A Warm Welcome PV Michael M. Leonard O. Closed

Michael hummed as he stood up and walked out of the Great hall. He had about 30 minutes to go, and a hour or so after because of not having a class after. He was holding the strap of his bag, that was saftly secured over his shoulder, with one hand, while the other was sliding among the walls. He didn't know why, but he felt at ease when he could connect to the castle in some way.

He moved and moved to look in his bag, three books were in it, a potions book, as he was still failing at making them. He had his family's Hogwarts: a history book, signed and all, one he read nearly a hundred times, and always had on his person. Finally he has a book called, Werewolves: were wolf means man.

As he walked he started to hear footsteps, and even though they were close, he concluded that it was problary only a student getting a essay they forgot. He continued on, until he was outside, the steps did too.

He bite his lip, trying to act like he didn't heard them. He hurried up his pace, cutting through to the great lake. When he heard the footsteps stop, he smiled and walked through the small wall of trees that blocked a small patch of grass by the lake. He sat and decided to read. He didn't think about the fact the trees blocked him from everyone's view, or about the fact the footsteps could have been soften by the grass.

Interacting With: @Percival Rainwood and (unfortunately for him) @Michael Miller | Hex: #143314

Eating was a luxury Leonard could not afford, not in that moment. It would mean turning his attention to other things, things that were not the utterly infuriating addition and his former tormentor, and those things were much too important to look past. His lunch break was instead spent fidgeting with a small, torn piece of parchment he'd picked up in the hallway and deemed his new temporary stress ball and constantly glancing at his incredibly untrustworthy ally. At any moment, the entire thing could have been revealed as yet another trick, a cruel practical joke that would leave him gasping for breath...

With the clatter of a fork, a rather sharp elbow to his shoulder, and the sound of footsteps, it seemed that for the time being, betrayal was not to be expected.

He followed the other boy, scanning the area for any trace of a blonde, pitifully small Slytherin and scanning his partner in not-quite-crime for any possible weapons to be used against him.

"Ready?' Rainwood asked, a slight smile on his face.

"As I'll ever be," he smirked, eyes lighting up along with the flame. The words were half truths, for one of the only things sure in life was that Leonard Oaksworth and the word ready never mixed. This time around, though, it felt much more sure, as though it may have been more than just something to assure the other boy he wasn't an absolute chicken.

The thought scared Leonard slightly. He decided to move on, turning his focus once again to catching up to the fair-haired bane of the human race, reading an unknown, leather-bound tome on the blades of grass.

"Hey, Miller! That's your name, yeah?" He took on the role of friendly dormmate for the time being, an almost painful smile plastered on his face as he approached his newest victim. "Rainwood and I would like to have a little chat with you."

Michael's head snapped up and he looked over the boys. He smiled slightly, Leo's own putting him at ease. "Yeah, Michael Miller," he said as he looked over them, yesterday was weird to say the least, being so open with the guys was nice, because he was able to get things off his chest, even if the dares weren't the best. He wondered what they could want. Had they been searching for him or was it just luck that made them find him.

He looked over them more as the one, Leo talked, they were older than him. He didn't need to look at their height to see that, the way they carried themselves showed their age, the fact that they were so comfortable with their surrounding as he still had to find his classes at times. "What do you want?" He asked as he looked over at the silent boy, Perc, he thought his name was, though he could be wrong.

He tried to remember if he had said something that could cause them to look for him, maybe he had said he needed help with classes and they were just here to help? He didn't remember anything like that but it could have happened. Or, Maybe, He said something they took offense of? He didn't remember saying anything that couldn't have been settled that night instead of now, but he could be wrong.

He looked back down at his book before deciding to close it and put it into his bag, maybe he could read it later, before bed if he had time. He thought about standing, but whatever they needed probably would not take a lot of time. So he threaded his hands together and got comfortable leaning against the tree instead of slouching like how he was when he was reading. The result of this was that the sun shined in his eyes, but that didn't matter much as he shut one, it wasn't like the boys needed his full sight just to have a conversation with him. Or at least that was what he thought.

@Leonard Oaksworth
@Percival Rainwood

Percival was having trouble comprehending how good things were coming together. Leonard had yet to run off with his tail between his legs, and Miller was right where they needed him to be. Everything was falling together almost perfectly. None of his plans had yet to be foiled. He was almost certain Lady Luck was smiling down upon him. Percival glanced slightly at Leonard as he put up a friendly front. It seemed like the two of them had had different approaches to the situation. He didn't want to play things carefully and coerce the boy into thinking things would be fine. It seemed stupid and a waste of time. They already had Miller where they wanted him.

