1 Dec 2024, 00:15
Cruel Intentions
The late afternoon sun bathed the sprawling lawns of Hogwarts in amber light, but Gideon preferred the shade. He lounged under the canopy of a willow tree near the Great Lake, a practiced air of boyish innocence veiling the sharp, calculating and cruel mind beneath. He had depended on his smaller stature to appear less intimidating, giving his contemporaries the delusion that he was harmless. A half-smile lingered on his lips as he toyed with a strand of grass, a strange, nearly features doll resting against the trunk of the tree. The picture of harmless leisure.
He had always relied on his angelic face to slip through the cracks, to evade suspicion, to manipulate. But now, as he grew older, his charm was becoming an imperfect shield. His jawline had sharpened, his voice occasionally caught a shadow of depth, and his once-cherubic smile could no longer mask the glint of malice in his blue eyes. The transition annoyed him—he preferred being underestimated. While his peers looked forward to the growth spurt, he saw the growing pains as a herald of a new series of burdens as he appeared too old to play with dolls. As people started to believe he was capable of the very acts committed by the young fiend, they would see him as dangerous rather than darling.
A soft giggle drifted toward him from a small group of first-years gathered nearby, their carefree chatter filling the air. He spotted the source immediately: a girl with unruly auburn curls and a hesitant laugh. Third year. A muggle-born, judging by the patched robes that hadn't quite been hemmed to her size. Hogwarts should not admit half-breeds or muggleborns, they did not belong in their world. Their family's question to appear benevolent and inclusive was wasted on them.
Perfect.
Gideon stood, brushing a nonexistent speck of dirt from his robes, and sauntered toward her. His steps were deliberate, unhurried, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. It had, he was impulsive at times.
"Hello," he greeted, his tone syrupy, with a slight tilt of his head that made him look almost bashful. He was getting taller and he hated it, he knew that height ran in his family and he enjoyed the boon of being as his mother called it 'at late bloomer.' he had no qualms being a 'short king' as the muggleborns would call it. "You're the one who raised her hand in Defense Against the Dark Arts today, aren’t you? Brilliant answer about hinkypunks."
The girl blinked up at him, clearly caught off guard by the attention. "Oh, um, yes. Thank you."
Her cheeks flushed pink. Gideon leaned down slightly, keeping his gaze steady and warm—just enough to appear sincere. She was a Ravenclaw, he could tell by their robes. It was a funny thing, how they would sort children into four distinct houses based on the assess emtn of a psychic hat that seemed to know the secrets of a child's head and heart, as if their minds were fully formed by the time they were eleven years of age,. Laughable, but it did him a favor - it told him what others expected of them. The role they were told to play and what they woulds believe because it was told to them so man y time before.
"I could tell you’re clever," he said, letting the words, his lie, drip with admiration. Ravenclaws always believed that they were. "I was thinking... someone like you must know all sorts of fascinating spells. Maybe you could teach me one?"
The girl's face lit up, and she nodded eagerly. She didn't notice the slight curl of his lips as he stepped aside, gesturing toward the willow tree.
The lesson was brief. Gideon’s interest, or the illusion of it, was perfectly tailored to her delight. She never noticed the flick of his wand or the barely whispered flippendo that sent her book bag toppling into the lake.
"Oh no!" she gasped, scrambling toward the edge.
Gideon caught her wrist, a firm yet gentle hold that made her freeze. He smiled sweetly. "Careful. The water’s dangerous this time of year."
Her thanks tumbled out, too flustered to see the flicker of something cold and distant in his eyes.
By the time she turned back to the lake, Gideon was already walking away, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He didn’t look back as he whispered under his breath, sending a ripple through the water and ensuring her bag sank beyond reach.
A faint smirk played on his lips. So simple. So satisfying.
He glanced at a passing fourth-year prefect who gave him a wary look. That was the problem with getting older. Some were starting to catch on. But no matter—Gideon was already planning how to spin this if questioned. After all, who could suspect a sweet, charming boy like him?
He had always relied on his angelic face to slip through the cracks, to evade suspicion, to manipulate. But now, as he grew older, his charm was becoming an imperfect shield. His jawline had sharpened, his voice occasionally caught a shadow of depth, and his once-cherubic smile could no longer mask the glint of malice in his blue eyes. The transition annoyed him—he preferred being underestimated. While his peers looked forward to the growth spurt, he saw the growing pains as a herald of a new series of burdens as he appeared too old to play with dolls. As people started to believe he was capable of the very acts committed by the young fiend, they would see him as dangerous rather than darling.
A soft giggle drifted toward him from a small group of first-years gathered nearby, their carefree chatter filling the air. He spotted the source immediately: a girl with unruly auburn curls and a hesitant laugh. Third year. A muggle-born, judging by the patched robes that hadn't quite been hemmed to her size. Hogwarts should not admit half-breeds or muggleborns, they did not belong in their world. Their family's question to appear benevolent and inclusive was wasted on them.
Perfect.
Gideon stood, brushing a nonexistent speck of dirt from his robes, and sauntered toward her. His steps were deliberate, unhurried, as if the thought had only just occurred to him. It had, he was impulsive at times.
"Hello," he greeted, his tone syrupy, with a slight tilt of his head that made him look almost bashful. He was getting taller and he hated it, he knew that height ran in his family and he enjoyed the boon of being as his mother called it 'at late bloomer.' he had no qualms being a 'short king' as the muggleborns would call it. "You're the one who raised her hand in Defense Against the Dark Arts today, aren’t you? Brilliant answer about hinkypunks."
The girl blinked up at him, clearly caught off guard by the attention. "Oh, um, yes. Thank you."
