One-shot: Bunny and Charles and Mathayus, oh my
Part two of two. Comes after this.
Charles entered the darkened room, a slight, bright, contradictory shadow in Slytherin’s halls. “This is a bad idea, Bun.”
Bunny smiled again and got to his feet. “You got my owl, then?”
“You’ve lost your mind, sending it in broad daylight like that. Anyone could have seen.”
Bunny made a business of lighting a cigarette, taking a long, luxurious drag. “And by anybody you mean Milly.”
Charles’ hands fisted reflexively. “Don’t call her that. You haven’t the right.” He huffed out a breath, visibly trying to calm himself. “So what the hell did you want?”
“Mmm.” Bunny lifted his head in a reverse-nod, once, twice. “Got something you might want to see.” He tugged a piece of parchment from his pocket. “Letter to Henry. S’posed to be from Camilla, though I don’t think -”
Charles’ gray eyes narrowed. “You bastard.”
Buny laughed softly. “Easy, Chas.”
“Remember where blackmail landed you the last time, Bun. You can’t stay at Hogwarts forever.”
“Charles.” Bunny made a clicking noise with his tongue. “You threatening me, old trout?”
Something between a sneer and a frown crossed Charles’ handsome face. “Yes. Give me that damned parchment.”
Bunny waved it in front of him, infuriatingly. “This isn’t what’s bothering you, Chas, old man. It’s that Milly might find out, and then who would you f-”
With a roar Charles launched himself at the taller man’s throat. “God damn you to hell!” he snarled, barreling into his old friend, sending them both crashing against the stone wall. Bunny gasped for breath, the air knocked out of him. He bared his teeth and shoved Charles, hard enough to throw him away, but back Charles came, cursing a blue streak. Of the two men he was in better shape; but Bunny was bigger.
Charles backhanded Bunny across the face, drawing blood from nose and lip; Bunny wiped the blood away with his cuff and put his shoulder down, heading for the slighter man as though for a footballer’s dummy. Charles grunted as the larger man hit him midsection; tangled together they demolished the empty wooden bureau that had lately held Henry’s clothes. Charles could feel his ribs give way, but he was in a blind rage, beyond caring. Bunny clasped his hands together and swung for Charles’ jaw, connecting in a hit that made the blond man see stars.
His glasses long gone, Bunny fumbled in the pocket of this jacket for his wand; Charles registered the movement and froze. Bunny snarled out an incantation and a fizz of sparks came from the end of his wand. Charles managed a laugh through bloody tongue and lips. “That all you got, Bun?” He threw himself at Bunny again, fingers curling around the other man’s throat; then Charles found himself lifted bodily and flung away.
Bunny leaned over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath, his gaze nevertheless triumphant. “I did introduce you to Mathayus, didn’t I, old thing?”
Charles had a glimpse of a huge male body, a face with bared teeth and long black hair; and then a ham-sized fist connected with his head and he knew nothing more.
Bunny straightened his jacket and ran his fingers through his sandy hair, bending to pick up the cigarette that had been burning a hole in the oriental while the two men fought. He crossed to look down at the unconscious Charles. Mathayus stood, looming, arms folded, waiting for instruction.
With a sneer and a sudden gesture Bunny extinguished his cigarette on the unconscious man’s collarbone, eliciting a curse from the assassin, who grapped his wrist. “What the hell?” growled the warrior, grinding Bunny’s wristbones together.
Bunny bit out an epithet. “Let go of me and shut the hell up! I don’t pay you for compassion, Mathayus.”
Mathayus curled his lip and picked Charles up gently. “As of right now,” he muttered, “you don’t pay me for anything at all.” He turned on his leather-clad heel and strode from the room, leaving Bunny open-mouthed and staring.
Charles entered the darkened room, a slight, bright, contradictory shadow in Slytherin’s halls. “This is a bad idea, Bun.”
Bunny smiled again and got to his feet. “You got my owl, then?”
“You’ve lost your mind, sending it in broad daylight like that. Anyone could have seen.”
Bunny made a business of lighting a cigarette, taking a long, luxurious drag. “And by anybody you mean Milly.”
Charles’ hands fisted reflexively. “Don’t call her that. You haven’t the right.” He huffed out a breath, visibly trying to calm himself. “So what the hell did you want?”
“Mmm.” Bunny lifted his head in a reverse-nod, once, twice. “Got something you might want to see.” He tugged a piece of parchment from his pocket. “Letter to Henry. S’posed to be from Camilla, though I don’t think -”
Charles’ gray eyes narrowed. “You bastard.”
Buny laughed softly. “Easy, Chas.”
“Remember where blackmail landed you the last time, Bun. You can’t stay at Hogwarts forever.”
“Charles.” Bunny made a clicking noise with his tongue. “You threatening me, old trout?”
Something between a sneer and a frown crossed Charles’ handsome face. “Yes. Give me that damned parchment.”
Bunny waved it in front of him, infuriatingly. “This isn’t what’s bothering you, Chas, old man. It’s that Milly might find out, and then who would you f-”
With a roar Charles launched himself at the taller man’s throat. “God damn you to hell!” he snarled, barreling into his old friend, sending them both crashing against the stone wall. Bunny gasped for breath, the air knocked out of him. He bared his teeth and shoved Charles, hard enough to throw him away, but back Charles came, cursing a blue streak. Of the two men he was in better shape; but Bunny was bigger.
Charles backhanded Bunny across the face, drawing blood from nose and lip; Bunny wiped the blood away with his cuff and put his shoulder down, heading for the slighter man as though for a footballer’s dummy. Charles grunted as the larger man hit him midsection; tangled together they demolished the empty wooden bureau that had lately held Henry’s clothes. Charles could feel his ribs give way, but he was in a blind rage, beyond caring. Bunny clasped his hands together and swung for Charles’ jaw, connecting in a hit that made the blond man see stars.
His glasses long gone, Bunny fumbled in the pocket of this jacket for his wand; Charles registered the movement and froze. Bunny snarled out an incantation and a fizz of sparks came from the end of his wand. Charles managed a laugh through bloody tongue and lips. “That all you got, Bun?” He threw himself at Bunny again, fingers curling around the other man’s throat; then Charles found himself lifted bodily and flung away.
Bunny leaned over, hands on his knees, gasping for breath, his gaze nevertheless triumphant. “I did introduce you to Mathayus, didn’t I, old thing?”
Charles had a glimpse of a huge male body, a face with bared teeth and long black hair; and then a ham-sized fist connected with his head and he knew nothing more.
Bunny straightened his jacket and ran his fingers through his sandy hair, bending to pick up the cigarette that had been burning a hole in the oriental while the two men fought. He crossed to look down at the unconscious Charles. Mathayus stood, looming, arms folded, waiting for instruction.
With a sneer and a sudden gesture Bunny extinguished his cigarette on the unconscious man’s collarbone, eliciting a curse from the assassin, who grapped his wrist. “What the hell?” growled the warrior, grinding Bunny’s wristbones together.
Bunny bit out an epithet. “Let go of me and shut the hell up! I don’t pay you for compassion, Mathayus.”
Mathayus curled his lip and picked Charles up gently. “As of right now,” he muttered, “you don’t pay me for anything at all.” He turned on his leather-clad heel and strode from the room, leaving Bunny open-mouthed and staring.