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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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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Unfortunately for Noah, Charlie did join the others on the age issue. He was the poofy romantic in the group, after all, which led him to firmly believe that age was of no importance. He highly doubted anyone would make Noah a sex-slave anytime soon, and if it WERE to happen, he’d merely laugh.
Charlie was terrible, yes, but really, how could one not laugh at the idea of being a sex-slave?
‘To the summit!” he cheered loudly, sloshing around his half-empty pint. “To Quidditch! To Butterbeer!”
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Ah, well Merlin was also a romantic at heart. He'd have one lass and one lass alone! Unfortunately, he had to agree with Noah that he'd rather not have said lass be twice his age. Sex-slave... har, a fate of a Flanagan bloke no doubt. He'd have to be careful.
"An' t'think I'm only a sixth! Ye should have an advantage o'er me, boyos! Best start turnin' up yer charm!" Merlin said with a laugh, clinking his glass against Troy's, and then the others as they cheered about... god only knows.
He'd try to refrain from singing.
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Well, perhaps it wasn't so far from the usual theme; sports clothes. Hrmm.
"Don't get cocky, Flanagan," Troy smickered, nodding and calling out "Cheers!" as he clinked his glass on everyone else's, only to take a huge gulp afterwards.
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More original things to toast to? Merlin, since when was there a originality requirement for bloody toasts? Troy was getting to be a picky sort, and Thatcher would instantly put a finger on the 'It's Lolita's picky influence' accusation. Clearing his throat, Thatcher's butterbeer rose again as he added, "And to bampots." Girl-related, which was absolutely Thatcher. Who could have expected less, eh?
With that, and a nod, he took a gulp of his as well.
If only it were whisky.. damn, did the lot of them need to turn of age.
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"Means she won't be interested in what you have to offer, mate. All mouth and no trousers, you are!" Noah told Thatcher with a grin, pointing at Troy with his pinky to remind the bloke of when he'd used the same phrase before.
"Well I know Merlin here has himself a girl of sorts, what about the rest of you gits? Always picking on poor Noah for his bashfulness, where are your birds, hmmn?" Noah asked once the toasting was finished, folding his arms over his stomach as he leaned back slightly in his chair.
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And the bollocks went on forever, it seemed. With all of this toasting, he’d need a new glass very shortly. Charlie could hold his Butterbeer, however, even though the alcohol content was… next to nothing. He was a man! He could handle Firewhiskey, too! He’d spent many parties curled up under the dining table with a bottle when he was younger, trying to build up a tolerance to it. With mates like his? Charlie was very thankful he’d done that, as he’d probably be appointed the one to stay sober in the future.
“MY bird is coming in about… two hours!” Charlie proclaimed proudly after checking his watch. “Then I’ll have to bid you poor, lonely sods adieu. I love you all, you know that, but, oy, the bird wins.” He’d not be telling them the name of said bird, either! Charlie was incredibly pleased with his new relationship with Hanna, and again, he wanted to make the announcement BIG. Or, er, drive them crazy and make them guess.
….If they cared that much, which he seriously doubted.
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Merlin Flanagan wouldn't mind toasting to love, but near death? Eh, he'd not had any of those experiences in his lifetime. Not that he'd know of what the afternoon had in store for him, he wasn't a bloody seer.
"Cocky? Nooo, jus' bein' honest," Merlin told Troy with a wink, tilting his head to the side with curiosity as Charlie actually mentioned a bird.
"Ye've got yerself a date, boyo? An' why weren't any o'us informed, then? Here we were thinkin' ye might jus' steal Rosmerta away from poor Ogilvy!" Merlin exclaimed, punching Charlie lightly in the arm.
Unless the bloke was lying for the hell of it. In which case Merlin rolled his eyes, thank you very much.
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Just for silliness, Troy stuck his own pinky out at Noah and took a big swig of butterbeer, tilting his head to the side and waggling his eyebrows for effect. "EH? EHHHH?!" he laughed out loud, nodding and feeling quite cool at his hidden, odd joke of his roommate's and his. "Noah, I'd allow you to comment if you EVER had a bird. BUT you haven't. That's why we pick on you."
At hearing that Charlie Kerrigan had a bird now, Troy slammed his mug on the table quickly, a bit of the drink sloshing out onto the surface. "And you DIDN'T tell ME?!" His eyes boggled a bit. "I've a right mind to kick you OUT of the Summit, you sodding GIT!" he exclaimed with a smile on your face.
Though not telling your best mate about a bird?!
Not on.
Ah well. Troy would overlook it. For the sake of. . .butterbeer. And tracky bottoms. And. . .bampots.
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