Guess who just got back today....

[inner_human]

Date: Friday, June 2, 2000
Time: Late morning
Character(s) Involved: Montague Morsus, Peregrin Derrick
Location: Arcadia Gallery
Rating: PG-13... just to be safe
Complete or Incomplete: Incomplete

Comments

[morsus_et_mors]

"Obviously - how many years was it?" Montague replied with a smirk matching Perry's, a friendly smirk, shared between friends, not offensive in the least. "I'd even go as far as prodding you to acknowledge I look better than yourself now, but I doubt your narcissistic self would ever cede to me." He grinned.

It really had been around five years since they've last properly met, not taking into consideration the smaller meetings that also ceased at about the same time. Had he missed Perry? Probably not, at least not on the surface (what was beneath it was unknown even to himself), but they had been very close by the Pureblood standards when they were both attending Hogwarts. Initially an attraction of like-minded individuals, it later on grew into a comfortable unimposing friendship, where neither of the sides was bound with whatever obligations usual relationships have.

A flurry of thoughts passing through his head in the first few seconds, as he watched Perry with the same half-smirk and half-smile, Montague scowled slightly, as if scurrying them away, before making a step toward his friend. A stride that grew slightly quicker and more impatient with every step, when he halted a few inches away from the other male, invading his personal space unabashedly.

His only friend - his only friend, really, coming back alive after years of missing, or so Montague thought. Did that not call for a special kind of display of emotion? Sincere, not something thespian that he was so good at. But sincerity was the hardest thing of all, wasn't it?

"Good to see you, Perry," he finally said, locking his gaze on that of the other male for a few long seconds, as if re-establishing their previous connection.

[inner_human]

"A fair few, I think." A fair few, indeed; five, to be more precise. It didn't seem like such a long time, even though it really was.

Hah, Montague was just as cocky as ever. "Don't press your advantage, mate. I still clean up pretty well." He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously, though it did little besides muss his hair in a different direction.

Perry just watched as Montague moved closer, but the moment the younger man entered his personal space he could feel his muscles tense, as if he expected to be attacked. But Montague did no such thing, and Perry met his gaze with a thoughtful frown; he, too, remembered the connection he and Montague once shared. Perry had had very few close friendships while he was in Hogwarts, simply due to lack of interest in the world around him. So it probably meant little to consider Montague his best friend; even now, Perry hesitated to use the term. But in a purely literal sense, it was perhaps the most fitting.

Which was why, even now, Perry feared the other man's judgment and eagerly searched his eyes for anything mocking or less than sincere. But seeing nothing, his doubts slowly began to disappear. Not all of them... but enough for him to think that maybe this was one part of his life that might have stayed the same.

But wait, how long had they been standing here staring at each other like two emotionally constipated goons? Perry grinned and clapped Montague on the shoulder, giving him a light, teasing shake. "You too, Montague."

They should probably hug or something. Instead Perry removed his hand and glanced around the room before looking back to Montague. "So, now we catch up while you give me a tour of the place, right? I see you've taken up the family business of indulging in anything expensive and pretty." He raised an eyebrow in mild amusement.

[morsus_et_mors]

"Hahah, what else was I supposed to take up on?" Montague laughed lightly at Perry's comment, relieved that the moment of to-be-intimacy was now gone without any seeming traumas to either. Not exactly the physical and affectionate type, the two of them. Which was good, it showed that Perry, too, had stayed the same in this department - not growing all emotional and weak as the years passed. What use was there in emotions anyway?

"It is not like I am very good at proletarian professions," he then said with a smirk, a superiority they both used to share, before starting to lead their way inside the gallery. "Here, at least, I have some semblance of how things are supposed to be - beautiful, silent and pure." Montague glanced sideways at his companion, now taking his time to study the other man carefully - indeed, already a man now. Perry still was taller than himself, which was a point of slight irritation for Montague. He was used to being the towering bully, intimidating others just by his mere presence, but with Perry it was unlikely. Perhaps even quite the contrary - not that Montague could ever be intimidated by another, lest that someone was the reincarnated Dark Lord himself.

"I was left this as part of my inheritance-- and say what you will, but I guess it was a bit of sentimentality on my part, not wanting to sell it away and all." Montague shrugged. They were already inside the Romanticism Hall of the gallery, which was always the first one, displaying various paintings and sculptures produced in a similar vein. It was the most innocent of all galleries that Montague had, the most innocent and the most naive - and it was quite the irony that Montague happened to love that gallery of his the most.

[inner_human]

Perry followed along at Montague's side, respectfully acknowledging Montague's career choice by trying not to laugh. Unfortunately he had to agree, Montague holding a lower class profession was a difficult, if not impossible picture.