Her cheeks flushed pink. Gideon leaned down slightly, keeping his gaze steady and warm—just enough to appear sincere. She was a Ravenclaw, he could tell by their robes. It was a funny thing, how they would sort children into four distinct houses based on the assess emtn of a psychic hat that seemed to know the secrets of a child's head and heart, as if their minds were fully formed by the time they were eleven years of age,. Laughable, but it did him a favor - it told him what others expected of them. The role they were told to play and what they woulds believe because it was told to them so man y time before.
"I could tell you’re clever," he said, letting the words, his lie, drip with admiration. Ravenclaws always believed that they were. "I was thinking... someone like you must know all sorts of fascinating spells. Maybe you could teach me one?"
The girl's face lit up, and she nodded eagerly. She didn't notice the slight curl of his lips as he stepped aside, gesturing toward the willow tree.
The lesson was brief. Gideon’s interest, or the illusion of it, was perfectly tailored to her delight. She never noticed the flick of his wand or the barely whispered flippendo that sent her book bag toppling into the lake.
"Oh no!" she gasped, scrambling toward the edge.
Gideon caught her wrist, a firm yet gentle hold that made her freeze. He smiled sweetly. "Careful. The water’s dangerous this time of year."
Her thanks tumbled out, too flustered to see the flicker of something cold and distant in his eyes.
By the time she turned back to the lake, Gideon was already walking away, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He didn’t look back as he whispered under his breath, sending a ripple through the water and ensuring her bag sank beyond reach.
A faint smirk played on his lips. So simple. So satisfying.
He glanced at a passing fourth-year prefect who gave him a wary look. That was the problem with getting older. Some were starting to catch on. But no matter—Gideon was already planning how to spin this if questioned. After all, who could suspect a sweet, charming boy like him?
1 Dec 2024, 01:37
Cruel Intentions
‿︵‿୨✿୧‿︵‿
Interacting: @Gideon Athanatos
Mentioning:
Matt had been oddly pleasant since the ball, slipping back into the role of a perfect boyfriend with ease. He walked her to class, held her hand, kissed her hello and goodbye, and even sat with her during meals. On the surface, it should have been nice, if she didn't know it was a show he was putting on for everyone. It would have been easier if Mathias had treated her poorly, if his behavior had become overtly possessive or even distant, but continuing to be a doting boyfriend was... Terrifying. Every soft kiss, every lingering touch tangled her further into his web.
Unspoken words were always screamed the loudest.
When she had first read the article the Daily Prophet had published, she was mortified, but she soon realized how useful the information it provided was. Winnie needed time to plot, to gather more intel. She almost approached Aamon first, but felt too terrible about potentially endangering the kind boy. Vladimir had always been... Well, not rude. During their limited interactions she found him pleasant enough, but she also had no idea where in Hogsmeade he lived.
Then there was Gideon. Despite his innocent face and the facade he used around others, Gideon had always given her the creeps. It was likely due to Mathias being uncomfortable around him, and, given what she knew now, if someone as terrifying as Matt was scared of someone... Well, she really should have turned and ran the other way.
But she was desperate, so she would seek the fourth year out and try to make a deal with the devil.
On an afternoon she found herself free from Mathias'... Affection, she found the younger boy outside of the castle, taking in the fresh air. He seemed busy with someone else... A friend? No. Her gaze flickered up to watch the pair. For a quick moment she was terrified that the Hufflepuff would push the redhead into the water. Thankfully he had decided on simply sinking her bag. What was the point of doing that? He was just being an asshole and the younger girl was oblivious to his cruelty, much like Winnie had been to Mathias'. A knot twisted in Winnie’s stomach.
"Wingardium Leviosa." She mumbled under her breath, swish and flicking her wand in the direction of the bag. It slowly rose out of the water. She lost concentration on the spell once it had reached the girl's arms.
Taking in a deep breath, Winnie plastered a smile onto her face before practically skipping towards her future brother-in-law. Thankfully she had experience skipping in clunky high heels.
"Hi, Gideon! I've been looking for you. Mind if I take a seat?" She didn't wait for his answer, sweeping her long cascading locks over her shoulder to avoid sitting on them. After she had adjusted her floral dress, she unclasped the satchel slung over her shoulder to retrieve the gift she had made for him.
She pulled out a small package, handing it to him with a small, hopeful smile. "Here, I made you this. We'll be family soon enough, so I was hoping we could get to know each other better!" If he opened the package he would discover a hand-made frog hat/scarf. Winnie had spent a few days using her enchanted crochet hook to create it.
Reducio
│ │ | │ │ | STA: 15 • EVA: 18 • STR: 8 WIS: 11 • ARC: 7 • ACC: 17 | │ │ | • Healing Sage • Muggle Condition • Paragon of Health • • Poison Resistance • Animagus • Wandmaker • Lovely Creature • | │ │ | │ │ |
1 Dec 2024, 02:07
Cruel Intentions
The sunlight, now starting its descent into evening, caught on the wrapping paper of the gift Winnie thrust into his hands. Simple, dull, and uninteresting, but enough to obfuscate whatever lay beneath just enough to pique his curiosity. He loved gifts. His fingers dug into the paper, tearing through the plain parchment with ease, the sounds of tearing stirring something primal within his. With each pull and tear, fragments of green thread visible. The gift a strange curiosity, a frog hat with scarf pockets. Strange, but seemingly comfortable and more importantly adorable.
He paused and studied Winnie carefully, the doe-eyed smile she wore, the practiced innocence in her voice. He knew the game well enough because he played it as well. Well played he thought to himself as his gaze landed back on the green scarf. It was adorable. His fingers brushed over the soft yarn of the frog-themed creation, and he tilted his head, returning her saccharine smile.
“How thoughtful, Winnie,” he said, his voice syrupy, every syllable dripping with counterfeit gratitude. “A frog scarf and hat—how charmingly whimsical.”
