school was quite sure that Abbott and Longbottom had not only deliberately set out to sabotage the project with their precious ideals, but to annoy her whenever possible. She had taken great and savage delight in mentioning her new office in front of the pair of them, but that still left her with the problem of their existence, as head of the group.
“If I had my way...” came her voice, an undisguised undertone of disgust in the unfinished threat that gave more of the impression of exasperation than actual desire to do harm even as she withdrew her hands from the project to give it a onceover with pursed lips. Then, as if switching gears, she commented wryly, “I’m sure this is hardly all they have planned. We should duplicate it when we’re finished and keep the extra in the dormitory, should anything go wrong.”
Daphne only smirked at Regina’s aimless frustration, commiserating somewhat but aware that her own annoyance with this whole thing likely paled in comparison to her dormmate’s. At least Daphne didn’t have to deal with the ramifications directly; she was neither group leader nor newly minted Prefect. Merlin, she didn’t want any of that, and Tracey’s observations the other day on that front were still a little troubling.
“I think that’s a wise plan,” Daphne agreed lightly, abandoning her bag to join Regina properly in the corner. At least the room was fairly empty, though she’d waved to Max as she came in, and they could work in relative peace. “I half expect Longbottom to just blatantly blow the thing up in the middle of the classroom if it doesn’t meet his noble utopian standards.”
She stood above the diorama and observed the damage. It wasn’t the worst it could be, not by a long shot, but it was clear it would not pass an inspection by Professor Carrow. Daphne stooped to sit and said in a wry undertone, “Who says we can’t have a bit of fun with it, though, hm?”
All in all, the responsibility that had been heaped upon the young Avery’s shoulders in the last few days was nothing but a trial: unlike several of her housemates, Regina had no secret ambition to lead anyone to glory and triumph, and she certainly hadn’t asked for the obligation to care whether or not Longbottom and Abbott succeeded in showcasing their misguided ideals in the first group Muggle Studies project. She could only hope that future projects would involve a different leader - she’d had quite enough of the taste of authority. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the thought that her burdens were only just beginning.
As Daphne settled in next to her and lowered her voice, the brunette shifted her gaze in her direction, eyes glittering with curiosity. With a smirk that indicated Regina’s most definitive interest in this new development, she asked lightly in response, “What did you have in mind?”
“I thought…” Daphne grew a little quiet, as if she were considering the prudence of including something blatantly insulting in their revision. On the one hand, it would be therapeutic for her personally. On the other, Longbottom wouldn’t care a bit. If nothing else, it would be self-indulgent and possibly stand a chance at entertaining a professor who was likely already more than exasperated of Longbottom’s antics.
Reservations flouted, then. “I thought it might be considerate of us to pay a bit of an homage to our hardworking group mates. The hardest working, anyhow. Given that Longbottom was so eager to be of service to the group, perhaps we ought to include his likeness somewhere appropriate.”
The smirk gracing her features only widened, even as she waited out Daphne’s hesitation patiently - when the entirety of her fellow Slytherin’s gameplan became clear, Regina’s expression became downright wicked. “Oh, certainly,” came her response, already smug and satisfied at the very thought of even such a small poetic justice. Primly, she went on as if entirely serious about honoring their loudest if not their most productive group member, “He certainly does deserve recognition for the part he’s played in our little project, now doesn’t he?”
Tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the box that contained said project, she mused as she looked over every inch of the project, already considering possibilities, “What would best suit him, though? Something menial.”
“House elf, probably. There’s little more menial than that.”
Daphne said it quickly and without a moment’s consideration, because it was the same thing she had jokingly suggested to Tracey the day the project was assigned. That had been before the publication of that trashy Phoenix Press column, which had soured Daphne’s mood enough that she was willing to direct her annoyance over it at someone who may not even have been involved. She wondered if that was the sort of “point” Longbottom had been sniping about last Friday.
Critically, she surveyed the diorama as it was. “It would be a lot more accurate than all these melty-faced Wizards someone’s put gathering round that shop front.” She pointed out a miniature wand shop, that looked a bit like a grander scale Ollivander’s, in front of which was puttering a collection of tiny Witches and Wizards with faces that looked like melted wax. She suspected those would have to be fixed. “Unless someone was aiming to create a horror story style Wiztopia.”
“I suspect that’s exactly what they were attempting to do,” came her voice, lofty but with a hint of bitterness in it - whether it was about her leadership or about the deliberate sabotaging of the group’s efforts, who could say and who could blame her, after all? “Or at least what counts as horrific for the rest of us,” and here her tone almost invited the roll of her eyes that accompanied it. “Sometimes I wonder if they’re truly delusional and we should be seeking help for them.”
Without another word, Regina pulled out her wand and began pointing it at figurines in turn, attempting to use magic to restore said figurines to their normal status. Then, almost absently as if she were enjoying the mulling over such an issue, she asked, “A house elf doing what? What task is worthy of Longbottom’s image?”
