A Fashion Statement in Sockage
((Three, count 'em, three characters to sock. Hoo-ah! Dated to just shortly after the secrets board, specifically this.))
Charles was in a brown study, hands deep in the pockets of his khakis as he slouched through the Hogwarts corridors. Whatever it takes, he’d promised Camilla. Anything to make things the way they used to be. No, better than. Question was, what was it going to take?
He rolled his shoulders under his white button-down shirt. No, the question really was, how do you get rid of someone in a place you can’t kill them, and furthermore not be blamed? He scratched his chin absently, looking ahead for Slytherin, gray eyes distant as he studied the entrance.
He had the answer. At least Charles thought he did, distasteful as it was going to be.
Bunny.
Ugh. Charles winced to himself. Well, he’d promised, hadn’t he? Whatever it took. And Henry had to go, that much was certain. And Bunny already had a motive more pressing than Charles’, or thought he did, which amounted to much the same thing. But this wouldn’t be easy, not by a long haul. If only he hadn’t had to give up alcohol as well: a stiff drink right about now would be extraordinarily welcome. But probably self-defeating, and this was too important.
The entrance to the Common Room was propped open; Charles took a fortifying breath and shouldered his way in.
That was easy. Bunny stood in dead-center of the room - ironic, that - with… Charles’ eyes widened fractionally. Good Lord, the man was huge. And mostly naked, and wearing what was easily the largest, most lethal-looking sword Charles had ever seen. Or thought about, frankly. Goddamnit, thought Charles, Bunny had reinforcements.
But before he could organize his thoughts enough to escape prior to bloody decapitation which might not kill him but would surely be damned uncomfortable, Charles was arrested by the sound of Bunny’s voice. “Well, well. Chas, old trout.” And to the huge warrior-man: “One of the ones I told you about, Mathayus.” His voice got louder. “Meet my friend Mathayus, Chas. He works for me now.”
Mathayus nodded slowly, dark eyes assessing Charles coldly. “Doesn’t look like much. Anyway, he can’t kill you here. And if he tries,” this last was said to Bunny but was clearly addressed to Charles, “he’ll have to go through me.” He folded his massive arms across his chest, the blade at his waist glinting wickedly in the light.
Oh Lord, this was verging on farcical. Charles rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake, Bunny, I don’t want to kill you. I didn’t want to the last time, frankly.”
“You’d kill me if you could,” Bunny protested, his voice a bit strident. “We both know it.”
“No I wouldn’t. Jesus Christ, Bunny.”
Charles had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling as he watched Bunny visibly deflate. He noted with interest that Mathayus’ lips were twitching, and his estimation of the large man rose a fraction. “Well,” said the warrior, “looks like you have some things to discuss. I’ll leave you to it. Send up a flare if you need me.”
Bunny nodded, watching Mathayus leave, his glasses reflecting the light enough to make his expression unreadable. “I’ve only got to raise my wand and he’ll be back,” he said by way of warning, his voice a bit petulant. “What the hell do you want?”
Charles shifted, leaning against the wall. “Killing you turned my entire life to shit, Bun. I’m here,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them open in a classic gesture of innocence, “to turn it back if I can.”
Bunny sneered and said a very dirty word. “You want forgiveness?”
Charles shook his head, slowly. “No. I want Henry gone.”
Charles was in a brown study, hands deep in the pockets of his khakis as he slouched through the Hogwarts corridors. Whatever it takes, he’d promised Camilla. Anything to make things the way they used to be. No, better than. Question was, what was it going to take?
He rolled his shoulders under his white button-down shirt. No, the question really was, how do you get rid of someone in a place you can’t kill them, and furthermore not be blamed? He scratched his chin absently, looking ahead for Slytherin, gray eyes distant as he studied the entrance.
He had the answer. At least Charles thought he did, distasteful as it was going to be.
Bunny.
Ugh. Charles winced to himself. Well, he’d promised, hadn’t he? Whatever it took. And Henry had to go, that much was certain. And Bunny already had a motive more pressing than Charles’, or thought he did, which amounted to much the same thing. But this wouldn’t be easy, not by a long haul. If only he hadn’t had to give up alcohol as well: a stiff drink right about now would be extraordinarily welcome. But probably self-defeating, and this was too important.
The entrance to the Common Room was propped open; Charles took a fortifying breath and shouldered his way in.
That was easy. Bunny stood in dead-center of the room - ironic, that - with… Charles’ eyes widened fractionally. Good Lord, the man was huge. And mostly naked, and wearing what was easily the largest, most lethal-looking sword Charles had ever seen. Or thought about, frankly. Goddamnit, thought Charles, Bunny had reinforcements.
But before he could organize his thoughts enough to escape prior to bloody decapitation which might not kill him but would surely be damned uncomfortable, Charles was arrested by the sound of Bunny’s voice. “Well, well. Chas, old trout.” And to the huge warrior-man: “One of the ones I told you about, Mathayus.” His voice got louder. “Meet my friend Mathayus, Chas. He works for me now.”
Mathayus nodded slowly, dark eyes assessing Charles coldly. “Doesn’t look like much. Anyway, he can’t kill you here. And if he tries,” this last was said to Bunny but was clearly addressed to Charles, “he’ll have to go through me.” He folded his massive arms across his chest, the blade at his waist glinting wickedly in the light.
Oh Lord, this was verging on farcical. Charles rolled his eyes. “For God’s sake, Bunny, I don’t want to kill you. I didn’t want to the last time, frankly.”
“You’d kill me if you could,” Bunny protested, his voice a bit strident. “We both know it.”
“No I wouldn’t. Jesus Christ, Bunny.”
Charles had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling as he watched Bunny visibly deflate. He noted with interest that Mathayus’ lips were twitching, and his estimation of the large man rose a fraction. “Well,” said the warrior, “looks like you have some things to discuss. I’ll leave you to it. Send up a flare if you need me.”
Bunny nodded, watching Mathayus leave, his glasses reflecting the light enough to make his expression unreadable. “I’ve only got to raise my wand and he’ll be back,” he said by way of warning, his voice a bit petulant. “What the hell do you want?”
Charles shifted, leaning against the wall. “Killing you turned my entire life to shit, Bun. I’m here,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and holding them open in a classic gesture of innocence, “to turn it back if I can.”
Bunny sneered and said a very dirty word. “You want forgiveness?”
Charles shook his head, slowly. “No. I want Henry gone.”