Excerpt From "Breakfast and Bedlam"
For danaeaphreal
Title: Breakfast and Bedlam
Rating: Unknown as of yet
Disclaimer: Um... the world of Harry Potter don't belong to me. Nor is any of this written for profit. Michael and Miles are borrowed characters from my dears. Celeste Knight, however, belongs to me and me alone and though I doubt anyone would, she's not up for borrowing without permission!
Summary/Explanation: A long time ago me and my friends were RP dorks-- oh wait, still are. Anyway sometimes I write fanfiction about it. This one is a spin-off from a Harry Potter game that we sort of used to play.
Breakfast and Bedlam
A Tale from Hogwarts by A. Anderson
“He’s gay.”
A soft puff of steam floated over the delicate teacup balanced in the equally delicate and milk-pale fingers of Celeste Knight. The puff of steam, produced by a cynical snort, was the only indication that the girl had reacted to the abrupt statement from her breakfast companion.
“He is,” insisted the slender boy seated across from her.
“Well if you’re using that arse-slapping ritual that the entire Gryffinbore Quidditch team indulges in each time they score a point, then you might have a very thin case for bisexuality at the very most. But really, Michael, is this what you think makes for stimulating breakfast conversation?”
“You aren’t fooling anyone, Knight. As much as you pretend to hate him, you like the attention.”
“I like the fact that he buys me presents and doesn’t go crying off to the professors over the occasional pranking. And he’s good for a laugh every so often. But I could do without the constant presence of that odious ginger. So if he is, as you claim, homosexual, I invite you to pursue him at will and divert his most unwelcome attentions.” Celeste set the teacup down with a firm clink to indicate her resolve, but her green eyes didn’t quite meet Michael’s ice-blue gaze as she declared this.
Her mouth twitched slightly as she saw Parker stuffing his gorge with pumpkin pasties. Early mornings were never enjoyable for someone who spent their nights plotting mischief and concocting potions. The sight of her fellow Slytherin slobbering over the groaning tables of Hogwarts did nothing to lighten her groggy, rather dreary mood. She reassured herself that it was this fatal combination of factors that had caused the stomach flop and not Michael Elliot’s busy-bodied insistence that Miles Barker was a fancy boy.
Michael propped his chin thoughtfully on one hand while inspecting the crisp cuff of his shirt. “You’ve tossed me out into the tumultuous ocean of hormonal teen angst already, Knight? That’s cold, even for you.”
Celeste flushed and tossed her black hair, “I am not ‘tossing’ you anywhere. I simply remarked that since you display a rather marked interest in where Barker has been warming his broomstick at night that you should feel free to act on this yet unproven piece of information.”
“But what if I don’t want to act? What if I’m occupied with other… pursuits?” Michael leaned in so that the warmth of his breath could tickle her ear.
The pale girl reacted instantly, jumping off the bench and fluttering her hands around her fast, “Oh Merlin’s nutsack, Elliot! That tickles!” She swept her school books into the trim leather satchel emblazoned with the Slytherin Crest and turned towards the doors with a sweep of her robes.
“And I thought we weren’t mentioning that incident,” she hissed softly, before she quickstepped out of the Great Hall to her Potions class.
“Nimue’s tits, Elliot, what’d you say to Knight that made her skitter off? I’ll give you ten Galleons for the secret to making her blush like that.”
“You don’t even have ten Knuts to rub together, Barker, and as for what I said to her, it concerned you.” Michael didn’t bother to look up and confirm the identification of the speaker. Sitting squarely on the sturdy hips of the boy who stood before him was a massive belt buckle in the shape of a rooster that was Charmed to chirp such witty phrases as ‘it’s a big’un’ and ‘wanna go for a spin?’ And if this was not enough, the entire accessory was a riot of Gryffindor red-and-gold.
“Oh yeah? Was she thinking about me or summat?” Miles shoved himself into the seat across from Michael, cheerfully ignoring the narrow-eyed glances from several Slytherins.
“She was responding to a rumor. Evidently there’s been some talk of you being overly fond of the company of men.”
Miles snorted, “That’s ridiculous. Anyone with half a brain can see that I’m all about the ladies. Did you see that Lancaster girl last week? Turns out that Ravenclaws aren’t uptight prudes at all-especially if they’re trying to let off steam after the N.E.W.T.s!”
“Well lovesick young girls rarely have even half a brain to call their own,” Michael snapped in response, “And while she might tolerate your indulgences with the occasional blonde twit, I am certain that she would be genuinely upset if you start Bludgering for the other team!"
"And why is that?" Miles asked, his red eyebrows arching in genuine confusion.
"Because it means that you're either a total slut or that you're in like enough with the boy in question to ignore your usual preferences."
