Eleanor Gamp (embalmer) wrote in disorderic, @ 2017-12-29 19:57:00 |
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Entry tags: | eleanor gamp, merrick gamp |
WHO: Merrick Gamp & Eleanor Mun
WHAT: Not asking one another to Hogsmeade.
WHEN: 5th year 1991 (I think?)
WHERE: Hogwarts
WARNINGS: Nah
Merrick was not a shy man, he lacked much of the shame of his peers that was actually both instructive and useful when navigating adolescence. The sort of feeling that prevented one from humiliating themselves, was not found in Merrick. It was also why he never hid the fact that he was a besotted fool when it came to the strange little goth girl so many people avoided. “You’re not in Hogsmeade,” Merrick announced himself, smiling charmingly as he slid into the seat directly across from Eleanor. Eleanor had been lost in thought; she startled when he spoke to her, having not expected anyone to have stayed behind, let alone someone who'd willingly associate with her. She gave Merrick a small smile when she saw that it was him. “Why would I want to be? Bunch of idiots spending money they don't have on things they don't need,” Eleanor said. She left out the part about how she'd had no-one to go with. “Why didn't you go? Your friends went,” she asked. Merrick resisted the urge to prop up his chin and sigh. Eleanor talking capitalism — he could sit there for hours. “Some of them,” it was true Merrick made friends easily, from all houses and backgrounds, but few deep friendships. It was difficult to when your first instinct was to weigh someone’s uses and file that data away for future. None he’d choose over one of his oldest friends, in any case. None he’d choose over Eleanor. “Not all,” he smiled at her pointedly and leaned his forearms onto the table. “I only really go to take notes anyway. It’s a brilliant business model, taking advantage of students cooped up and desperate.” He paused. “The candy isn’t bad.” Eleanor remained oblivious as always; she leaned in a little closer, chin resting on her palm as she listened to her friend speak. “We could make a fortune if we set up a shop carrying smugglable alcohol and wank mags a couple of times a year,” she mused. “but how crass.” Merrick blinked, any stunned expression replaced by a wide, pleased smile. “Crass, but profitable.” He chuckled, teasing. “Don’t pretend like you care about ‘crass’.” “I can judge them while still taking their money.” Eleanor said. “though then I have to live with the idea that I may have indirectly helped people like Crabbe or Goyle get off.” Merrick laughed at that. “Is that what you’re doing then? Making plans instead of enjoying the weather?” “I'm studying, actually,” Eleanor admitted. She lifted the book she'd been reading to show the title, ‘EMBALMING FOR THE INTERMEDIATE FUNERAL WIZARD’ to Merrick. “Father says I can work with him over the holidays, but I need to memorise this first. How about you? Do you have plans over the break?” “Some,” he shrugged, attention on the book in Eleanor’s hands. “We’ll be trotted out as the weird cousins from the Alleys to all the Sacred 28 parties, Malcolm will seethe and I’ll enjoy myself because my cousins are terrible hands at cards — so you’ve decided then,” he nodded towards the book. “You’ll take over the business?” “That sounds riveting. You'll clean them all out, you shark,” she said, though her smirk made it clear that she considered that a compliment. She set the book down and folded her hands atop it. “Why wouldn't I? It's an incredibly profitable business, and mine if I choose. Seems like a no-brainer to me.” she said decisively. “It's not as though people will ever stop dying.” She shrugged. “No,” Merrick looked thoughtful. He’d always admired Eleanor’s father and the kind of loyalty he inspired. Merrick’s own Father seemed a bit dismissive, focused on what the living could buy. It was short sighted. Everyone died. “You’ll do it yourself? What about your sisters?” Eleanor shrugged again. “Too precious to get their hands dirty. It's their loss—more money for me.” Merrick smiled at that, strangely hesitant and clearly toying with words that wouldn’t come out. “You and I make a good team,” he said eventually, and laced his fingers together like it was the start of a business proposal. 15 and precocious. “We do,” Eleanor said, not thinking much of it. She pressed a finger to her lips as though contemplating something before adding, “Have you ever held a human heart in your hand?” Merrick sighed again, this time exasperated and stupidly fond. “I haven’t,” he said and reached forward to take her hand, thumb brushing gently against the curve of her thumb. Maybe asking if the girl in front of him would allow him to go into business with her was too much, too intimate for 15. He could start smaller. “But that sounds brilliant.” You already hold mine, he almost added, stupid but not quite that stupid. “Eleanor,” he smiled instead, “will you not go to Hogsmeade with me?” Eleanor blinked at him, having been caught off-guard by the question. Then, she chuckled. “Of course, Merrick. There's no-one I'd rather not go to Hogsmeade with,” she smiled, blushing ever-so-faintly. “Would you like a tour of the business over hols? I'll make sure you have some stories to bring back with you.” The elation was like a punch to the gut. Merrick Gamp always got what he wanted, but he never felt he was deserving of this. He dared shift his fingers forward, lacing them with hers. “I can’t think of anything better in my entire existence, yes,” he said emphatically, “I’d love to. I want to know everything.” There was a short pause. “To be clear, I was asking you out.” She gave his hands a squeeze in return, but even so, her eyes widened with surprise. “Me?” Eleanor asked, unsure if she’d heard correctly. Or was he kidding? Merrick always had had a delightful sense of humour. Nobody asked Eleanor Mun out—cold, creepy, unlikeable Eleanor Mun. Merrick Gamp, however, was not a nobody. “Well, if you’re asking, I’d like that. I’d like that very much,” Eleanor managed finally, still not entirely certain he wouldn’t just shout, ‘I was kidding!’ after all of that, leaving her feeling foolish. Merrick beamed. “Of course you,” he laughed like the question was a great joke. “Does anyone else actually exist? I honestly couldn’t tell you. It’s all been a bit of a haze since that first time we met, when you asked me if I still had an appendix.” “It's a very important thing to know about someone!” Eleanor said, still a bit baffled that he'd apparently had these feelings for some time. She'd never realised. “I'd never thought that someone as charming as you would have any interest in me other than as your morbid friend,” she admitted. Merrick’s smile slipped a little, though he wouldn’t let her see how much the scorn of others bothered him. They didn’t know or understand her, didn’t want to, and therefore didn’t deserve to. “Charming? Don’t tell me I fooled you too. I’m just an idiot with a head for numbers. I never thought you’d see me as anything else.” He winked at her. “I think a head for numbers is very charming,” Eleanor said. “Charisma can only get you so far, but business sense.” She fake-swooned. Merrick smirked. “Oh, well in that case: derivatives. Capital gains. Asset stripping.” Eleanor fanned herself. “Now you’re speaking my language.” The boy laughed softly, utterly besotted. There was no one like Eleanor Mun and apparently, she thought he wasn’t half bad himself. Squeezing her hand again, mood effusive, Merrick stood suddenly, head inclined towards the sun streaming in through the large windows. “Come on, let’s at least enjoy the sunshine while we don’t go to Hogsmeade. I want to hear about how heavy human hearts are.” |