10 Dec 2024, 00:57
Wanna play?
"No it's not," he answered quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
Insults toward his intelligence had always been met with shrugs and an apologetic smile, but he'd be lying if those words didn't sting. It was one thing for someone to call you an air head or a bludgerhead, it was quite another to hear the same sentiment repeated all around you, just using different words. Half his muggle family, the parts of it that weren't allowed to know about Hogwarts due to the statue of secrecy, had always been told he was in Special Education, the kind with a capital S, a school with a special curriculum for special children who needed a very special amount of time to learn very basic things. The worst part? No one in his family had ever had reason to doubt the cover story—there had been no questions asked, ever.
There was only one person who had scratched the surface on his particular sensitivity, but Professor Fresnel had so many students to look after, she could not be expected to grasp that Finn's insecurities ran much deeper than flunking his Charms.
Realizing he'd been slumping against the wall, Finnegan straightened back up and wiped the morose look off his face. "We really do need a better seeker. I mean, he does his best I suppose but honestly, sometimes I reckon even I could do better." Sports were the one thing he had always excelled at, even though he was of a rather feeble build. The veiled threats Gideon was making toward Elsian went over Finn's head, he had plenty reason to be suspicious of Gideon, but he had no clue about the kind of monster he was dealing with.
"Thank you Gideon, I'm not sure about being the best, but I try to be the best I can be," he said. Somehow, somewhere along the way of their strange conversation he had suddenly gotten a whole lot more truthful. Control was slipping away from him fast, he needed to end this quick before he blurted out something he'd truly come to regret. "I'm off to grab a quick bite and then I'll have to get started on my divination assignment," he groaned. Using his elbows he pushed himself off the wall and seemed to be ready to skip off before he halted suddenly. "Would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me next weekend after Quidditch practice? You know... hang out, get to know each other and stuff."
Insults toward his intelligence had always been met with shrugs and an apologetic smile, but he'd be lying if those words didn't sting. It was one thing for someone to call you an air head or a bludgerhead, it was quite another to hear the same sentiment repeated all around you, just using different words. Half his muggle family, the parts of it that weren't allowed to know about Hogwarts due to the statue of secrecy, had always been told he was in Special Education, the kind with a capital S, a school with a special curriculum for special children who needed a very special amount of time to learn very basic things. The worst part? No one in his family had ever had reason to doubt the cover story—there had been no questions asked, ever.
There was only one person who had scratched the surface on his particular sensitivity, but Professor Fresnel had so many students to look after, she could not be expected to grasp that Finn's insecurities ran much deeper than flunking his Charms.
"You're right, I shouldn't let it bother me," he muttered. There was a noticeable shift in the way he spoke, more plainly, less forced, and not punctuated by quick smiles. Gideon would doubtlessly be observant enough to notice it and realize he had struck a nerve.Having to repeat a year in primary school was like being told to your face that you were a numpty, it just didn't happen. He'd been called a muppet before by his friends from muggle school but he'd always shrugged it off as childish teasing. But sitting in the Headmaster's office that day, flanked by his parents, he'd started to question for the first time if they'd really been joking. If they hadn't been, then how thick was he to only realize it now? The only thing that had saved him from doing the year over had been that owl from Hogwarts.
(...)
Hunched over and cross-legged, he mindlessly picked at the petals from a flower while his mind teeter-tottered from one horrible memory to the next. How many times had George insisted he had rocks for a brain? He'd laughed at it too at the time, he'd shrugged it off just like he'd done with his muggle friends from school. But then Elsian had called him a bludger head, and an air head to boot, and several other colorful things. He'd laughed, he'd shrugged, he'd forgotten about it until now. Today, his useless brain had put all the scum at the forefront of his mind. Everything from the teasing insults to the mild disappointment on his mother's face when he'd presented his report card. Perhaps he could have tried to persuade her that P he had for Charms stood for Perfect, but she would've seen right through that, so he'd told her the truth.