"Pure?" At that, Perry had to raise an eyebrow and grin. He silently wondered which definition of "pure" Montague happened to favor. But he didn't follow this train of thought, instead listening to Montague's explanation of the gallery. Part of his inheritance--that earned a sidelong glance from Perry. Immediately his thoughts went to Montague's mother; from who else would he have inherited Arcadia? Not his father, who had died while they were both still students. But upon losing his own family, Perry had lost all contact with Montague had had no clue what happened to his.

Now, however, was not an appropriate time to bring it up; not while they were looking at art! From the era of Romanticism, of all things. Perry was never much of an art enthusiast, though his parents had all but forced it upon him. To him, artists were by and large whiners with too much time on their hands. He had been especially critical of the Romantic period and liked little beyond the colors and occasional violent subject matter. He found now that he had a much different perspective. What was the point in expressing such raw emotions, he had thought? Did those emotions exist at all?

"You'll hear no criticism from me," Perry replied, stepping away to study a painting. To Perry, sentimentality was reason enough to keep the place. "If only I had a private art gallery in which to hide from the slobbering masses... lucky bastard." He glanced to Montague and smirked.

[morsus_et_mors]

"Oh you would," Montague smirked back at the other man haughtily. He was already falling back into his amicably mocking self, so very familiar to Perry. It was not something many saw coming from him in the past few years, made to suffer his cruel arrogance mounting up to outright rudeness and disregard for other people's opinions. Curious how quick a person could adopt his old ways at an encounter with people and/or objects from the said person's past.

"Quite the sagacious comment though, Perry," he said, allowing himself a small smile. "Arcadia does not bring much money, as you may have guessed already. Thankfully, parents had ample funds stored in vaults everywhere, so I do not have to worry about such pettiness." Montague shrugged, his thin and angular shoulders lifting up elegantly. There was his Galleon rolling between his fingers again, as he watched it, transfixed.

"One redeeming quality to their otherwise useless lives," Montague added, gaze still locked on the shining bit of metal. It rolled aptly between his slender knuckles, an unobtrusive reminder to how deceptive looks could be. A rare man escaped Montague's cold fury, an even rare one surviving it unscathed, despite his calming appearance of an aristocrat, only good at parasiting on others.

"But do tell, my dear hermit friend," he then said, leaning against the statue of Dionysus, and watching Perry study the painting. "Care to fill me in on the past few years of your life?" Montague arched an eyebrow at the other man, fingers linked in front of him, as the Galleon disappeared somewhere in the silken depths of his suit. "Just the highlights, if you'd like?"

[inner_human]

Perry could only grin at Montague's mocking comments. This felt so much like old times. Even Montague's mention of his ample wealth was received in good humor, though grudgingly. Perry's grin quirked with a slight impression of sour envy, perhaps. He heard the quiet friction of soft metal against skin and glanced back to watch the Galleon's progression from the corner of his eye. He remembered wealth.

But he returned to the painting, refusing to show any of these weak emotions. He resented the longing that gripped him whenever he thought of his losses. Wasn't it about time he moved on?

As if reading his mind, Montague asked the very question Perry didn't want to answer, but knew couldn't be avoided. Perry turned to look at him. "Highlights?" He chuckled. "I'm sure you've more to boast than me."

He looked to the painting once more; a boating excursion gone horribly wrong. Well, Theodore Gericault's painting was more complicated than Perry's ironic point of view. He stared at the dead and dying figures sprawled over The Raft of the Medusa, somehow staying afloat over churning waters. The stubborn human instinct to cling to life, to exist amidst chaos and utter hopelessness called to him, though he did not take the opportunity to wonder why.

"The past few years," he said, voice drifting, the thought threatened to disappear among many others inspired by the painting's horrific scene. It took a moment before he could dislodge himself from that reverie. "They've been nothing of import," he continued, "I've simply been waiting out the war. Like everyone else."

He finally broke his gaze and looked at Montague. "Like you, I'm sure?"

[morsus_et_mors]

That was not too much of the information Montague had inquired. He arched an eyebrow, watching Perry near the painting, a fine specimen of the darker side of Romanticism. Well, if Perry was not feeling like telling, Montague was not about to probe on further. Not that it would have yielded any results anyway.

"I see," Montague remarked, tossing up the Galleon and catching it skillfully. He fell silent for a few moments, considering the question in kind. Not a very fair exchange now was it? Had Perry told Montague more about the past five years he'd gone missing, Montague would have considered telling a bit of the truth as well - but without being given anything, he was not about to give anything in return.

All the Slytherin etiquette, you know.