Inwardly, he seethed. How dare she insert herself into his day uninvited, acting as if she could weave herself into his world as easily as she crocheted this adorable little gift? Her arrival reeked of desperation. He could practically smell it, clinging to her like cheap fruity perfume.
She was planning something.
“Family, you say?” Gideon mused aloud. Where most teenage boys would have rejected such a gift, he plopped the hat immediately on his head. He felt no shame in acquiring or donning an adorable accessory and felt if anything it enhanced his image as a non-threatening youth. He turned his gaze to her, his smile wide and full of youthful charm. “I think that’s lovely. Family is so important, don’t you agree? It’s the people closest to us who can truly shape our lives. Mold us, even.” He sounded a bit more intelligent than the child he portrayed, his voice a bit deeper than it used to be.
He let the word linger, his voice soft but deliberate, watching for any flicker of unease in her expression.
He wasn’t sure why she had sought him out, but it hardly mattered. Whether she was here to use him, distract him, or plead for some imagined favor, she had offered herself willingly. She was his now.
“Of course you can sit,” Gideon continued, tucking the scarf and hat into his lap. “I was just enjoying the afternoon. It’s important to slow down sometimes, don’t you think?” He seemed to have made himself quite comfortable, a thermos of tea and a pair of tea cups rested on the topside of a large stone he used as a makeshift table. A throw was folded neatly alongside. He seemed to care about keeping nature separate from his form or at the v4ery least the fine linens that he donned.
He leaned back against the tree, keeping his movements unhurried, deliberate. He wanted her to feel as if she were the one imposing, forcing her to question her own presence here. He would reach down and unscrew the lid of his thermos wordlessly and pour himself and her a cup, offering as a test of sorts the second to the Ravenclaw.
The girl from earlier, clutching her soggy book bag, glanced back at him as she walked toward the castle. Gideon caught her eye and flashed a dazzling smile. She blushed and hurried along. The ease with which he controlled people—it was almost too easy.
Winnie’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he refocused, studying her. She didn’t seem like the type to act without a plan, yet here she was, practically handing him the reins. He decided to press, testing her resolve.
If she accepted the cup or not, he would take a sip from his own. “You’re very kind to think of me, Winnie,” he said smoothly, his expression softening as if he were genuinely moved. “It must be difficult for you, with Mathias so busy these days. You’re lucky to have him, though. He’s... protective." He picked the word from a list of I admire that about him.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “But of course, even the most protective people can’t see everything, can they?”
He tilted his head again, his smile unwavering, his eyes gleamed.
“What is it you’d like to get to know about me, future sister? Or perhaps...” His voice lowered just enough to be conspiratorial, as though they were sharing a delicious secret. “...you’ve come to me for help with something? I’d hate for you to think you couldn’t ask.”
Let her squirm, he thought, relishing the tightening knot in her stomach. Let her think she was in control—for now. Whatever she wanted, whatever game she thought she was playing, Gideon would unravel it thread by thread.
He paused and studied Winnie carefully, the doe-eyed smile she wore, the practiced innocence in her voice. He knew the game well enough because he played it as well. Well played he thought to himself as his gaze landed back on the green scarf. It was adorable. His fingers brushed over the soft yarn of the frog-themed creation, and he tilted his head, returning her saccharine smile.
“How thoughtful, Winnie,” he said, his voice syrupy, every syllable dripping with counterfeit gratitude. “A frog scarf and hat—how charmingly whimsical.”
Inwardly, he seethed. How dare she insert herself into his day uninvited, acting as if she could weave herself into his world as easily as she crocheted this adorable little gift? Her arrival reeked of desperation. He could practically smell it, clinging to her like cheap fruity perfume.
She was planning something.
“Family, you say?” Gideon mused aloud. Where most teenage boys would have rejected such a gift, he plopped the hat immediately on his head. He felt no shame in acquiring or donning an adorable accessory and felt if anything it enhanced his image as a non-threatening youth. He turned his gaze to her, his smile wide and full of youthful charm. “I think that’s lovely. Family is so important, don’t you agree? It’s the people closest to us who can truly shape our lives. Mold us, even.” He sounded a bit more intelligent than the child he portrayed, his voice a bit deeper than it used to be.
He let the word linger, his voice soft but deliberate, watching for any flicker of unease in her expression.
He wasn’t sure why she had sought him out, but it hardly mattered. Whether she was here to use him, distract him, or plead for some imagined favor, she had offered herself willingly. She was his now.
“Of course you can sit,” Gideon continued, tucking the scarf and hat into his lap. “I was just enjoying the afternoon. It’s important to slow down sometimes, don’t you think?” He seemed to have made himself quite comfortable, a thermos of tea and a pair of tea cups rested on the topside of a large stone he used as a makeshift table. A throw was folded neatly alongside. He seemed to care about keeping nature separate from his form or at the v4ery least the fine linens that he donned.
He leaned back against the tree, keeping his movements unhurried, deliberate. He wanted her to feel as if she were the one imposing, forcing her to question her own presence here. He would reach down and unscrew the lid of his thermos wordlessly and pour himself and her a cup, offering as a test of sorts the second to the Ravenclaw.
The girl from earlier, clutching her soggy book bag, glanced back at him as she walked toward the castle. Gideon caught her eye and flashed a dazzling smile. She blushed and hurried along. The ease with which he controlled people—it was almost too easy.
Winnie’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he refocused, studying her. She didn’t seem like the type to act without a plan, yet here she was, practically handing him the reins. He decided to press, testing her resolve.
If she accepted the cup or not, he would take a sip from his own. “You’re very kind to think of me, Winnie,” he said smoothly, his expression softening as if he were genuinely moved. “It must be difficult for you, with Mathias so busy these days. You’re lucky to have him, though. He’s... protective." He picked the word from a list of I admire that about him.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle. “But of course, even the most protective people can’t see everything, can they?”
