Week Name/Date/Time: 'Traitors in the Mist' / Saturday, March 11th, 2006 / 11:50 AM.
Location: The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade
Open To: HOT MEN, DUDE. (Thatcher, Noah, Charlie, and Merlin?)
Currently Involving: Troy
All right. So. There was perhaps one thing better than spending a Hogsmeade weekend with a bird. Even if that meant sitting through the
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As long as he didn't have any barmaids in his lap, he'd be content to sit through the teasing of his mates. Why not? He could retaliate by confusing them, as always happened because he was... good with making confusing comments. Brilliant sense of humour, in his opinion, they were just distracted by their manly urges at every bloody moment.
At least he knew how to handle them. Er... generally speaking.
"Stop me if you've heard this one - two eunuchs meet at the Three Broomsticks..." Noah stated with a grin as he sat down at the table, happy to know he had saved money as well. Ravenclaws really were the smart ones, eh?
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And, naturally, he couldn’t stop smiling about it.
Of course, he hadn’t actually told anyone yes. He wanted to, yes, but… well, he just wanted to wait. Hanna Kensington was a pretty big deal, in his mind, and Charlie wanted to make the announcement er, impressive. Sure, everyone would see them in Hogsmeade the next day, but… oy. He was over-thinking this announcing business.
Men. Manly Men. No girls. Butterbeer. Yes. Focused now.
… he still couldn’t stop grinning.
That, however, could have been for any number of reasons! Charlie was a very grinny sort of bloke, usually, so it wasn’t uncommon to see him smiling like a lunatic. Plus, he had a large back full of candy swinging from his fist, and a still-full pocket of galleons. And, being the lovely Hufflepuff he was, Charlie wouldn’t mind giving some away to his mates who obviously drank too much.
Charlie wouldn’t like any barmaids in his lap, either, just for the record. That would be terribly awkward. Funny, yes, but… terribly awkward. He’d let the others have their fill of barmaid.
“Stop, then,” Charlie said cheerfully as he blew in, plopping into the booth beside Troy. “I mean, not to depress you or anything, Eli, but I’m pretty sure none of us want to hear about Frog’s and your… physical deformations.”
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Hanna Kensington was in Merlin's year. He didn't know much about her, other than she wasn't a dance enthusiast, had two different coloured eyes (which fascinated the HELL out of him), and had snogged Troy Frogley at some point and hurt his chances with Lolita. Seemed an all right girl, but... he was fond of Hufflepuffs. They were the cheery types.
It would be too easy for Merry to get a barmaid in his lap, that's what Merlin would say! Irish charm, it was worth something. But today he was a bit less enthusiastic than usual. At two o'clock he had the entire DA going on a patrol of sorts to... just keep watch over Hogsmeade. Seemed a smart decision after his warning, but... meh, he wasn't sure much would come of it.
"He was clearly talkin' bout Thatch, ye loony. He's jealous o'the lasses tha' flock t'the boyo," Merlin pointed out to Charlie as he entered, dropping into the last available seat with a grin.
He was going to drink and be merry (literally?) with the seventh year blokes. Brilliant.
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He rolled his eyes at Noah as he sat down, only to be followed by Charlie. "Oh yeah?! This coming from a Hufflepuff! Charlie, really, you've GOT to stop following me into the showers to sneak a peak at the. . ."
He stopped as he was interrupted by Merlin, holding a hand out in agreement. "Ay that's a chap, he definitely means Hale here! Terribly jealous, he is, who wouldn't be?!"
Troy grinned at the group and rubbed his hands together, "So, ol' chaps, get the girly conversation going, or do we order a round first?"
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Awkward.
Bleedin' money!! Oh, lack of drinks and spirits no longer! Bless that Troy, bless him. The second Thatcher had found out that his account at Gringotts had been drained, he thought life was over and thought to hock his broom. Surely a Nimbus could get him at least enough for a butterbeer and chocolate frog! But no, worries of pawnage were now over, as Troy's money cup overfloweth and he could get himself a drink.
Bless him. Bless him.
