Ultimatum PV November Morsus Closed

Green found November hunched in his chair, staring at the mountain of food on the table, occasionally delicately picking and nibbling at the incredibly meagre portion on his own plate.

He did this every night.

Most of the other Slytherins had learned to stop asking about it, if they ever asked at all, so it had sunk into a bit of a routine at this point. What was most certainly not routine was the press of tiny ribs against his back, the appearance of paper dangled before his eyes.

He was so shocked he dropped his fork, clattering to the table with a soft porcelain sound. "I-... Green?" He couldn't see who was behind him, but somehow, he just knew that the only person who was both this brazen and this interested in November's affairs was Green and Green alone.

"I-... Hello," he said, turning around to confirm his suspicions, smiling shyly as pink suffused his cheeks. "What have you got for me today?" Green certainly knew how to make an entrance, command attention be placed on whatever he wished it to be, and so of course November was curious about the note. But more than that, he was glad for the company. He'd missed Green ever since he'd spotted him in ruby and gold, not emerald and silver like himself. November had figured it for just one more thing he'd loved taken away, but Green had blessedly refused to give him up that easily, sneaking off to meet him whenever he was able, and the sight of him never failed to bring a smile to November's face.

Green's eyes widened as he spotted the clean white of November's barely plate, one eyebrow rising. Did the boy expect to live like this? Barely breathing and eating air? No. Absolutely not.

Tucking the note back in his pocket, Green clicked his tongue at November, a mirroring blush rising in his own cheeks as he spotted the smile, felt a fluttering urge to he-didn't-know-what rising in his chest. Perhaps shove the boy's face into the mashed potatoes.... No, not that. Business.

Green sucked on his lip as he considered November's smile, leaning over him to scoop mashed potatoes onto the other boy's plate. "A proposal," he said, putting the spoon back gently, "That I believe you will want to hear. That you'd better hear," he amended, looking November up and down, worrying that lip. He looked over the table again, spotted a platter of slices of roast ham, speared a few and slapped them down onto November's plate. "But first," he said, scooping greenbeans onto his plate, "I demand," he said, topping the greenbeans with almonds, "that you FEED yourself." He thumped November's cup down in front of the boy, filling it with pumpkin juice. Then he picked up plate and cup and note, and turning his back, nodded at November. "Well? Come with me." He headed for the little curved corners of the entrance hall, where several semi-private alcoves with stone benches stood.

And just as the note had appeared, it was gone. November thought to reach for it, but then, Green would likely just taunt him further if he did, keep it further out of reach. So, he just, let Green do whatever Green would do. He'd learned by now that things worked best that way.

What that appeared to be was taking November's plate and piling it with an absolute embarrassment of delicious-looking foods. He wondered how Green could possibly stay so small if he ate that much, and if he would get in trouble for taking November's plate for himself, or for that matter, if November would. He gulped, shifted in his seat, nervous.

He nearly fell off his seat when it was revealed that all of that food was intended for him. "Oh, I-..." He shook his head, bewildered. "All of that? Really?" Sure, he'd seen other children eat as much or more, but the thought of doing it himself... It downright boggled the mind. "You-... You can't mean that..."

But Green was already gone, and November could do naught but follow. Briefly, he wondered if they'd be chastised for bringing food outside of the designated dining table, but he grimly accepted this fate, knowing he'd never get Green to change course or even slow down, and slunk after Green, proverbial tail between his legs.

Green shot November a look. "Of course I mean it! You think you can get away with eating so little? If my grandmother were around, she'd smack you silly," he huffed, shaking his head. His grandmother's memory was only vague, and he had absolutely no memory of the woman ever laying a hand on him save for in care, but he had a sense that she'd said that a lot.

A moment too late, he also remembered that Rainier Green should never have known her at all.

Blanching, he sat down heavily in the alcove, then looked up at November, swallowing as he waited for him to sit beside him. "Good," he said gently as he drew him in, handing him back the plate, the cup. "Now eat. Drink. What's the point of using kn- of doing all those things you do, if you're not building the muscle to do them? Eat, eat," he urged, leaning forward, watching him.

"And afterwards," he said, soft as first spring, "you can read this." He slipped him the folded note, swallowing nervously, staring at him as he did so.

The note contained only nine words: Green licked his lips. Or else, he whispered in the back of his mind, juggling it between what he would say and what he shouldn't.

For a moment, November could only stare at Green, blinking, confused. For one, he generally got smacked silly for eating too much, not too little, and for another, he didn't understand the look of sudden shocked realization on Green's face once he'd mentioned his grandmother. Well, maybe he was still frightened she'd catch him out not eating enough supper even here, or something, who knew.