He tilted his head again, his smile unwavering, his eyes gleamed.
“What is it you’d like to get to know about me, future sister? Or perhaps...” His voice lowered just enough to be conspiratorial, as though they were sharing a delicious secret. “...you’ve come to me for help with something? I’d hate for you to think you couldn’t ask.”
Let her squirm, he thought, relishing the tightening knot in her stomach. Let her think she was in control—for now. Whatever she wanted, whatever game she thought she was playing, Gideon would unravel it thread by thread.
1 Dec 2024, 22:25
Cruel Intentions
‿︵‿୨✿୧‿︵‿
Interacting: @Gideon Athanatos
Mentioning:
Winnie's eyes watched the Hufflepuff rip through the plain brown paper packaging. Before she had been broken by this year's revelations, she would have put more effort into the packaging, made a pattern or included bows, but her spark of creativity had long since been lost.
“Yay! I'm so glad you like it. I know it’s not much,” Her smile held as her eyes flickered down to the makeshift table, noting the care he had taken with his setup. "I saw the pattern and thought it would suit you... You have such a flair for fashion and a youthfulness about you, I envy that."
"Oh, yes! I think so as well." She kept her voice light and cheerful, "Family is very important to me. I feel like we're family already, I mean, Mattie and I have been dating for three and a half years now."
“Oh, thank you. You’re too kind, Gideon,” The Ravenclaw said, accepting his offer of tea, "you know, I used to love coming here to have tea parties with my stuffed animals when I was younger. I have a fox named Apricot and a goat named Fig." She didn’t sip the tea just yet. Instead, she cradled it, letting the drink warm up her hands.
Protective. Couldn’t see everything. Winnie had no idea what the Hufflepuff was capable of, but she was finally paying attention to the underlying message. She would try to roll the implications off of her back, but they clung and tightened around her.
"Mattie is protective," she agreed, setting the teacup down onto the stone table, untouched. She tried to smooth her skirt as if the action would ease the tremor in her voice. "I-It's very sweet, but he doesn't need to be. I'm not a delicate flower; I'm very strong after playing Quidditch all summer and helping out around the farm."
“As for getting to know you better...” She lift her gaze to meet his with what she hoped was a look of genuine curiosity, “I have to admit it's... For selfish reasons. I thought spending time with you might help me understand your family and culture better. I'm unsure if you read the Daily Prophet article...” She paused, biting nervously on her lower lip; it had always been a habit of hers.
“Also...” she started, her tone suddenly brightening as if she had flipped a switch, “I think you’re someone worth knowing, Gideon. Don’t you?” She asked, tilting her head.
│ │ | │ │ | STA: 15 • EVA: 18 • STR: 8 WIS: 11 • ARC: 7 • ACC: 17 | │ │ | • Healing Sage • Muggle Condition • Paragon of Health • • Poison Resistance • Animagus • Wandmaker • Lovely Creature • | │ │ | │ │ |
2 Dec 2024, 00:01
Cruel Intentions
Gideon’s pale fingers brushed over the frog scarf Winnie had made him, feigning a contemplative fondness as Winnie spoke. Her nervousness was a symphony to him, every quiver in her voice a testament to her unraveling. But he did not need or want the Ravenclaw to unravel, not yet and not here in the isolation of the water's edge. He allowed a soft laugh to escape, a sound as light as spun sugar, but his mind was already working. Winnie's transparency was almost insulting, but he could turn even this to his advantage.
She was a fascinating pawn, so naive yet so eager to play the game. He understood why Mathias chose her. And now Winnie was desperate to peer behind the curtain of the Athanatos family's aspirations, to see what strings bound Mathias—and now herself. It would be Gideon’s pleasure to show Winnie just enough to ruin Mathias without ever dirtying his hands.
He sipped his tea gracefully, casting an appreciative glance at her untouched cup. So she had figured that one out? Mathias had been dosing Winnie with a forgetfulness potion for years to ensure pliability and compliance. Every time they fought, every time he fell short, every time he thought something would cause her some sort of distress unnecessarily, he would offer her a glass of strawberry juice and all of those pesky issues would disappear. Mathias was as fond of Winnie as he was capable of, the school had no shortage of women of poor breeding much like Winnie. In fact, he was barred from playing with her. He smiled inwardly. She came to him on this day, so all bets were now off.
“Winnie, you flatter me,” he said with a warm smile as though her fumbling compliments were a source of genuine delight but he was referring her untouched cup of tea. “Do you really think I would poison you?" He took a sip of the warming liquid. "I do not wish to be forgotten. But I must admit, it is quite the compliment from someone as intelligent as you to believe me capable.” He played on her Ravenclaw pride even if she was far from the stereotype. He did not want to press the reset button on his playthings, save them from the terror, pain and rage. He savored these moments.
"Strawberry juice was what he used to hide it," he offered without prompting.
He leaned forward slightly, letting the illusion of camaraderie settle in the space between them. “And I do agree—Mattie is protective. A good quality in a partner, no?" In Mathias' case he knew the answer was no. "But I’ve always thought strength like yours doesn’t just come from Quidditch or farm work. It’s something deeper. You must have a strong heart to be part of this family.” Two can play at the game she was playing. He invented this game.
His words were honeyed, but his mind churned with darker thoughts. The irony wasn’t lost on him—her strength, so fragile and situational, was an amusing notion. Did she truly think her three and a half years with Mathias had secured her place among them? That a sudden gift would somehow endear him to her? That he was so cheap? No, Winnie knew about the poison. She was digging, trying futally to fight back.