Now, as almost the entire group seemed to be declaring him to be an eunuch, Thatcher glanced up from the money pile, brow rising. Then, as he cleared his throat, he placed a hand on Noah's shoulder and peered over it, as if attempting to inspect his crotch. "...really, I've heard stories about it, Noah, but I hadn't thought that you'd confirm it to be true. So... really, that explains everything, though."
Apparently the afternoon needed to kick off with a bout of genital insults.
Brow furrowing in 'concern' at Noah, Thatcher waved his hand at Troy as he replied (in quite a loud voice, really), "Aye, mate, order a round, I say. And please, make Noah's a double. He could really use it, what with his loss and all, poor bloke."
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And so it began.
"Well, none of you bothered to ask why I had such trouble with birds," Noah stated a moment later, flashing them all a grin. If there was anything he had learned, it was to laugh at himself. Otherwise, he'd never be amused by anything. Much.
"How's it hanging, Hale?" he asked with a raised brow, pointing at Troy to indicate he would take that double. And then, well... he'd pay for it himself. Perhaps when Troy became that famous Quidditch star (or if, more like), then he'd take advantage of the bloke's money.
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“It’s a terrible habit, I know,” Charlie agreed, clapping his hand onto Troy’s shoulder. “I apologize, mate, I thought you’d like the attention.”
“Loony?” he asked Merlin, eyebrows disappearing behind his shaggy blonde hair. “Right, Flanagan, I don’t suppose your father and Thatch over here have something in common?” Giggling and shooting a smile at the younger Gryffindor, Charlie tossed some of his own galleons on the table to help Tory out.
Charlie looked at Noah sadly, shaking his head. Must be terrible, being a eunuch.
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"Aye, a round! An' then we get t'talkin'," Merlin agreed, though he wondered if they were all gathered here to (once again) discuss Lolita Damon. There were only so many ways Merlin could state that he really had no bloody advice for the poor bloke. The bird was a complete mystery.
"Perhaps not, but they should! Me da shouldn' be allowed t'reproduce anymore, ye saw how I turned out!" Merlin told Charlie with a chuckle, tossing some coins on the table, sliding a galleon back into his pocket before it could be seen. Erm... not for use, that one.
Eunuchs. HAR. Well, the day was becoming more interesting by the minute.
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He leaned back a bit to gesture at the barkeep, rather bombastically yelling "BARKEEP. SIX BUTTERBEERS!" and then sitting back. Hey, nobody ever said Troy was subtle. Or refined. "That sixth is for you, Ogilvy. You're gonna' chug that in front of us, you are. Maybe you'll get the buzz from that. THEN, if I do say so myself, we'll go scout you out a bird. God knows you need one. Badly."
Troy smirked at Charlie, swatting him upside the head. "Goldilocks, you have to stop with the same old 'Just so I can casually comment to Lolita' excuse. It's creepy, it is," he joked.
"Merlin, my dear old chap, you talk without butterbeer. Besides, you Irish, takes you a LOT longer to get you snockered."
Did Troy just make up a word? Snockered? It sounded good enough. Troy was rather fond of it, actually.
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Oh, and eunuchs.
At Noah's comment, Thatcher actually had to bring his hand up to cover his mouth as he sputtered with laughter. How's it hanging? Oh, Merlin, Noah actually said a joke. "Write.. write that one down in the history books, mates," he replied, grinning at Noah as he spoke between man-giggles. "I believe this moment to be a once-in-a-lifetime ordeal. Noah's said a joke. Clever one, at that!"
But, at Charlie continuing the joke, Thatcher threw his hands up in the air. "Mate! Mate! I tell you, I've all my manly parts! Really, here, I'll be more than happy to prove this to you and this entire lot here." But, in a saucy whisper, he leaned over the table to add, "Though I think the best witness to my manhood, my.. excessive and grappling manhood if you will, would be Madam Rosemerta herself, but seeing as she's busy at the moment..." With a sigh, he stood up, rolled his shoulders back and brought his hand to his belt.
Well, nothing but a bit of manly-bits showing to start the day out, right?
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Though he understood how that it was best not to say anything about eunuchs, unless he wanted to be accused of being one, and really? He was the only one at the table that was dangerously close to having people actually believe it! Or so it would seem.
