Mad World Mods (madworldmods) wrote in madworldrp, @ 2007-10-19 20:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | florence anweller, meghan mccormack |
Flora & Meg
LJ-SEC: (ORIGINALLY POSTED BY highland_keeper)
Who: Flora and Meg
When: Friday night, pre-dinner
What: Conversation
Where: Their dorm
After her last class, Meghan had collapsed on her bed, napping for a good hour and a half still in her school clothes. She had changed out of her clothes to lay in her Quidditch pajamas on top of the blankets now, a bag of Bertie Botts on her stomach. The hangings were open, and she watched Flora reading in the bed next to her, trying to make out the gilded lettering on the spine of the book. Giving it up for lack of interest (it didn't appear to be a trashy romance novel, and that was the only acceptable Friday reading), Meg went back to her usual pasttime of popping beans in the air and catching them in her mouth.
Or on her forehead. "Ow," Meg muttered, rubbing the spot above her eyes where the bean had plonked down. "Bugger." Meghan sighed, sitting up - the pepper flavoured bean rolled off her head onto the blanket, where she popped it in her mouth anyway. She'd been wrong about pepper. It seemed to be concrete. "Ew. Ew!" To offset it, she picked a harmless-looking white bean out of the bag and ate it immediately. It turned out not to be anything disgusting - French Vanilla was actually quite good, in fact. Still, she had disturbed Flora, so Meghan went ahead and asked the worst conversation-starter in the history of ever.
"What're you readin'?" she asked. "It looks... heavy."
The week had been entirely too draining. The only bright spot on this particular day had been most of the afternoon spent with Roland, and she'd come back from that noticeably calmer than she had been the entire week. He'd listened -- mainly what she needed -- and then talked her through the dregs of the utterly bad mood she'd been in. While she still wasn't happy with Dumbledore's assignment, she at least now accepted it, and did as he suggested, reading the responses more critically.
But for now she was safely ensconced in the dorm, reading an old book of Muggle fairy tales. Even if some of them were a bit less than savoury, she still managed to find comfort in them. Turning another page, she marked it with her finger as she looked up at Meghan. She took a bite of her apple, chewing it as she thought. "Grimm's Fairy Tales. One that I've had since I was a baby."
Meg rolled back over on her stomach, chin resting on her hands, and looked at it with interest. "Oh? Oh, my dad used to read those to me! Little Briar-Rose is my favourite. I guess that'd be Sleeping Beauty in English? He had them in Gaelic." The book was still sitting dusty in her father's library, waiting for the day it would be read again.
"You know, though, there really are some brilliant Muggle authors, like Carroll - can't thank you enough for lending me Alice in Wonderland! Tolkien, too. Who's your favourite?" While Meghan wasn't a fan of literature, not like Quidditch, there simply wasn't much else to do during a Scottish winter unless you were a large fan of knitting or baking, and so she did show a bit of voracity for the written word.
"Yeah," Flora agreed, taking a moment to mark her place a bit more permanently before turning to Meghan. She'd really been hoping for a bit more quiet time, but she wasn't going to put Meghan off now. The week had been filled with too much strife for that. "Daddy read them before bedtime, and then when I got old enough I read them to him."
Drawing her legs to her chest, she took another bite of apple. "My favourite's The Shoemaker and the Elves. I'm not sure why, though. but my favourite author? Oh, I don't know. Probably Lewis, to be honest. I wanted to live in Narnia when I was little, and my sister and I used to pretend that our back garden was Narnia. It was pretty fantastic."
Meg grinned, glad to find some common ground with a room mate, especially one who was such a polar opposite to her. "Aye! S'how I learned to read GĂ idhlig in the first place, fairy tales and children's books."
It was strange having this conversation with Flora, especially after the week they had, and Meg lapsed into thought for a moment, pausing in her silence only to reply: "I think every kid dreamed that! My brother and I kept trying to run into Mr Tumnus in the glen, and always hoped for animals to talk." The conversation about beloved books wasn't meant to last, however, as Meghan soon took it to a different topic. "Been a long week, hasn't it? So much has happened. That stupid article."
Flora nodded slightly, her smile, while genuine, still a bit small. "We actually have an old wardrobe in one of our rooms, and Paigey and I would try to get through there. Thomas didn't help at all. He swore that he knew where Narnia was and that he'd show me one day." She smirked a bit. "I'm still waiting."