The boy strode forward at a quick pace a grin taking up residence upon his face. The smile didn't reach his eyes, and black eyes bore down at the blond-haired boy. Percival listened to Leonard's explanation. A chat. The thought was enough to amuse him slightly at the word choice. What was to follow would definitely not be just a little chat between friends. In truth, it would be very far from it. Two wolves covered in sheepskin. Though when putting some more thought into it. Leonard could hardly be considered a wolf himself. No, he was much more of a domesticated dog than a wild wolf. Instead, he had to say they were more like a wolf and a dog in sheepskins. Both carnivorous and ready to rip the lost lamb to shreds. Miller was just a lost lamb who had strayed from the herd. Wrong place at the wrong time. It was hardly their fault for taking advantage of such an opportunity. His thoughts brought an amused smile to his face.

Percival smirked taking a step closer towards the shorter boy. Up close he could see how the sunlight dappled across his skin. The tree provided some shade though it appeared not enough to save the boy from having to squint. "In all honesty Miller, we wanted you." he stated in a frank manner. It wouldn't do them any good to beat around the bush any longer. He was fairly certain Miller was growing suspicious of them, and his patience had worn down to nothing more than a stub. Percival moved quickly seizing the boy's right arm with his right hand in a tight grip. Having to bend down to actually reach the boy. Percival yanked the boy upwards into a standing position glaring into his blue eyes. "We thought it was time for you to become a full-fledged member of our wonderful little dorm Miller." he said with as much zeal as someone reading off the ingredients of a recipe.

Interacting with: @Leonard Oaksworth, @Michael Miller

Interacting With: @Percival Rainwood and @Michael Miller | Hex: #143314 | Word Count: 450

His forced grin turned wider, brighter, almost-but-not-quite genuine, as Miller committed quite possibly the most foolish act ever to occur on the entire school's campus: trusting them. And that truly was saying something, considering all the scratch marks on doors, the faded ashen spots on tables, and the suspicious notes in his father's old journals about the so-called hypothetical effects of using Wingardium Leviosa to drag around a classmate as a clown would with a balloon had to be homes to some ridiculous, terribly stupid ideas. The dubious use of magic by his family was a topic to be contemplated and judged another day, however. The show unfolding was just too exciting to miss.

Each idiotically innocent word that came out of the younger boy only added to his ill-intentioned glee, the fire not yet lit reflecting in his gaze when the other asked what they wanted. It was a simple question, but many answers ran through Leonard's head, as was usual for any supposedly elementary query. To get vengeance, perhaps, for what preventable chaos occurred when the first year neglected thinking a random note from an authority figure that turned out to be decidedly not from said authority figure to be something of importance. To teach a cruel lesson, perhaps, about how the gears of Hogwarts didn't always turn in the nicest ways. To balance the scales, perhaps, and solidify the tradition of shortening the expected life spans of new arrivals to their humble dormitory.

He decided not to voice any of those responses, instead turning to Rainwood. The boy did have a way with dreadful, eloquent reveals of betrayal.

"In all honesty, Miller, we wanted you," the other said, slightly surprising Leonard with his straightforwardness. Then again, even the blunt sword could stab deep. His former tormentor caught their victim in a tight grasp, an increasing desire to flinch and run becoming a neon sign in his mind. "We thought it was time for you to become a full-fledged member of our wonderful little dorm Miller."

He took the words as a signal it was his turn for quarter truths, throwing a quick nod in Rainwood's direction and mirroring his partner in crime's actions. Leonard knew the regret would come sooner or later, lapping, dark waves that would keep him awake for many nights. None of those things mattered in the moment, though, for it was time.

"Just to let you know, you could've saved yourself from this fate," he said, glaring intensely, his rough grip on the blonde's left arm strengthening. "If only you'd spent a little less time searching for friends and spent more time staying out of our way."

"Rainwood, let's show Miller the light."

When Mic had first thought about Hogwarts, he had thought of all the bad things. The fact he wouldn't have all his books, the fact his house elf wouldn't be there. The fact he knew no one there. All the bad weighted him down.

Then he thought of the good. Being around so many people. Having some to talk to. Having someone who cared about him. It made him eager to go.

But now the bad was back, the in form of two boys that towered over him. Mic's eyes where wide and he was frozen at the mention of a light, they wouldn't hex him? He was only 11!

He snapped back to life, and began to try and pull himseld away, pull his arms free. He thought he'd be crying when the truth finally caught up with him. He was trapped away from everyone with boy that wanted to hurt him. "Please don't" he said in a panicked voice.

Then he felt the tears fall down his panicked face. He tried to keep calm but he couldn't. How had he even gotten in their way? He only met them once and he didn't think that was something too crazy.