Realizing he'd been slumping against the wall, Finnegan straightened back up and wiped the morose look off his face. "We really do need a better seeker. I mean, he does his best I suppose but honestly, sometimes I reckon even I could do better." Sports were the one thing he had always excelled at, even though he was of a rather feeble build. The veiled threats Gideon was making toward Elsian went over Finn's head, he had plenty reason to be suspicious of Gideon, but he had no clue about the kind of monster he was dealing with.
"Thank you Gideon, I'm not sure about being the best, but I try to be the best I can be," he said. Somehow, somewhere along the way of their strange conversation he had suddenly gotten a whole lot more truthful. Control was slipping away from him fast, he needed to end this quick before he blurted out something he'd truly come to regret. "I'm off to grab a quick bite and then I'll have to get started on my divination assignment," he groaned. Using his elbows he pushed himself off the wall and seemed to be ready to skip off before he halted suddenly. "Would you like to come to Hogsmeade with me next weekend after Quidditch practice? You know... hang out, get to know each other and stuff."
OOC note: If Gideon accepts the invitation to Hogsmeade, assume that Finnegan leaves the thread. If not, I'll do another post.
For what it's worth, I've deliberately framed it as 'after quidditch practice' so that the thread could start before/during Quidditch practice in case Elsian agrees to have some very sudden dental work done to his jaw. If Elsian opts out, it can just be a Hogsmeade thread - that part of the thread I have clear plan for (happy to share what I have in mind exactly if you want more details)
"He's a dweeby chocolate bar lip smacking nerd" - Evelynn Decipio
10 Dec 2024, 01:41
Wanna play?
Gideon tilted his head ever so slightly, the sweet smile plastered across his face, hiding that flicker of malice that sparked behind his big bright blue eyes. Finnegan’s sudden shift to plain sincerity was a curious thing, one Gideon tucked away in the back of his mind for later examination. While paranoid, he was also curious. This was a new game he had yet to play and he had a new playmate. His rivals however would claim that the boy was slipping, unspooling his composure thread by thread. But few understood what made Gideon tick. That what made his so dangerous was in fact his lack of ambition. He lived for the game, the journey was the prize.
“Oh, I’d love to,” he said, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as though the idea of going to Hogsmeade with Finnegan was the highlight of his week. “I think that sounds brilliant! After Quidditch practice, you said? Perfect timing. We can grab some butterbeer or—oh, have you tried Honeydukes' new Fizzing Fireberries? They’re amazing.” While many of his childish antics were simply there for show, he did in fact have quite the sweet tooth.
He clapped his hands together lightly, as if the mere thought of the trip filled him with giddy (HA!) excitement. To anyone watching, Gideon might have looked like nothing more than a delighted boy eager to spend time with a new friend. But Finnegan was more perceptive than his peers and family might have credited him. The Gryffindor might notice the faint glint of calculation in Gideon’s gaze, the wheels already spinning as he envisioned the possibilities Hogsmeade might provide.
Indeed, the crowded streets, the dim corners of pubs, the myriad of distractions—it was the perfect stage for Gideon’s games. He rarely ventured from the castle proper to the coazy village that flanked the wizarding school. It was not due to fear or even preference. Hogsmeade is an exertion of independence, an act that went against the carefully crafted facade of a child he insisted on wearing to disarm allies and rivals. But there was opportunity for novel games in such areas, the lack of familiarity, the 'new' and unregulated space left unaccompanied minors vulnerable to their lack of experience, their impulsiveness and the machinations of those that do not share in their best interests.
“Thanks for inviting me, Finny,” Gideon added, stepping forward and giving the older boy a light tap on the shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie that felt just a little too rehearsed. “It’ll be nice to spend some time together without all the chaos of school getting in the way. Just you and me, yeah?” He was digging, not necessarily hoping. Was there going to be others there? Knowledge was a dangerous advantage to yield to another.