As she mentioned the Daily Prophet, Gideon’s smile grew sharper, though he hid it behind his teacup. The article had been a tiresome affair, a public relations stunt orchestrated by his parents to cement the family's fabricated inclusivity. Mathias's courtship of this quaint, pitiable Ravenclaw girl was a calculated move—one Gideon had seen through from the start. He did what the rest of them was only superficially willing, to walk the talk and support their dear father's campaign.
Mathias Pride was truly a shameless, cheap whore.
He set his cup down, folding his hands delicately in his lap. “Ah, the Daily Prophet. Such a noisy little publication, isn’t it? Of course, I read it. They have a tendency to sensationalize, but it’s always entertaining to see what stories they spin.” His tone was light, but his eyes burned with intelligence and his words lacked the childish banter he often portrayed, assessing her reaction to his every word.
As she tilted her head and asked if he was someone worth knowing, Gideon chuckled softly, the sound rich and self-assured. He leaned back against the makeshift table, his posture relaxed yet commanding. "Do you believe yourself to be capable of enduring the rigors of pureblooded life? It is a far cry from your life on a... farm," how quaint. Did they even know what money was?
“Worth knowing?” he echoed, as though considering the question deeply. “What a curious thing to ask. You see, Winnie, I think everyone is worth knowing—for the right reasons. Some people, like Mattie," he used the nickname Winnie used for her long-term boyfriend Mathias Pride. Strange how she still chose to use the affectionate moniker rather than his given name. "Shine brightly, don’t they? All power and ambition. But others...” He paused, letting the silence linger just long enough to make her uneasy. “Others are like shadows. You don’t notice them at first, but they’re always there, always watching, always... waiting.” People like him.
His gaze locked with hers, his smile never faltering. “I’d like to think I’m both. Bright enough to notice, but shadowy enough to remain underestimated. That’s where the real power lies, wouldn’t you agree?”
He let the statement hang, waiting for her to respond, before continuing with a casual flick of his wrist allowing the scarf to wave ever so slightly.
“But don’t let me bore you with my musings. Tell me, Winnie—why the sudden interest in me? Surely you know by now that our family isn’t the open book the Prophet likes to pretend. Some chapters are better left unread.” It was a climb for power, siblings set against one another from birth. Never peers, only rivals. Some lost the war, like Mathias Pride, before they even started. He was denied the family surname, his mother dear Matilda was too ambitious for her own good. She should not have been caught killing father's legal wife, perhaps then the bastard would have been left in the running.
Gideon knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t just toying with Winnie; he was attempting to understand her in such a way that he could weave her deeper into his web. Winnie wanted to understand the Athanatos family, but she would only ever see what he wanted her to see.
And when the time came, he would make sure her curiosity cost Mathias everything.
She was a fascinating pawn, so naive yet so eager to play the game. He understood why Mathias chose her. And now Winnie was desperate to peer behind the curtain of the Athanatos family's aspirations, to see what strings bound Mathias—and now herself. It would be Gideon’s pleasure to show Winnie just enough to ruin Mathias without ever dirtying his hands.
He sipped his tea gracefully, casting an appreciative glance at her untouched cup. So she had figured that one out? Mathias had been dosing Winnie with a forgetfulness potion for years to ensure pliability and compliance. Every time they fought, every time he fell short, every time he thought something would cause her some sort of distress unnecessarily, he would offer her a glass of strawberry juice and all of those pesky issues would disappear. Mathias was as fond of Winnie as he was capable of, the school had no shortage of women of poor breeding much like Winnie. In fact, he was barred from playing with her. He smiled inwardly. She came to him on this day, so all bets were now off.
“Winnie, you flatter me,” he said with a warm smile as though her fumbling compliments were a source of genuine delight but he was referring her untouched cup of tea. “Do you really think I would poison you?" He took a sip of the warming liquid. "I do not wish to be forgotten. But I must admit, it is quite the compliment from someone as intelligent as you to believe me capable.” He played on her Ravenclaw pride even if she was far from the stereotype. He did not want to press the reset button on his playthings, save them from the terror, pain and rage. He savored these moments.
"Strawberry juice was what he used to hide it," he offered without prompting.
He leaned forward slightly, letting the illusion of camaraderie settle in the space between them. “And I do agree—Mattie is protective. A good quality in a partner, no?" In Mathias' case he knew the answer was no. "But I’ve always thought strength like yours doesn’t just come from Quidditch or farm work. It’s something deeper. You must have a strong heart to be part of this family.” Two can play at the game she was playing. He invented this game.
His words were honeyed, but his mind churned with darker thoughts. The irony wasn’t lost on him—her strength, so fragile and situational, was an amusing notion. Did she truly think her three and a half years with Mathias had secured her place among them? That a sudden gift would somehow endear him to her? That he was so cheap? No, Winnie knew about the poison. She was digging, trying futally to fight back.
As she mentioned the Daily Prophet, Gideon’s smile grew sharper, though he hid it behind his teacup. The article had been a tiresome affair, a public relations stunt orchestrated by his parents to cement the family's fabricated inclusivity. Mathias's courtship of this quaint, pitiable Ravenclaw girl was a calculated move—one Gideon had seen through from the start. He did what the rest of them was only superficially willing, to walk the talk and support their dear father's campaign.
Mathias Pride was truly a shameless, cheap whore.
He set his cup down, folding his hands delicately in his lap. “Ah, the Daily Prophet. Such a noisy little publication, isn’t it? Of course, I read it. They have a tendency to sensationalize, but it’s always entertaining to see what stories they spin.” His tone was light, but his eyes burned with intelligence and his words lacked the childish banter he often portrayed, assessing her reaction to his every word.
As she tilted her head and asked if he was someone worth knowing, Gideon chuckled softly, the sound rich and self-assured. He leaned back against the makeshift table, his posture relaxed yet commanding. "Do you believe yourself to be capable of enduring the rigors of pureblooded life? It is a far cry from your life on a... farm," how quaint. Did they even know what money was?
