Becoming Brothers Requested Scene: Parseltongue
Mom ended up in the emergency room this weekend and is supposed to be home tomorrow. Between helping Dad keep the house running, spending time at the hospital with her, and moving back in, I haven't really been up for personal writing. (Haven't forgotten! Honest!) Hopefully we’ll be back on track here soon.
This is another request response, for
lilyoftheval5.
Parseltongue
“They arguing again?” Avery asked, picking at the label on his Butterbeer bottle.
Lestrange nodded, tilting his chair back on two legs, something that would have earned him a swift reprimand had he been at home. “Sounds like it.”
“Don’t see that it was such a big deal.”
Nott shrugged, shuffling the deck. “It sounded like an ongoing disagreement to me.” Too bad the interruption had come between hands; if it hadn’t, they could have passed the time trying to get a peek at each others cards.
Someone shouted on the other side of the closed kitchen door. All three Slytherin boys paused to listen, but the voices went back to low, furious hissing before they could make sense of what was being said.
Avery went back to his Butterbeer. “Do you think they argue like this all the time?”
Lestrange shook his head. “Not in public, at least.”
Nott shuffled, spread the cards, gathered them, shuffled again. Lestrange let his chair fall back to all four legs. “Anybody catch what they were arguing about?”
“Harry’s health, I think. Apparently Tom thinks he’s working too hard.”
“Are we sure there’s no mother in this house?” Lestrange chortled.
“Make that insinuation to Tom’s face and see if you’re still laughing.”
Avery had a contemplative look on his face. That never boded well. “You think he’s really Slytherin’s heir?”
“This isn’t exactly the best place for this discussion, Avery,” Nott said, gesturing around the Potter’s front room.
“Do you?” Avery demanded, not one to be dissuaded.
“If he is, wouldn’t his brother be as well?” Lestrange added, studying the ceiling.
Nott paused his shuffling long enough to fix the other two with a stern eye. “Either way, he’s got no concrete evidence. Or if he does, he’s not showing it.”
Neither of them had anything constructive to say to that. It took all three of them a moment to realize that the ensuing silence was quieter than it should have been.
Lestrange’s brow furrowed. “Is that hissing?”
The door slammed open and Harry stormed out, his face flushed with anger, Tom hot on his heels and looking as openly frustrated as they’d ever seen him. Their body language said they should have been screaming at each other, but the noises coming out of their mouths were nothing like English. Long, syllabent and low, with no distinguishable breaks, it sounded like nothing more than discordant hissing.
Three jaws hit three chests as Tom’s guests realized in unison what exactly they were hearing.
Harry stalked straight past them, snatching up one of the brooms resting in the corner and heading purposefully towards the door. Tom followed him outside, both of them hissing the whole way. The door slammed.
Nott cleared his throat, opened his mouth, shut it again.
Avery was the first to get his brain reconnected with his mouth. “Should we say anything?”
Nott and Lestrange shared a long look, both reaching the same conclusion. “No,” they chorused. “Not yet,” Nott amended, shuffling the cards and beginning to deal a new hand.
Revelations like this one didn’t come every day, after all.