Daphne reached back to retrieve her wand from her bag and leaned toward the diorama, pointing her wand at each figure in turn and beginning to repair the distorted faces. If this was the worst the dissenters of the group had in mind, she supposed she and Regina ought to count themselves fortunate. Less of a mess to clean up. Still, that seemed too easy. Perhaps they should have commissioned Ernie for this, as well - he surely knew Hannah and Longbottom’s minds better than Daphne could ever hope to.
It was unlikely that Regina would take kindly to the notion, though. And, frankly, Daphne didn’t trust anyone else to get this done correctly.
“Hmm,” she muttered, scratching her nose as her wand flicked to a fourth miniature Witch. “I’m not sure. He’s fond of Herbology, isn’t he? Do you suppose House Elves do much gardening? Plenty of fertiliser…”
Frankly, there had been much worse possibilities floating in Regina’s head when she was first made aware that she was at the head of the group. The depths to which Longbottom was willing to sink - and Abbott too, though she was more of a follower, at least in Regina’s opinion - were unknown as of yet, but given the desperate situation that Potter’s obedient subjects were in, there was no telling what she might have had to suffer. Or, she thought wryly, may still have yet to suffer.
“Oh, yes,” she said adoringly, a smile too sweet to be anything but at someone else’s expense spreading across her face. “A manure pile for Longbottom will make him right at home, I’m sure.” Reaching for one of the small elf-shaped figurines, she lifted it to eye level for both herself and her dormmate, and set about the work of making it resemble a bumbling Gryffindor.
Daphne smirked quietly, giving the figurine in Regina’s hand a quick look before returning her attention to her own task. She trusted Regina would manage a decent likeness. Really, Daphne only felt a little badly. It was but a tiny jab, in the end, and if Longbottom even noticed, she thought it likely he’d take it as a compliment. The better thing to do, really, would have been to ignore his involvement entirely rather than acknowledge it even in jest. Still. She did find it a bit entertaining to watch the thumb-sized House Elf slowly take on a few familiar, human qualities. Horror story style Wiztopia, indeed.
The Witches and Wizards by the wand shop didn’t take much longer to repair, and Daphne turned her attention to bolstering a lopsided set of Quidditch hoops. The pitch had been her contribution, when they’d all worked together as a group a few days prior, though she had been distracted that day and now saw where her work had been less than perfect.
Reaching in to guide an errant Bludger back into pitch territory, Daphne looked back over to Regina and said, “What do you suppose the other groups’ projects will look like?”
Taking a savage pleasure in creating the little figurine, Regina had a triumphant smile by the time the small house elf had begun to resemble Neville - idly, she tweaked this feature and that on the figurine, such that it made a face at her for the intense scrutiny. As she was making the ears larger but more rounded, thinking annoyedly of the last Muggle Studies class where she’d struggled to keep herself from hexing Longbottom from head to toe. He’d get his, she was quite sure of it - if she had a choice, she’d have a hand in it.
“Inferior,” came her absent answer, still focused on making the ugly resemblance clear but not definitive. “Theodore’s group is working with a library and a garden, from what I’ve heard. I imagine others are straight from the book.” She glanced up. “I’m not particularly fussed, so long as we pass.”
Unable to stop herself, Daphne gave a short laugh.She wasn’t sure if she agreed with Regina wholly. Some of the other groups boasted members with distinct artistic talents. Although she supposed that the success of those projects, regardless of style, would depend largely on the nature of the content. A diorama containing realistically rendered Wizards and Muggles singing hand in hand round a campfire? Probably not going to pass, regardless of the talent behind it.
Still, she was confident that theirs would fall near the top of the pile when all was said and done.
“Same,” Daphne replied lightly, affixing a majestic clay eagle owl to the top of a lamp post. It preened itself before fluffing its feathers and settling. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that now. This looks worlds better already. Honestly, I’m a little surprised it wasn’t worse off.”
Or worried, but she assumed Regina might feel similarly.
With a small frown on her face, the brunette finally settled the small figurine onto the table in front of them, studying it as she replied uncertainly, “It’s been far too easy. I expect they’re saving their efforts for closer to when the project will be turned in.” Flicking her wand once more, in a motion that was far more sophisticated than the action it incurred, she went to great pains to create a manure pile in the appropriate space in the diorama, then reached for the small figurine and unceremoniously dropped him in. “Which is why the duplicate, when we’re finished.”
As the small figurine climbed happily out of the fertilizer, covered in brown gunk and smiling ear to ear in a fairly accurate imitation of Neville Longbottom’s happier moments - well, at least as much as a tiny house elf charmed to look like him could - Regina turned to Daphne with a more restrained smile of her own and added confidently, “We’ll be just fine.”