Yet regardless of Finnegan's response, even if there was none, Giddy would accept the invitation.
His voice softened, the words slipping out with an air of genuine affection. “You’re such a good guy. I’m lucky to have you looking out for me. You really are the best, you know?” He had used a similar line on Georgie before slipping into his bed at night. The big guy was none too bright, but he was as loyal as his house suggested.
The compliment was sweet, saccharine even, but Gideon’s mind was far from sentimental. Finnegan had extended the olive branch, and Gideon would take it—only to potentially use it as a lever later. The mention of Elsian Cox earlier still lingered, and Hogsmeade could be the perfect opportunity to address that particular... irritation.
“Well,” he chirped, his voice brightening again, “don’t let me keep you. Enjoy your bite to eat, and good luck with that Divination assignment! If you need any help, you know where to find me.”
Gideon stepped back, giving Finnegan just enough space to leave without feeling rushed, his expression radiating innocent cheerfulness. But as soon as Finnegan turned away, the edges of Gideon’s smile sharpened ever so slightly.
Hogsmeade would be interesting, indeed.
“Oh, I’d love to,” he said, his voice bubbling with enthusiasm as though the idea of going to Hogsmeade with Finnegan was the highlight of his week. “I think that sounds brilliant! After Quidditch practice, you said? Perfect timing. We can grab some butterbeer or—oh, have you tried Honeydukes' new Fizzing Fireberries? They’re amazing.” While many of his childish antics were simply there for show, he did in fact have quite the sweet tooth.
He clapped his hands together lightly, as if the mere thought of the trip filled him with giddy (HA!) excitement. To anyone watching, Gideon might have looked like nothing more than a delighted boy eager to spend time with a new friend. But Finnegan was more perceptive than his peers and family might have credited him. The Gryffindor might notice the faint glint of calculation in Gideon’s gaze, the wheels already spinning as he envisioned the possibilities Hogsmeade might provide.
Indeed, the crowded streets, the dim corners of pubs, the myriad of distractions—it was the perfect stage for Gideon’s games. He rarely ventured from the castle proper to the coazy village that flanked the wizarding school. It was not due to fear or even preference. Hogsmeade is an exertion of independence, an act that went against the carefully crafted facade of a child he insisted on wearing to disarm allies and rivals. But there was opportunity for novel games in such areas, the lack of familiarity, the 'new' and unregulated space left unaccompanied minors vulnerable to their lack of experience, their impulsiveness and the machinations of those that do not share in their best interests.
“Thanks for inviting me, Finny,” Gideon added, stepping forward and giving the older boy a light tap on the shoulder, a gesture of camaraderie that felt just a little too rehearsed. “It’ll be nice to spend some time together without all the chaos of school getting in the way. Just you and me, yeah?” He was digging, not necessarily hoping. Was there going to be others there? Knowledge was a dangerous advantage to yield to another.
Yet regardless of Finnegan's response, even if there was none, Giddy would accept the invitation.
His voice softened, the words slipping out with an air of genuine affection. “You’re such a good guy. I’m lucky to have you looking out for me. You really are the best, you know?” He had used a similar line on Georgie before slipping into his bed at night. The big guy was none too bright, but he was as loyal as his house suggested.
The compliment was sweet, saccharine even, but Gideon’s mind was far from sentimental. Finnegan had extended the olive branch, and Gideon would take it—only to potentially use it as a lever later. The mention of Elsian Cox earlier still lingered, and Hogsmeade could be the perfect opportunity to address that particular... irritation.
“Well,” he chirped, his voice brightening again, “don’t let me keep you. Enjoy your bite to eat, and good luck with that Divination assignment! If you need any help, you know where to find me.”
Gideon stepped back, giving Finnegan just enough space to leave without feeling rushed, his expression radiating innocent cheerfulness. But as soon as Finnegan turned away, the edges of Gideon’s smile sharpened ever so slightly.
Hogsmeade would be interesting, indeed.
[Thread Left/Finished]