He should have just stayed at home.

Percival squeezed the boy's right arm hard. Finding pleasure in the boy's terrified expression. The power he felt encompassed him like a shroud. He felt like a ship lost at sea during a storm. The black water threatening to drag him under never to be seen again. If he did emerge he wondered if he would be the same. Or if he would be marred beyond belief. When he would look into the mirror would he see himself? Or would he see a creature tall and thin with wide eyes devoid of life?

It was interesting, to say the least. Not knowing how he would turn out. Though, he was not the only one changing today. He was not the only one evolving. His gaze glanced towards Leonard as the boy grabbed onto the other boy's remaining free arm. A weird feeling of pride filled his chest as the boy played his role to a T. In a way they were putting on a play, and Miller was oh so lucky to be the little star of the show.

The boy increased the pressure of his hold as Miller began to realize what situation he was in. A grin crossed his face as he watched a panicked look on his face. He let out a loud and cold laugh as he noticed the sheen of tears on the boy's round babyface. This was all him. He was doing this. The thought of having this much control of the other was tantalizing. He wanted more from the boy. To see him waller in dispair. "Miller. Miller. You know we can't." he said his tone harsh despite the grin plastered to his cheeks.

Percival glanced towards Leonard at his comment about showing the other the light. An amused smirk crossing his features as he rolled the words over in his mind. It truly was hilarious. They would be showing Miller the light. Just not in the way he would expect it. "Yes let's." he said simply. The boy gripped Miller's arm even tighter. Before, dragging him towards a nearby tree. "You brought the rope, right?" he would ask with a smile. As if they were having a normal conversation about whether or not someone remembered to pack a swimsuit.

Interacting with: @Leonard Oaksworth, @Michael Miller

Interacting With: @Percival Rainwood and @Michael Miller | Hex: #143314

An inescapable ruling of the divinities prevailing over the macrocosm of existence, a law ineludible with as many exceptions as there were Tasmanian tigers known to the world in present day, both were appropriate methods of illustrating the unspoken precedent of interacting with the young Slytherin who’d found himself in yet another dangerous, violent, dangerously violent and violently dangerous situation. He’d known it ever since his first friend in primary declared it impossible to keep companionship with the least fun person on Earth, as he could recall verbatim, and each one of his interactions with his decidedly not-friends in the recent school years only served to shine and polish the engraving further. Written all over the acquaintances that never were and the associates distanced further from him than the morals most twelve-year-olds followed in ink-blotted blocks of black marker, the secret eighth hermetic principle was to never think, not even for a moment, that an amicable relationship with Leonard Oaksworth would last for long.

The scorpion and the frog was a fable that often made an unwanted appearance in his English curriculum, as though the national school boards of Europe had convened one day in one of those fancy marble conference rooms he’d heard of to guilt-trip him into a perpetual void of shame. It wasn’t as though he didn’t deserve it, but he certainly didn’t enjoy having to face indirect consequences for his actions. At various points in his journey to becoming the absolute mess he was in the present, fire-fuel-and-fury-filled day, he had to sit through forty-five minutes stocked to the top shelf with sentences that felt to have the same approximate level of pain as a knight from medieval times forcing a lance through one’s abdomen as said knight continued asking in increasingly shrill pitches why one was stabbing themself. He was a scorpion, that was something even someone of his unsureness he could be sure of, although he could suppose he didn’t fit absolutely perfectly into the arachnidian mold. The predatory pincers of the animal hadn't seen any semblance of honour, and still the few that had didn’t care a bit. He was a bit envious of that, really, for his love of order in society hardly worked cooperatively with the idea of honour. If only he could eliminate all the parts of his brain that controlled the conscience and keep the pieces

In spite of that, however, he would continue to sting everyone and everything that came too close, and without fail he would always fail to keep on good terms with anyone and anything. It was his nature, after all. And perhaps, just perhaps, Rainwood had immunity for now, but there was no doubt their alliance was made of nothing save for pillars of glass and foundations of sand. Still, he wouldn’t take too much time trying to put that information on display for all to see, especially not when their victim wasn’t yet stripped of all escape routes.

He matched his partner-in-technically-not-crime’s smirk. Getting to business immediately wasn’t bad, but he’d at least gotten a somewhat witty comment in beforehand. “Would I ever betray you, Percival?” He laughed a little, bringing the thick brown rope into the other two’s view. “Here it is. Let’s get to work, shall we?”

“It really isn’t anything personal,” he whispered to Miller, not caring much about whether or not said whisper was hushed enough for Rainwood not to hear. He began working on tying the younger boy to the tree, the sentence being repeated over and over as a mantra to avoid succumbing to the madness growing rapidly within.