"Well, not exactly," he started, reflecting the other's grin. "I took quite the active part in the war - all these scars, where do you think I got them?" Montague pointed toward his unblemished skin, as if there were the scars, very much invisible, but present. "I was a Death Eater, you didn't know?" He feigned surprise, clicking his tongue in an audible tsk-tsk.

"I killed many-many-many households, tortured all those innocent maidens, and ate the brains of little children for breakfast," Montague's eyes flashed sinisterly, as he lowered his chin, looking up at Perry from beneath his eyebrows. "You know, all those evil things that villains do. It was a nice job, but my manicure kept on getting spoiled with all the blood and phlegm."

He waited a few seconds on the other man, before grinning brightly, exposing the rows of perfect teeth, sharp and glisteningly white. Such fun, such fun.

[inner_human]

Oh no, Perry was still not very confident about revealing his activities of the last several years, and he had returned the question with the expectation that Montague would answer in a similar manner. Assure Perry that yes, he had only been waiting out the war, and nothing else.

Perry turned his head a little too quickly to have considered Montague's reply a joke, and his eyes were a little too wide to have received the information with sympathetic understanding or, at the very least, uninvolved neutrality. Upon hearing the term "Death Eater" there was even the hint of a haunted repulsion... until he realized that Montague was, in fact, being facetious. His words were just a little too mockingly descriptive.

Now Perry simply appeared haunted by the ghost of a joke that he had not picked up on quickly enough.

He recovered, of course, and grinned, though not with appreciation. Only because it was the expected reaction. Because Montague was grinning, and they were old friends sharing in a joke that, if Perry was the stupid seventeen-year-old he once was, probably would have been a lot funnier.

"Just what I needed to hear right now, Montague, thanks," he laughed in a very hollow way... but he didn't sound entirely sincere.

[morsus_et_mors]

"Oh please," Montague sniffed scornfully, instantly noting the lack of enthusiasm on the other's part. Quite the suspicious and symptomatic thing, if it came down to that. Perry clearly had some issues - although what they were was beyond Montague's grasp.

He dared not even think that they may have been and still be on the different sides of the war. Perry did, after all, stay hidden, waiting on the war to end, didn't he? All the same. Just like with Snape, Montague would have to watch his tongue now. Not a very new thing. No one could be trusted in this world, even old friends.

"Considering you've grown clearly soft in all those years, my friend, we'll have to stop discussing such gory and uncouth things," Montague smirked with slight derision. The Galleon disappeared in his pocket.

Pulling away from the statue, Montague neared Perry and silently showed their way out of the Romanticism hall. "There's an inside garden, we can sit there, if you'd like, and discuss weather and girls and the newest trends in fashion." He smiled coldly, vulnerable tentacles of sincere friendliness pulled inside, under the safety of Montague's numerous masks.

"Honestly, must be Theodore the Meek having his influence on your tastes, dearest - have you been around him for too long?" he noted, as they exited the room, starting on the long and dark corridors.

[inner_human]

Ah, there was nothing like that let-down of adrenalin after you realized you'd gotten excited all for nothing. Of course, Perry wasn't letting on just how cold his insides felt in the wake of Montague's joke. His previous concerns threatened to creep back, to alert him that maybe there was something he was missing, here. But he didn't want to dwell on it. He was grasping for a normal conversation with an old friend.

Perry, you definitely need to relax.

Soft? Perry frowned. The very idea! But, then again... maybe he had gotten soft? He'd switched to the good side and everything. But that had been in the interest of survival... bloody stubborn survival. He hadn't really changed much, other than that... right?

This was a good opportunity to punch the man... playfully, of course! In the shoulder, a nice sound hit, a bit hard but that was okay because they were mates, and mates could get away with it. But he didn't. He kept his hands in his pockets, walking at Montague's side down the corridor.

"I'm insulted," Perry said dryly, brow raised. "I'm not so easily influenced."

But he was troubled, at the moment. He watched Montague warily, noting that his sarcasm had a little more... sting, now. Why suddenly so cold?

"Which of us has grown soft, again?" Perry said loftily. "You sound offended, Montague. I didn't expect you to be so easily hurt by anything I should say." If Montague was going to needle him, then it was only fair that Perry return the favor.

[morsus_et_mors]

Montague kept his silence as effectively as he could, as they walked down the owner's corridor, past the various doors into various gallery rooms. He was leading them the shortest way into the private chambers, where there would be less of the paintings and sculptures to distract them - less of that all around officiality.

He tried keeping his silence for as long as it was necessary to make Perry start feeling uncomfortable, but that was nearly impossible. Montague's lips threatened to spill into an appreciative smile - the old bastard was still the same! It was entirely possible that it was merely wishful thinking on Montague's part, but for the moment he didn't care.