"I, um, I guess I'll eat, then..." It wasn't even the things he'd normally have chosen, (he found ham far too salty most of the time,) but all the same, he picked up a big forkful of green beans, attempted a larger than usual bite, feeling all kinds of awkward. "Mmph," he mumbled, attempting to chew and swallow without choking.

He very nearly did choke at the reveal of the contents of the note, his eyes going wide, the fork dropping from his hands to clatter to the ground. He sat like that, utterly still, for a very, very long time, as his mind raced and whirled and quietly panicked over the contents of the note.

First off, he was being blackmailed.

But even that paled in comparison to the even bigger bombshell that tiny scrap of paper had dropped:

Green wanted to go to the ball. With HIM.

"I-... You-... Really?" he sputtered at long last, tears in his eyes.

Really? What did that mean, really? 'Do you really want to go to the ball with me,' or 'Would you really betray our friendship this way?' or even, 'Did you really think this would be an acceptable way to ask?' And he didn't know. He didn't have a good answer to any of those questions.

So he licked his lips, stared at November intently, and reached down to pick up his fork.

"Don't think you're getting out of dinner that way," he said softly, cleaning the fork with his handkerchief. "Dancing is a physical exercise, you know. Grace requires strength. And we can't have you fainting out there, you're better than that," he said, placing November's fork gently back in his hand.

He swallowed, looked away. "Now... I'm not saying that I would go off telling everyone if you choose differently, per se," he gestured, biting his lip, eyes narrowing at some spot off in the distance. "I'm just reminding you of a certain factor that should be involved in your decision," he stammered, fingers tapping on his knee, toe tapping, agitated. He snuck looks at November once, twice, three times.

"It's really just better for everyone if you go with me, is what I'm implying." He swallowed. Straightened. "Do you have fancy dress robes?"

November looked down at the dropped fork, blinked a few times, still in stunned silence. Suddenly, eating that whole pile of dinner seemed even more of a daunting task, given all the butterflies that were banging and fluttering around in his stomach. At last, he reached out and took it, only to clutch it to his chest and continue to be dumbfounded rather than go back to eating.

"I-... But-... You actually want to go with me?" November blinked big, baffled eyes at Green, trying to make sure this wasn't too good to be true. The threat in his words hardly even seemed to register, so baffling was the request. It was like he was being ordered on pain of death to enjoy as many sweets as he'd like. "This isn't a, a prank, or a joke, or anything like that? You want to go with me?" Tiny pinpricks of tears shone in the corners of his eyes, threatening to fall.

At Green's rabid insistence he eat to increase his strength, his now quite visibly shaking hand reached down to spear another string bean on his fork, which once again hung rather limply in his grasp as he grappled the far larger task of trying to make sense of all this.

Green stared at November, brow furrowing as he teared up. What was this? Was he crying? What was the confusion here? The urge to reach out and push the other boy suddenly swelled in his chest, and he took in a sharp breath, eyes narrowing at him.

"Of course I want to take you! What kind of prank would it be to get you to come with me and then say no? Don't be ridiculous. Eat your beans," he ordered, gently guiding November's fork up to his mouth, as if simply getting it all the way up there were the problem.

"Besides, if it were a joke, I'd be in the same boat you are. I don't intend on taking anyone else. And frankly, there's no one I'd rather," he blushed, looking away. "And, I mean... we've got to go to these things anyway, don't we? Appearances and all," he sniffed, tossing his hair back.

"Which leads me to my former question. Do you have any dress robes? Or can you at least sew?" he looked November up and down, sizing him up for suits and cloaks. "If you don't, I might be able to ask for an advance in allowance from my father... or at least some old fabric we can use. We might need to tell him you're pureblood, though. You don't mind that, do you?" he asked, head tilting. "Oh, and that you've got a sister. But never mind the details, I'll handle him," he scoffed, waving a hand.

"I-... Mmmph-..." November suddenly found his mouth filled with string beans and almonds, and had no choice but to take a moment's pause to chew, digest both the beans and the words he'd been presented with. Green actually wanted to go with him. Over everybody else. He had no idea what he could have possibly done to deserve such kindness, such luck. There were so many beautiful girls here, strong, ambitious boys. They all could have helped Green keep up appearances far better than November...

At last, he managed a nervous gulp. "I-... Of course I'll go with you, I-... I can't believe-... I-... Don't have any fancy dress," he finally finished, lamely, his head hanging a little. "Never had anything like that, really, they always just said that nice clothes weren't for 'the likes of us,' and that we should be happy the things they got us out of charity bins...." His shoulders slumped, he sighed softly. "But... I wouldn't want to put you to any trouble with your family, either...." At this, a nervous glance upward. "I mean, I don't want you to get caught in a lie..." Not that it was even a true lie, for all he knew, he very well could be pureblood and have a sister.