"I don't have to be buzzed to get a girl! I've proven my wit," Noah stated casually, though he'd have no problem with chugging a butterbeer. He wasn't that much of a pansy. Today.
Noah laughed at Charlie and Merlin's discussion, only to choke on his own spittle at Thatcher's words. NO HE DID NOT WANT TO SEE THE MANLY PARTS. Bloody hell, they were in public! Even Troy's chest hair was a bit much for this setting.
"Please, you... she's... how old is she?" Noah asked with wide eyes, trying to hide his blushing. How he'd gotten to be thrown in with this lot, he would never rightly know.
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Charlie was very proud he’d resisted the urge to say, “Pull it.” Yes, he had amazing amounts of self control.
“No, really, Eli,” Charlie said instead, unsuccessfully avoiding Troy’s hand. He gave the bloke a look that seemed to dare him to do it again, then turned back to Noah. “Butterbeer WILL help, at least in your case! And oy, what does it matter how old Rosmerta is? She’s Rosmerta!”
But, if Noah decided not to take the pint, Charlie would happily down it in his place.
“And you!” he said, finally getting to Troy. “It was most certainly not to have a nice look at you, its one of the most popular stop on the Quidditch Tour I started when I was eleven. I save the best for last, mate. You’re first on the list.”
Firing a cheeky grin at Tory, Charlie leapt up when the barmaid arrived with the drinks, taking one for himself before sitting back down. He was never any good as toasts, he’d let one of the others do that.
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"Ye've got wit, but 'twould be nice t'have workin' parts as well, wouldn' it?" Merlin joked with Noah, giving a pat to Charlie's shoulder as he mentioned something about butterbeer helping AND Rosmerta's age being inconsequential. Hopefully they could get Ogilvy so knackered he'd forget he knew what 'inconsequential' meant. Troy, on the other hand, might actually grow some brain cells with a drink. HAR.
"CHEERS, BOYOS!" Merlin shouted as he grabbed a glass for himself, lifting it into the air before taking a good swig.
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Troy tossed his head back with a laugh at Charlie, nodding with a serious-ish look on his face. "Oh, right you are, chap. Good on you, then." He took a pint and laughed to Merlin, "Damned Irishman, you are! Psh, you're banned from The Summit, taking all the chicks from us."
He stood up triumphantly, holding the butterbeer in one hand, "Cheers! To the summit. And. . .Quidditch. And. . ." Troy stopped a bit, looking at his friends. "Feel free to pitch in, ladies."
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He brought his hands up in surrender as he nodded to Troy. "You're right. I'm too much for him," he replied with another stern nod as he took his seat. Poor Noah. He always got the brunt of this sort of stuff, but really! He set himself up for it. Grinning, he chimed in his support on the Merry and the Birds subject. "He out-charms the lot of us," he added dryly. "Honestly, Merry, you've got to at least let the rest of us practise our 'game'. Let us think we've a chance with our beautiful siren, then move in on her in dark corners where we dare not look!"
As Troy toasted, Thatcher practically giggled like a little girl (MAN GIGGLE, DAMN IT) as he threw in his own. "To snogging every last woman in this bar before I find the one I'm looking for!" And then, in a murmured voice, "...and to finding her. Period. Merlin."
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Why in bloody hell was even Charlie against him with this Rosmerta thing? OY. Forty or eighteen... it didn't make a difference? Perhaps not to Thatcher, but Noah didn't want to end up like the male sex-slave of a poorly written novel! He might have been fit and attractive, emphasis on might, but that was completely irrelevant to this.... bloody hell, what was this anyway? A summit?
He grabbed a butterbeer and chugged the entire thing before reaching for another glass, all with the same expression. Perhaps Ogilvy was the one to be made fun of now, but he'd get the last laugh when he spread rumours about them all in the Quibbler. Lovely.
"Merlin, you can have all the girls you want... especially if Troy fancies 'em! Just leave me one, for the practise," Noah stated with a small smile.
Noah rolled his eyes at Thatcher, mumbling 'TO QUIDDITCH' and taking a sip of his drink. Summits. Oy.
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