With the suddenness of a raptor (no, really) Montague turned to Perry and advanced him, intruding on the other's personal space arrogantly. Damn Perry's height, he thought, before brushing the thought aside, and looking up at the other man - a corner of his lips curled in an amused smirk.

"My dear friend, why act so surprised when you always knew just how precious your opinion was to me?" He grinned. "Please, do not disappoint me," he added then, the smile wiped in his seriousness, "I'm tired of being disappointed in everyone I once respected." With that he cocked his head, waiting on the other's response, before continuing their way.

[inner_human]

If anything, the silence was succeeding in annoying Perry. He'd expected more of a reaction from Montague--wanted it, really. The prat was probably doing it because he knew it would piss Perry off.

And then Montague was suddenly in front of him, right in his face, and Perry instantly flinched back a step, muscles tensing as if he was reacting to a potential assault. Definitely a move of the high-strung and paranoid. He realized a second later that Montague wasn't about to attack him, but the man was still there, right within his personal space, doing his best to stare Perry down despite their very close height.

Perry's teeth were clenched within his mouth as he stared back, still tense, listening closely to what Montague was saying. Those honeyed terms of endearment--and no one knew how to sweet-talk like Montague--that sounded as if they could be sincere, if Perry weren't so used to Montague's sarcastic tendencies.

Well, if that part wasn't in earnest, the next certainly was. And rather than being intimidated by this, Perry kept his posture straight, staring back with eyes that became increasingly hotter by subtle degrees. A very wild part of his being said that this was a challenge, and Perry was not one for being bullied. But rationality told him to calm down. This was neither the time nor the place... nor the person.

It was only because this was Montague Morsus, someone who Perry remembered fondly from his youth, that the arrogant prick wasn't already flat on his back.

He merely lifted an eyebrow imploringly. The glint in his eyes was still sharp and forbidding, but calling out a tease: Go ahead. Test me. "And just what are you expecting from me, Montague?" Perry said quietly. "Salazar knows I didn't come here for the purpose of 'disappointing' you."

Oh... this promised to be interesting.

[morsus_et_mors]

"That's good," Montague almost whispered, voice low and intimate, as he kept his gaze on the other male's. It was exhilarating in some strange and intangible way - he could almost feel the tension in the air. Like in good ole times, but more intense, so much more intense and - dangerous. It was what propelled Montague forward in this boring life - the feeling of danger, mortal peril, the challenge, the smirks and the gleaming sharpness of eyes.

Something only his equals could give him.

"Very good, Perry," Montague continued staring at the other male, his gaze detached now, almost expectant of something coming their way. The wry grin that came a few seconds afterwards was a bit scary in its suddeness. And all was back to how it was before. As if there was not a moment of crossed spears, not a moment when the two of them were enemies - somehow, some way, some place in the future or the past, no one cared.

The testing was over and the results were still unclear - but the testing was over. Was it even a test, though? Or just Montague's boredom kicking in, his desire for spicing up everything that surrounded him? Because he couldn't-- he couldn't live without tension around him.

It substituted emotions that he lacked.

"Perry..." Montague made a step back, keeping his gaze locked with the others. "Perry," he continued on his backward motion. "Perry," Montague finished, three steps between the two of them. He smirked.

"Let's get going then - I've got something to show you," he said brightly, not a trace of coldness or sarcasm left. Eyebrows lifting in an almost childish fascination, he pointed toward the near end of the corridor. "And into my study," he said, resuming their walk.

[inner_human]

He was so wired, so ready, waiting for the wrong thing to be said or done that would snap Perry's already weak control, that would allow him to unleash all the energy and rage building up inside him, even at the expense of his friend. And Montague's reply, so strangely quiet, sultry almost, even that caused the hairs on the back of his neck to rise.

But he did not react... not physically, anyway. Montague's reaction was not what he expected and it left him at a loss. He simply watched the man back away, listened to his cryptic approval and the repetition of his name. Montague was saying so much, and yet nothing. What the hell did this mean?

And, for whatever reason, the tense moment was over. Montague was satisfied--or appeared so, anyway. Enough to continue their tour.

Holy hell, he looked... like a boy, again. Like the old Montague. Perry just stared. What was he supposed to say to this?

Perry's eyes quizzed his, struggling to understand where they stood, now. For the moment, at least, it seemed the danger had passed... and there was no need for the aggression Perry now held in his chest. He released it. He wasn't here to quarrel... besides, now his interest was piqued.

"Lovely," he said, grinning only slightly as he followed Montague, falling into step beside him. He said nothing more for the time being, losing himself in his thoughts. He was actually very interested to see where Montague was leading them; to see what this thing was that had changed his expression so drastically from enemy to enthusiastic child.

So, the five years were truly longer than Perry had wanted to acknowledge. It seemed they would have to learn about each other all over again.