But all joking and chatter was set aside with the new topic. Suddenly not hungry any longer, Flora put her apple on her bedside table and turned onto her side to face Meghan, clutching Richard the Lion in her arms. "I don't believe I've ever had a worse week here at all."
Meg gave Richard the Lion a small, fond smile, the lioness Roland had given her laying on her bed, perched on top of what it had once been - a pillow. It was quite a brilliant bit of Transfiguration, after all, and a pretty good gift. Instantly, though, Meghan regretted bringing up the topic. When your Muggleborn friend had had a shite week, was bringing up some stupid article against Muggleborns the best idea? No, Meghan, no it wasn't. But what had she done? Dredged up that stupid article.
"It's terrible. The article, I mean, and that Olivia Boswick going on about how it wasn't important any more because it wasn't written two minutes ago." Meg's feet went in the air and started criss-crossing, a bad nervous habit of hers, and one she did the night before many a Slytherin match. "But the week was shite too. It just seems this year the world decided to just go right to hell."
"If I truly cared what Olivia Boswick thought on it, I would have replied to her journal," Flora said lightly, trying to shrug off the fact that for a day or two there, she had cared what the other girl had thought, at least a little bit. "I know. I'm already ready to go home for Christmas."
And while that thought alone was enough to bring a smile to her face, it was made wider by the extremely tentative plans that had been made for her to visit Roland, and him her, over the holidays. "Meg... you don't think that Roland's family would think that way about me just because I'm Muggleborn? I mean beside Leanne, obviously."
"I'm surprised she had a thought, honestly," Meg said, winking cheerfully. "Remember how she shrieked when that picture of her with her hair all Gryffindor'ed was put in a journal? Brilliant, that."
Tilting her head to the side, Meghan thought a moment about Flora's sudden shift. From Christmas to Roland's family. It didn't take a genius to figure that out, did it? "I think they'll love you," she pronounced finally, nodding with approval. "And if they don't, then they're demented, surely. Just take some good Scotch with you, I say." Meg grinned nervously, her legs crisscrossing in doubletime. "It's a bit reversed for me."
"Wasn't like we couldn't see it anyway," Flora said, rolling her eyes and turning onto her back, Richard perched on her stomach. "But what if they don't? What if they don't like me?" Absently, she smoothed the lion's mane, laughing a bit when it roared softly. "They'll like you, Meg. I can't imagine them not."
Diplomatically, she left off the bit about where she thought that Meghan seemed to be a lot like the people that Landon talked about from his little island. She couldn't imagine her not getting on with them.
"If they don't like you, come to Skye with me," she said simply. "My aunt is always after me to bring home friends from school, and you're girly, she'll adore you and want to keep you and heap gifts upon your head in return for saving me from my wretched, heathen ways. I hope you don't mind snow, though. Lots of snow. Lots of wind. It's generally a storm that never stops, Christmas on Skye." T
The idea of Flora spending Christmas with Roland was too intriguing to let go of, and Meghan indulged her curiosity. "So, things are good between you and Roland?"
Flora shook her head, about to protest that she couldn't go to Skye, but then a thought: why not? Why couldn't she? There really wasn't any reason why not. "Well then, if Ro's family hates me then I'll visit you instead. I don't think I'd mind snow. It sounds rather lovely, to be honest."
She frowned in thought at her question. "Yeah, I think they are. He's very... very different from any boy that I've ever liked, I think." And those differences were nice, too. "I think I'm a bit silly over him."
"It's pretty nice, but we can go to Edinburgh if you like. The city's beautiful near Christmas, it's like a snow globe. And you're 'a bit silly' over him?" Meghan repeated, a half-questioning look on her face. "Flor, I've never seen you so... happy. You're over the moon and halfway to Mars about Ro. It's brill." For proof, Meghan gestured to Richard, smirking like she had quite a secret that just couldn't be held in any longer.
"I'm rather pleased with myself for planting the idea, to be honest. I figured you two would get along well. Bean, Flora?" Meg extended the bag across the way, leaning precariously over the edge of her bed. "I think we got a good bag this time. Hardly any gross flavours!"
"You thought we'd get along?" Flora glanced bemusedly at Meg, reaching into the profferred bag and pulling out a small handful of beans. She sighed a bit, closing her hand over them. "Merlin, I like him so much."
She giggled a bit, unable to help it, and popped a bean into her mouth. Instantly her laughter turned to a groan as she realised that the very first had been bogey-flavoured. "Oh, I think I'm going to sick up!"