“Worth knowing?” he echoed, as though considering the question deeply. “What a curious thing to ask. You see, Winnie, I think everyone is worth knowing—for the right reasons. Some people, like Mattie," he used the nickname Winnie used for her long-term boyfriend Mathias Pride. Strange how she still chose to use the affectionate moniker rather than his given name. "Shine brightly, don’t they? All power and ambition. But others...” He paused, letting the silence linger just long enough to make her uneasy. “Others are like shadows. You don’t notice them at first, but they’re always there, always watching, always... waiting.” People like him.
His gaze locked with hers, his smile never faltering. “I’d like to think I’m both. Bright enough to notice, but shadowy enough to remain underestimated. That’s where the real power lies, wouldn’t you agree?”
He let the statement hang, waiting for her to respond, before continuing with a casual flick of his wrist allowing the scarf to wave ever so slightly.
“But don’t let me bore you with my musings. Tell me, Winnie—why the sudden interest in me? Surely you know by now that our family isn’t the open book the Prophet likes to pretend. Some chapters are better left unread.” It was a climb for power, siblings set against one another from birth. Never peers, only rivals. Some lost the war, like Mathias Pride, before they even started. He was denied the family surname, his mother dear Matilda was too ambitious for her own good. She should not have been caught killing father's legal wife, perhaps then the bastard would have been left in the running.
Gideon knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t just toying with Winnie; he was attempting to understand her in such a way that he could weave her deeper into his web. Winnie wanted to understand the Athanatos family, but she would only ever see what he wanted her to see.
And when the time came, he would make sure her curiosity cost Mathias everything.
@Winnie Harper
3 Dec 2024, 22:39
Cruel Intentions
‿︵‿୨✿୧‿︵‿
Interacting: @Gideon Athanatos
Mentioning:
At the mention of poison, Winnie froze, her fingers clenching down onto the fabric of her skirt. Had she been that obvious? A calculating gaze seemed to run in their family.
There it was; Mathias' weapon of choice. Strawberry juice—the sweet drink Mathias always handed her after their fights, after her tears, after moments that felt blank in her memory. She had always been a sucker for anything strawberry flavoured, how was she supposed to resist her favourite treat?
"So that's what it was..." She said, the words almost whispered. A thin smile curved onto her face, and she had to swallow a chuckle. She wasn't sure why she felt like laughing, maybe because it was all so ridiculous, how naive she had been.
"Thank you, but... Why are you telling me this?" The Ravenclaw asked, her blue eyes searching the boy's face for any trace of emotion behind his cherub facade. Was it because he knew just how trapped she was? "My gift couldn't have been that good."
Each word Gideon spoke felt like a finely placed barb, and now that Winnie had started to drop the act, she raised a brow at his words. "I suppose that's one way of putting it. Mathias has always tried to shield me." The words felt like poison in her mouth, but she had to pretend she wasn't entirely terrified of Matt.
"Quidditch teaches you to anticipate, to move before the Bludger hits, didn't expect to have to do that in my personal life, but... Inner strength doesn't always feel strong." The Ravenclaw's mind so desperately wanted to give into the hopelessness, it would have been easy to just let Matt have whatever he wanted. "I know I didn't grow up in your world, but I don't believe strength is something we're born with; it's something we decide to have."
"The article..." Winnie drew in a breath, trying to swallow her anger. She was humiliated by the way it had portrayed her as some sort of weak willed poor mad girl who was a thread away from snapping. "I do have to wonder who their 'sources' are. Is this sort of thing common for your family? It must get tiring."
"No." Winnie rather bluntly admitted without hesitation, leaning back to watch the placid surface of the lake. "Animals are predictable, they make sense. People... I find them confusing." A small smile twitched back onto her lips as she thought of the journal she used to keep during her first year to jot notes down in, hoping that collecting random facts would help her make friends. "I won't fit into your world. My father is a pureblood so I have had a glimpse of what's behind the curtain, so to speak. I know the stigmas, I know that some people believe I shouldn't exist; even my own great grandmother has told me as much."
She took in another slow breath, reminding herself that she couldn't break down, couldn't mourn the life she thought she would have. Not here. Winnie's blue eyes flickered up to meet his gaze, "Yes... but shining bright can help distract people from what's really happening." Was that what it was for Gideon? Being dazzling enough that people felt the need to drop their guard, give in to that cute round face.
It was too bad for Gideon that silence had never made Winnie feel uncomfortable. She wasn't lying when she admitted she didn't understand people, especially social cues. Her smile only widened to match his own, "I think you're seen and adored, but clever enough to stay just out of reach. It's admirable, really."
Her smile did not falter until his last question. She sighed, her index finger nervously twirling a strand of her long hair. "I've been dating Matt three and a half years and have never been introduced to your family. I'm not naive enough to believe that they're interested in meeting me or that giving you a hat would suddenly make you an ally. I also know that it’s not a matter of if he’ll find out I came to you—it’s when. And when he does, I’ll face the consequences."
"I'm here because I don't have a choice, and I think you know that." She was truly at his mercy, and that was terrifying, "Gideon, you've been nothing but pleasant when you have no reason to be. You don’t owe me anything, I know that, so if you want to walk away without answering me... Well, I understand. But... if there’s a way to stop feeling like I’m walking blindfolded through a minefield... I-If you can help me figure out how to survive this, I'd be forever grateful. Even if it’s just a crumb of advice."
