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Week of April 13-19, 1987Easter Holiday: On CampusGryffindor vs. Hufflepuff:March 15
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WeatherFull sunSnow 5 feet deep and melting slowlyHighs: Mid 60s FLows: High 40s Sunrise: 5:54 a.m. Sunset: 8:39 p.m.
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DADA NEWT Level Friday, 2/20; 12:45-1:45 PM OWL Level Friday, 2/20; 10:30-1:30 PM ASTRONOMY 1st & 2nd Years Thursday, 2/19; 11:59 PM toFriday, 2/20; 1:30 AM
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Member Since: 03/10/09
May 25 12 9:46 AM
Melody ClaytonFourth Year GryffindorGryffindor ChaserTweedledee
Nigel Wright Gryffindor - 1984 Gypsy and Deviant Forever at a PriceMinor Earth, Major Sky
“Yes, I brought them.”
Nigel looked over to make sure she was following his instructions. “Er… I said ‘put them on’, not fondle them…” He rolled his eyes. Honestly. Will was into weird things, apparently. Gauntlets. “Come on, come on,” he urged her. “We haven’t got all day.” He was paying these kids by the hour, and he would prefer not to waste any time.
“She’s the brain worm queen, and she’s infested Nat. Pathetic boy that he is.”
Well, that was true. Not the brain worm part, as Nigel was still sort of iffy on that whole theory of hers. Every time she tried to explain it, he sort of just tuned out. It was the pathetic part that he agreed with, though. He had been telling Nat for years that Caitlin was not worth the effort, but did he ever listen? Nooooooooo. No one listened to Nigel ever, including Will, who had still not put on her damn gauntlets. He was about to reach over and do it for her, when Nat’s cutting voice interrupted them. Speak of the devil.
He was rather surprised to see Nat, though, as he had seriously thought he’d be off doing something else with someone else. Nat seemed to feel the need to have many friends and actually do stuff with them. This was something Nigel would never understand. He had two friends, and that was all he needed. See, if one was busy, he always had a backup. If, perchance, both were busy, he was not so desperate that he could not spend a little while by himself. In fact, sometimes he preferred it.
“There is a word for Caitlin,” he answered. He didn’t say what that word was, but he was pretty sure it was known to them all, anyway.
The longer Nat stood there with them, the more pleased Nigel was that he had shown up for this little lesson. Will was such a girl sometimes. He knew Nat would be more game for shooting little kids. “Of course, I know what I’m doing,” Nigel snapped, slightly irritated. “Your job is not to interrupt me and expostulate about morality and whatnot. Your job is to watch. Watch!” he instructed her, nodding at the little Hufflepuff out there by the tree. Once again, he pulled back the bow, assuming the archer’s stance…. Only to be interrupted again. This was the last time he offered to teach her anything.
“You can’t shoot at...at kids! And I think, Merlin, Nigel I think that one might be a relative of my fathers.”
“Reeeeeeeeeeallllllly…” There was a positively gleeful gleam in Nigel’s eyes. He had only heard a smattering of Will’s father story, having cajoled out snatches of it when she was vulnerable and had let her guard down… He was not above taking advantage of her vulnerable state. Anyhow, he had gathered enough to know that the man was not going to be winning any Father of the Year awards. He would greatly enjoy shooting her little cousin. “Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “I’ll knock the pure blood right out of her.” Not really, as they were blunted arrows. She wouldn’t lose any blood at all, pure or otherwise.
He shook Will off again (“Don’t be touching my arrows while I’m trying to shoot… that’s a good way to lose a chunk of skin!”) and eyed the target on the back of Hufflepuff Lowe as Nat and Will argued about the merits of firstie shooting. Raising the point a smidgen and nudging it a teeny bit to the left, he loosed his first blue arrow. It hit her target just outside the center circle. Too far left. Hmm. He must have overcompensated for the slight breeze. The blue pigment sprayed all over Lowe’s white school blouse and knocked her forward onto her knees. She was fine, though; she got right up and dusted herself off, and she was giggling, for crying out loud. Hufflepuffs. Nigel made a mental note to shoot her a few more times before they were done. In the same place. That cheerfulness was damned hard to get out. He’d have to be persistent.
“See? She’s fine. Allen!” he called to his group of waiting firsties. “Hop to! Take Lowe’s place. And don’t move. You are a target, and targets don’t move.” He was a Slytherin, and he looked somewhat twitchy, so Nigel figured he might try to evade the arrows. Turning back to Will, he continued, “You were watching, right? So do exactly what I did.” He waited expectantly, adding only, “but opposite handed. Ready? Go.”
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