who is in control?

Flipping closed her copy of Witch Weekly, Andromeda could feel a pair of eyes staring at her. Deliberately evading them, she picked at the plate of fruit at hand. “You know, most people come to the kitchens to get their nightly fix, and leave, not stare like an idiot.”

He had been, in fact, paying no mind to the girl across the room. There’d been a silence that drifted with him, one he found usual comfort in before the young witch opened her mouth. “I promise you,” Amycus started, eyes not tearing from his leather-bound book, “I would find something much better to stare at.”

“ Nothing like a new silk scarf to ring in the new year. ”

“Perfect muggle you’d make, wouldn’t you?”

What if I like - punched you or something? Out of fear, of course.

“I would not consider that your wisest decision.”

“Alright, poll time. If you’re hungover raise your hand and you’ll get a steaming cup of my Nana’s best hangover cure, results guaranteed.”

“Unlike the mot of you lot I didn’t drink. Go be a bother elsewhere.”

You scared me!

“Tends to happen.”

“Come any closer and I wont hesitate to throw my shoe at your head.” 

“A shoe. How frightening. Is that all you are capable of, Emma?”

“I’ve heard that these things are supposed to be more fun if you interact with others.” Such a thing had yet to prove true for her, most of her conversations seemed stilted and forced, her logic and way of detaching herself from her emotions hindering her ability to empathise or at least feign a connection. This boy, however, was vaguely familiar to her from countless days spent in quiet corners of the library and it was that recognition that had made her speak out, though there was still every chance she’d failed once more. Her eyes fell upon his hands and what lay in them and the question had left her before she had chance to consider it. “What are you reading? It looks familiar to me.”

“Fun is not something I’m particularly skilled at,” he remarked flippantly, “and I’m far from interested.” He had yet to glance up from the words written in a faded inky black, immersed in spilled secrets that continued with the flip of a ripped page. The figure did not make themselves sparse. Amycus tilted his head away from the book he snapped shut. Somehow, he doubted the Ravenclaw had read this particular restricted choice. “That would be my business.”

Ever since being locked in the library, Alice had needed a new place to get some solitude. Being in there just reminded her of the claustrophobia that set in whilst surrounded by a hundred other students, fearing an attack. And even though it was break, and Alice didn’t have any need to study, she figured she may as well get a jump start on the next semester’s reading, if only to escape her crowded common room.

She startled whereas he did not. Not even the seclusion of a corner could keep him safe from Hogwart’s inhabitants. He felt it perfectly clear with a book in hand to have her question answered wordlessly. Even her initial phrase seemed absolutely childish. The book was raised within his grasp, “Very perceptive.”

“Are you really so thick and high-minded?” Remus laughed emptily. Slytherins thought they were the only skilled people in school, which was just plain wrong. Alice, Frank, Lily, James- all of them were incredibly skilled, more-so than many Slytherins.”Do you really think no one but you lot pose a threat? I’d hate to be at the opposing end of many of my friends’ wands.”

Amycus drug the pads of his fingers against his temples. “That isn’t what I meant,” he corrected, “I’m saying they’ll start more than just one war. You think you know a lot about me, but none of you do.” Exceptions to Alecto, of course. “And with the way you’re acting I’d say they’re a far cry from friends as of late.”

With a sigh, Remus leaned against the wall and took a seat on the ground. He wasn’t looking for a fight. “Look- I realize I’m not the best example, seeing as I’ve already been in a fight with Mulciber, but…” That seemed like ages ago. He still wasn’t anywhere near being able to tolerate the guy, but that wasn’t the point. “A lot of my friends are really hurting right now, and they’re blaming Slytherins in general. And I’m worried that they might-” Was he being disloyal, by talking to Amycus about this? “-I honestly don’t know what they’re capable of right now.”

“I don’t care who you get into a fight with,” Amycus relayed, having been known to get into a few fights weekly himself, “as long as it doesn’t involve Alecto.” Blaming the Slytherins, as Remus put it, did not come as a surprise. More than half the lot passed sly grins among one another, and most knew more than they could ever let on. “Then they aren’t that bright. Even you know that’s a good way to get themselves killed. Attacking any one of us-- it isn’t their parents that will be in danger anymore.”

“Then what type do I seem? Probably one most wouldn’t deem worthy of observing by the sounds of things.”

“Secluded, but I can relate. You, however, don’t seem to know much but the library and the Quidditch pitch.”

“I hope you’re not insinuating that I’m not capable of something simply based on my house? Perpetuating stereotypes only encourages narrow-mindedness.”

“Actually, it comes from observation. You don’t seem the sort. Not at all.”

“Well I- No, not at all.”

“Ever snuck out of the Castle at all? A Ravenclaw like you?”

Who’d’ve thought the day would come when Remus could actually identify with Amycus Carrow more than he could his own friends? Maybe it was the fact his best friends had been too busy for him lately, or that recently the rest of them lashed out at Remus more often than they even looked at him properly. “Can I be honest with you for a moment, or are you going back to being a prick?”

Honest. Now that was a rare word. Aside from Alecto, he couldn’t recall a single individual who could match the brutal honesty he often delivered. “Don’t give me a reason to be with your assumptions, and perhaps I won’t.” He couldn’t imagine how their speech could possibly result in something good. “I’ll listen. If it is in fact honesty.”

Of course he wouldn’t care. Amycus was neither a werewolf nor a halfblood. “You really have no clue, do you? A quarter of our year is in mourning and yet you say disgusting shit like that.”

“You don’t know me. Don’t try to.” Oh, yes, the whole bloody school shedding pointless tears over a pointless war that would never end. “No sense in worrying about mourning. If you did, it would never stop.”