│ │ | │ │ | STA: 15 • EVA: 18 • STR: 8 WIS: 11 • ARC: 7 • ACC: 17 | │ │ | • Healing Sage • Muggle Condition • Paragon of Health • • Poison Resistance • Animagus • Wandmaker • Lovely Creature • | │ │ | │ │ |
3 Dec 2024, 23:08
Cruel Intentions
Gideon had much to gain from this interaction. Athanatos let the silence stretch between them for a moment, savoring the tension. The sadist wearing the mask of a child, leaned back, the frog scarf draped loosely over his lap, and he tilted his head as if pondering her words. The calmness in his expression, the slight curve of his lips, was almost unnerving. Winnie Harper, the "Ravenclaw Quidditch Star" as Mathias sometimes referred to her as, was older, likely more physically powerful than the younger wizard but he did not seem particularly concerned. No, he had nothing to fear. He did not follow the same rules as normal wizards.
After a few moments of thoughtful contemplation he would address the desperate girl. “Winnie,” he began softly, his voice as sweet and disarming as ever, “you really do have a talent for making me feel appreciated. ‘Seen and adored’? That’s quite the compliment. I think I’ll have to treasure it.” He was ever a polite boy.
Gideon picked up the scarf, folding it neatly with deliberate care, as though it were a priceless artifact instead of a simple crocheted gift. When the Hufflepuff finally spoke again, his tone was thoughtful, almost confessional.
“You know, it’s funny. You talk about strength like it’s something you decide to have, like a switch you can flip when life throws a Bludger your way. But I’ve always seen it differently. Strength isn’t just about endurance or grit—it’s about control. Anticipation, yes, but more than that. It’s about shaping the game itself so the Bludgers never hit you in the first place.” That was Giddy's secret. Not to be the target of those bludgers in the first place; choosing when to even enter the game.
The Hufflepuff's eyes locked onto hers, the faint glimmer of malice in the terrible teen was carefully hidden behind an almost pitying smile. He knew how to contort his face, position his body, even the intonate of his words in such a way that he seemed compassionate, concerned. “And that’s where you’ve struggled, isn’t it? You’ve been playing someone else’s game all along. Mattie’s game. My family’s game. Even now, you’re sitting here, hoping I’ll throw you a lifeline, and yet...” He paused, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to feel conspiratorial. “...you’ve come to me. The boy everyone underestimates." That was not by mistake and he understood fully how others saw him. It was intentional. "The one your boyfriend doesn’t even bother to pretend to trust.” Giddy was the one member of this family Mathias Pride was truly terrified of and he had good reason to feel the way he did.
Gideon's laughter was light, almost melodic, as he reclined again. “I admire that, Winnie. I really do. It’s bold. Also, you’re not wrong—Mathias will find out about this, and when he does...” He trailed off, letting her imagination fill in the blanks.
Then, Gideon’s expression shifted, his smile softening into something deceptively sincere. “You’re right about one thing, though. I don’t owe you anything. And yet...” He picked up his teacup, swirling the contents lazily as he studied the tea leaves trying to settle on the bottom. “...I can’t help but be curious. You’ve been in this family’s orbit for years, and somehow, you’re still here. Fragile, yes, but not shattered. That’s interesting. People like you usually break much sooner.” Then, as if an afterthought he added , "also how sure are you that you have never met his family?"
Setting the cup down, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So here’s a crumb, as you put it. Stop looking for allies, Winnie. There aren’t any. Not in this family. The only way to survive is to stop thinking like prey. Stop hoping someone will save you. Start seeing the game for what it is.”
He straightened, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “Mathias doesn’t protect you. He owns you. That strawberry juice? That was never about breaking you down—it was about keeping you pliant, compliant. And as long as you keep reacting instead of acting, you’ll stay in his grasp. Forever.” And that was the absolute truth.
Gideon’s voice softened, though his words were no less cutting. “But survival, true survival, means learning how to play him the way he plays you. That’s what you wanted from me, isn’t it? A way to stop feeling blindfolded? I’m giving it to you, Winnie. The game is the only way out. Learn to play it.” There was a tone of urgency in his voiced as he gave the Ravenclaw this one command.
He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his robes, and draped the scarf over one arm with an air of casual finality. “And one more thing: if you ever find yourself wondering who the ‘sources’ for the Daily Prophet were... ask yourself who stood to gain the most from that little article. Then think about how someone like me might make use of a muggle-leaning pawn in a family that values pureblood perfection.” A slight smile would come across his cherubic face.
Gideon turned back toward the castle, pausing just long enough to glance over his shoulder with a smile that was both charming and chilling. “Oh, and Winnie? I do like the scarf. I’ll most certainly wear it.” He would adjust the hat on his head, swing the scarf around his neck in a dramatic fashion and his expression would change. It would look as if three years were shaved off his teenage face, that was it. This was how he survived.
He walked away, leaving her alone by the lake, the silence as heavy as the implications of his words.
After a few moments of thoughtful contemplation he would address the desperate girl. “Winnie,” he began softly, his voice as sweet and disarming as ever, “you really do have a talent for making me feel appreciated. ‘Seen and adored’? That’s quite the compliment. I think I’ll have to treasure it.” He was ever a polite boy.
Gideon picked up the scarf, folding it neatly with deliberate care, as though it were a priceless artifact instead of a simple crocheted gift. When the Hufflepuff finally spoke again, his tone was thoughtful, almost confessional.
“You know, it’s funny. You talk about strength like it’s something you decide to have, like a switch you can flip when life throws a Bludger your way. But I’ve always seen it differently. Strength isn’t just about endurance or grit—it’s about control. Anticipation, yes, but more than that. It’s about shaping the game itself so the Bludgers never hit you in the first place.” That was Giddy's secret. Not to be the target of those bludgers in the first place; choosing when to even enter the game.