Title: Breakfast and Bedlam
Rating: Unknown as of yet
Disclaimer: Um... the world of Harry Potter don't belong to me. Nor is any of this written for profit. Michael and Miles are borrowed characters from my dears. Celeste Knight, however, belongs to me and me alone and though I doubt anyone would, she's not up for borrowing without permission!
Summary/Explanation: A long time ago me and my friends were RP dorks-- oh wait, still are. Anyway sometimes I write fanfiction about it. This one is a spin-off from a Harry Potter game that we sort of used to play.
Breakfast and Bedlam
A Tale from Hogwarts by A. Anderson
“He’s gay.”
A soft puff of steam floated over the delicate teacup balanced in the equally delicate and milk-pale fingers of Celeste Knight. The puff of steam, produced by a cynical snort, was the only indication that the girl had reacted to the abrupt statement from her breakfast companion.
“He is,” insisted the slender boy seated across from her.
“Well if you’re using that arse-slapping ritual that the entire Gryffinbore Quidditch team indulges in each time they score a point, then you might have a very thin case for bisexuality at the very most. But really, Michael, is this what you think makes for stimulating breakfast conversation?”
“You aren’t fooling anyone, Knight. As much as you pretend to hate him, you like the attention.”
“I like the fact that he buys me presents and doesn’t go crying off to the professors over the occasional pranking. And he’s good for a laugh every so often. But I could do without the constant presence of that odious ginger. So if he is, as you claim, homosexual, I invite you to pursue him at will and divert his most unwelcome attentions.” Celeste set the teacup down with a firm clink to indicate her resolve, but her green eyes didn’t quite meet Michael’s ice-blue gaze as she declared this.
Her mouth twitched slightly as she saw Parker stuffing his gorge with pumpkin pasties. Early mornings were never enjoyable for someone who spent their nights plotting mischief and concocting potions. The sight of her fellow Slytherin slobbering over the groaning tables of Hogwarts did nothing to lighten her groggy, rather dreary mood. She reassured herself that it was this fatal combination of factors that had caused the stomach flop and not Michael Elliot’s busy-bodied insistence that Miles Barker was a fancy boy.
Michael propped his chin thoughtfully on one hand while inspecting the crisp cuff of his shirt. “You’ve tossed me out into the tumultuous ocean of hormonal teen angst already, Knight? That’s cold, even for you.”
Celeste flushed and tossed her black hair, “I am not ‘tossing’ you anywhere. I simply remarked that since you display a rather marked interest in where Barker has been warming his broomstick at night that you should feel free to act on this yet unproven piece of information.”
“But what if I don’t want to act? What if I’m occupied with other… pursuits?” Michael leaned in so that the warmth of his breath could tickle her ear.
The pale girl reacted instantly, jumping off the bench and fluttering her hands around her fast, “Oh Merlin’s nutsack, Elliot! That tickles!” She swept her school books into the trim leather satchel emblazoned with the Slytherin Crest and turned towards the doors with a sweep of her robes.
“And I thought we weren’t mentioning that incident,” she hissed softly, before she quickstepped out of the Great Hall to her Potions class.
“Nimue’s tits, Elliot, what’d you say to Knight that made her skitter off? I’ll give you ten Galleons for the secret to making her blush like that.”
“You don’t even have ten Knuts to rub together, Barker, and as for what I said to her, it concerned you.” Michael didn’t bother to look up and confirm the identification of the speaker. Sitting squarely on the sturdy hips of the boy who stood before him was a massive belt buckle in the shape of a rooster that was Charmed to chirp such witty phrases as ‘it’s a big’un’ and ‘wanna go for a spin?’ And if this was not enough, the entire accessory was a riot of Gryffindor red-and-gold.
“Oh yeah? Was she thinking about me or summat?” Miles shoved himself into the seat across from Michael, cheerfully ignoring the narrow-eyed glances from several Slytherins.
“She was responding to a rumor. Evidently there’s been some talk of you being overly fond of the company of men.”
Miles snorted, “That’s ridiculous. Anyone with half a brain can see that I’m all about the ladies. Did you see that Lancaster girl last week? Turns out that Ravenclaws aren’t uptight prudes at all-especially if they’re trying to let off steam after the N.E.W.T.s!”
“Well lovesick young girls rarely have even half a brain to call their own,” Michael snapped in response, “And while she might tolerate your indulgences with the occasional blonde twit, I am certain that she would be genuinely upset if you start Bludgering for the other team!"
"And why is that?" Miles asked, his red eyebrows arching in genuine confusion.
"Because it means that you're either a total slut or that you're in like enough with the boy in question to ignore your usual preferences."