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Post by jackson frank carver on Sept 17, 2013 2:32:28 GMT -5
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If he was no longer of teenage boy constitution, Jack Carver would have starved himself the last day of summer. A week ago his mouth had sprung a leak with reality setting in that he would return to the plentiful variety to appear on long wooden tables in the Great Hall. His first night back to Hogwarts, he planned to take a stab at filling that bottomless pit that must have been located just beneath his stomach. He could hardly concentrate through the commotion of first years being sorted and welcomed to their new houses with whooping and hollering. Admittedly, his table usually couldn't hold a candle to the decibels reached at the three others. There were worse things to sacrifice for what they did excel in.
There was no question about who Jack was sitting next to. Anyone in their house, save for the new blood, would be all too familiar with seeing he and George in company of each other. They had been friends since first year and always met up on the train to Hogwarts. They vaguely kept in touch over the months to pass, but neither were much for writing letters. This past summer they had met up a few times, as usual, but George had seemed far more distracted than usual. He could sense something was different, but that was really the case for everyone this past summer. Jack might bring it up some time, but by the time they reached the school they had had hours to talk. Now, it was time to eat.
Jack hardly noticed the gradual quieting of excited voices, losing himself in countless servings until his belt finally felt tight and he slowed in the process of shoveling. "So you think you're actually going to take alchemy this year?" His dad had suggested the boys take it, but Jack knew his peers had a tendency to just be polite to adults... especially if it was their class. "Because you know, I just don't think I have enough exposure to it at home." He added, sarcastically. George was well aware of the hours of focus Henry Carver spent on his work, and if he didn't... he was exceptionally talented at tuning people out. This time, Jack did not go on. Instead he waited for his friend to answer while taking the opportunity to load his second or third dessert onto his plate.
TAGGED: george abernathy | LOCATION: ravenclaw table
DATE: 1 September 1996
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Post by george ryan abernathy on Sept 17, 2013 17:55:59 GMT -5
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George did not want to think about home or what he had left behind to attend his last year at Hogwarts. The thought that this was it was daunting enough. What was going to be expected of him afterwards? Not that he ever lived up to any of his father’s expectations. From the moment he started Hogwarts he was basically a screw up. Being sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin. Being friends with anyone other than a pureblood despite himself being less than pure. The latter was never mentioned to his farther and for that reason Jack never received an invite to stay over for summer break. No, George was going to savor this year and not for the same reasons as Jack. Unlike his counterpart, George only had second helpings to dinner and was working on his first dessert when he gave a slight shrug and shoved a mouthful of cake into his mouth.
For a moment it seemed that was it for his response. Sucking on the side of his thumb where icing had smeared from his cake, “I guess.” His tone was dismissive and indifferent, wiping his hand on his slacks despite there being a perfectly good napkin sitting next to his spoon. He hadn’t really put much thought into it after Mr. Carver had mentioned it. Jack may have had reasons for objecting to take Professor Carver’s class, but he didn’t. It wasn’t his father after all. “Weasel an Outstanding out of it. Finally get some pay off for being friends with you.” His tone remained dry and his expression gave no signs of teasing or joking. “Then again, he may just fail you. Can’t show favoritism to his students.” He took another mouthful of cake.
tagged: jack carver | location: great hall | 1 September 1996 [/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
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Post by jackson frank carver on Sept 17, 2013 20:02:08 GMT -5
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The cream and fruit of the trifle he chose oozed across Jack's plate towards him. He grabbed his spoon instead and pushed it back to carve out a bite. He was not particularly pushy when a person showed indifference to what he said or asked. It was not the case when he knew something was bothering someone, and then he had the uncanny ability to sense how a person was feeling and they needed someone to talk to even if they didn't act like it. But true indifference made him uncomfortable to keep talking about whatever topic he had brought up. Surely it made him look stupid to go on and on, incapable of reading signals.
People who were acquainted with George might assume, then, that they spent a lot of time in silence. He perpetually had an unfazed expression on his face, and generally monotonous tone, but if one could see past his remarks and realize he was joking, he could actually be quite entertaining to be around. Though Jack had never touched on what he sometimes felt was too sensitive of a topic, he assumed that most of his demeanor was a defense mechanism. Don't show too much emotion or you'll get hurt. He could sympathize with that... Jack just fancied himself better at making people believe he was being vulnerable with them. Unlike George, who did not seem all that interested in getting people to open up to him, Jack was far easier to engage upon meeting.
In spite of George's lacking indication, Jack laughed and shot back, "Then you better hope he doesn't grade on a curve; they'll kick you out of school, your mark will be so low. Poor George, seven years wasted." He teased him, "The Sorting Hat will have to take early retirement before bringing shame on the whole school for letting you into Ravenclaw." He grinned widely as he goaded, "In fact, I wouldn't be surprised, I think I saw a couple of the new students tripping over their own laces. Now they can only hope to be as pretty as you."
TAGGED: george abernathy | LOCATION: ravenclaw table
DATE: 1 September 1996
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Post by george ryan abernathy on Sept 26, 2013 0:10:27 GMT -5
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Typically, George would be working on his second or third helping of dessert, but even now, just after his second bite of cake he set his fork down. Looking ahead at merely the center of the table, Jack's comment seemed to have gone ignored. It hadn't. George heard his friend just fine, but his mind slipped away for a brief second. To what? To be honest, he wasn't really thinking about anything. If a picture could be drawn for visual it'd be a murky black canvas. A darkness that drew a person into it's depth and consumed them into nothing. It was more of a feeling than a thought and for a few seconds, George found himself there. He had not made any effort to put himself there, but it just happened on occasion... mostly during lectures.
What may have felt like seconds was actually only a fraction of a second. George lifted his gaze towards Jack. His expression straight as his mind played catch up and was finally interpreting the words he had collected while he was out of it. His lip tightened and one corner pulled up a little into what may have been a smirk.
All that he decided to gather from his friend's joke was the last bit. "Aww, you think I'm pretty?" Brow lifting a little, "You just be sure you stay on your bed tonight." That wasn't the end of it. George briefly looked away and then back, giving Jack a wink. It was a joke, but he made no extra indications to imply that. A fellow Ravenclaw across the way saw, but George ignored her queer look. Truth be told, George was aware of how he could be perceived, but more than half the time he couldn't be bothered to be or act differently.
tagged: jack carver | location: great hall | 1 September 1996 [/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center] |
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