The Hufflepuff's eyes locked onto hers, the faint glimmer of malice in the terrible teen was carefully hidden behind an almost pitying smile. He knew how to contort his face, position his body, even the intonate of his words in such a way that he seemed compassionate, concerned. “And that’s where you’ve struggled, isn’t it? You’ve been playing someone else’s game all along. Mattie’s game. My family’s game. Even now, you’re sitting here, hoping I’ll throw you a lifeline, and yet...” He paused, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to feel conspiratorial. “...you’ve come to me. The boy everyone underestimates." That was not by mistake and he understood fully how others saw him. It was intentional. "The one your boyfriend doesn’t even bother to pretend to trust.” Giddy was the one member of this family Mathias Pride was truly terrified of and he had good reason to feel the way he did.
Gideon's laughter was light, almost melodic, as he reclined again. “I admire that, Winnie. I really do. It’s bold. Also, you’re not wrong—Mathias will find out about this, and when he does...” He trailed off, letting her imagination fill in the blanks.
Then, Gideon’s expression shifted, his smile softening into something deceptively sincere. “You’re right about one thing, though. I don’t owe you anything. And yet...” He picked up his teacup, swirling the contents lazily as he studied the tea leaves trying to settle on the bottom. “...I can’t help but be curious. You’ve been in this family’s orbit for years, and somehow, you’re still here. Fragile, yes, but not shattered. That’s interesting. People like you usually break much sooner.” Then, as if an afterthought he added , "also how sure are you that you have never met his family?"
Setting the cup down, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “So here’s a crumb, as you put it. Stop looking for allies, Winnie. There aren’t any. Not in this family. The only way to survive is to stop thinking like prey. Stop hoping someone will save you. Start seeing the game for what it is.”
He straightened, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “Mathias doesn’t protect you. He owns you. That strawberry juice? That was never about breaking you down—it was about keeping you pliant, compliant. And as long as you keep reacting instead of acting, you’ll stay in his grasp. Forever.” And that was the absolute truth.
Gideon’s voice softened, though his words were no less cutting. “But survival, true survival, means learning how to play him the way he plays you. That’s what you wanted from me, isn’t it? A way to stop feeling blindfolded? I’m giving it to you, Winnie. The game is the only way out. Learn to play it.” There was a tone of urgency in his voiced as he gave the Ravenclaw this one command.
He stood, brushing imaginary dust from his robes, and draped the scarf over one arm with an air of casual finality. “And one more thing: if you ever find yourself wondering who the ‘sources’ for the Daily Prophet were... ask yourself who stood to gain the most from that little article. Then think about how someone like me might make use of a muggle-leaning pawn in a family that values pureblood perfection.” A slight smile would come across his cherubic face.
Gideon turned back toward the castle, pausing just long enough to glance over his shoulder with a smile that was both charming and chilling. “Oh, and Winnie? I do like the scarf. I’ll most certainly wear it.” He would adjust the hat on his head, swing the scarf around his neck in a dramatic fashion and his expression would change. It would look as if three years were shaved off his teenage face, that was it. This was how he survived.
He walked away, leaving her alone by the lake, the silence as heavy as the implications of his words.
6 Dec 2024, 21:46
Cruel Intentions
‿︵‿୨✿୧‿︵‿
Interacting: @Gideon Athanatos
Mentioning:
Gideon was quite the pleasant company, it was too bad she could no longer take any of his family at face value. Despite being the one who approached him, she expected to feel like the mouse to his cat, instead he had offered her tea and conversation. He was a puzzle. Polite to a fault, disarmingly sweet, but behind those honeyed words was something that unnerved her... She just couldn't put her finger on it. He was clearly just as talented at lying as Mathias was.
She was starting to wonder if the family was schooled in it at a young age. Did sweet Aamon also have a dark side as well? She had not realized his connection to Matt at first, admittedly, but the last name was there.
His views on strength were interesting, to say the least. "You're right, Gideon. Control is important, but wouldn't you say there is strength in being able to endure what you can't control? I've never been very good at control, clearly." Her angry outbursts in the past had proven as much.
"I never asked to play this game." Her response came as almost a whisper as she leaned forward, her blue eyes scanning his features. His pitiful smile stung, but it still masked what she would assume was amusement. She wondered if they were all watching Mathias' puppet show, laughing at her behind the curtains. "I came to you because Mathias doesn't trust you. You're clever, you know how to make people see you the way you want them to. Meanwhile I've always worn my heart on my sleeve... I've only just started to wake up."
The knot in the pit of her stomach tightened when he confirmed Mathias would find out about their meeting. She was certain he would, but hearing him confirm it made her fears resurface. Who would he target to punish her? Would he target her or someone she loved?
Gideon's truths were harsh, but it was a rare bit of honesty from his family. She listened to him, gaze unbreaking as she absorbed his advice like a sponge. When he had finished she sat in silence, allowing him to stand up and ready himself for departure.
"My mother gave me the middle name Daisy because of the flower's resilience." She would share a piece of information with him that might have sounded trivial, but Winnie felt the flower reflected her spirit. "She told me they could bloom no matter the harsh environment they were exposed to, cracks in the concrete, harsh soil... They still grow."
She looked down at her hands, fingers absently playing with a blade of grass as her brows furrowed. "I won't break. I can't afford to. I don't stop because I never learnt how. Maybe it's not the kind of strength that you value, but it's what has gotten me through this so far." Her eyes flickered back up to him, "So, I'll do what daisies do; I will grow and adapt."
She'd watch him start to walk away, giving him a nod when he glanced back at her, "Thank you, for the crumbs."
│ │ | │ │ | STA: 15 • EVA: 18 • STR: 8 WIS: 11 • ARC: 7 • ACC: 17 | │ │ | • Healing Sage • Muggle Condition • Paragon of Health • • Poison Resistance • Animagus • Wandmaker • Lovely Creature • | │ │ | │ │ |