When: Just before Quidditch practise
What: A discussion of Death Eaters, shields, and long blond hair on boys.
Rating: PG - for a musing about inbreeding.
Seamus was so thrilled to be getting back in the air for an actual practice and burning off some of this energy he'd been storing up for the past few days. He thought it may have something to do with not seeing Ginny in a few weeks, or the upcoming discussion over DA strategy with Hermoine and Anthony Goldstein. Whatever it is, he was primed to hit something. As he laced up his shin guards, a familar form fumbled its way into the Quidditch equipment closet. "Ready fer some practice, Mac?"
"Oh," Natalie said, startled, taking a small stumble over a pile of the Keeper's pads, and managing to right herself by grabbing onto a pile of equipment, which she sent crashing to the floor. She shot him a tiny little grin, pushing hair out of her face as she bent to pick it up, "Didn't know anyone was in here yet. Um, yes. Always up for practise," she nodded fervently.
"Great," he replied, coming over to help her pick up the equipment. "Here, let me get that fer ya." He placed the items back onto their respective spots, sure to make sure Natalie didn't get too close into the process and knock everything over again. "Been keepin' yerself busy?"
"Oh yes," she nodded again, sending her plait swishing from side to side, seating herself on the wooden bench, having realised he'd effectively sidelined her to make sure she didn't cause havoc. She might be shy, she might be very, very clumsy, but she -wasn't- stupid. "I play my flute, watch what's going on - this shield business is having an effect, isn't it?" she curled her knees up to her chest, and hugged them, watching him make sure things were in the right place, and allowing herself a tiny smile. Last time, she'd had the impression that he thought she had no idea what happened around her. Truth be told - she didn't, but she knew about this.
"The shield? Oh, aye. It'll be causin' conversation for years, probably because that's how long we'll all be stuck behind it. We'll be an autonomous collective all unto ourselves, marryin' and inter-marryin' fer thousands of years, iff'n we don't kill ourselves off long before that." Seamus tossed her a pair of arm guards. "Here, these should fit ya."
"Thanks," she took them shyly, blushing hotly. "But I don't think I'd mind," she said thoughtfully, slipping them on, and doing them up. "Well, the inter-marrying thing is pretty common anyway, isn't it? Slytherin would be happy," she bit her lip at the attempted witticism, and nibbled on it. "But the shield part - knowing the world can't get in... It's nice, knowing we're safe."
"Safe as we can be, I s'pose. Guess it's safer to only have to worry about one Death Eater, then thirty or forty." He gave her a grin. "And ye're right, the Slytherin's would love that. They're all related as is."
"One Death Eater?" She blinked at him, wide-eyed. "WHAT?!"
Seamus blinked right back. "Bellatrix Lestrange, Mac. She's been stuck in the school with us fer weeks." Did she not pay attention to anything?
"Oh," she said, frowning in bewilderment. She'd been trying to keep up with things, but she'd..managed to ignore the bits that were..distressing, or implied scary killer Death Eaters were inside. Her. School. "How did she get there?" she asked, weakly, looking at him as if he held all the answers. First she'd screwed up about Ireland, which she hadn't seen for months anyway, and now she'd managed to not-realise a..Death Eater was in the school.
"Far as I've heard, and this is just a rumor, but someone let her in through the dungeons, and she got stuck here like the rest of us. I don't think she's killed anyone...yet." He waggled his eyebrows dramatically, fighting off the urge to go "Bum bum bum!"
She shivered. "I don't know how they can kill each other," she said feelingly. "But perhaps..she's not really here at all, and it's all just rumour?" she glanced at him hopefully, strapping on shin guards, before shoving her plait down the neck of her robes, to secure it.
"Well students have been attacked by her, Morag McDonald and Lavender, so if she ain't here now, she at least was. Eitherways, it's probably not a good idea fer anybody t' go wanderin' round by themselves anymore." Seamus tucked his own pony tail down the back of his robes, an angry grimace at the fact it had brown a couple more inches in the past few days.
"You've long hair," she remarked, suddenly, blinking. "And you're blonde. Were you blonde before?" She completely disregarded the 'attacked students' bit - after all, who wanted to think about that? She picked up the gloves on the bench, and passed him his pair - at least, she assumed it was his - before pulling on her own.
Seamus put on the gloves, nodding his thanks to her. "Aye, I've got pretty, long, blonde hair. I took a potion t' try t' grow it out a bit t' cover up me ear, and it didn't quite work as I was hopin'."
"It is pretty," she commented, walking round him. "It looks like those singers. From the sixties. Muggles. Um, the lady birds? Beetles. That was it. They had long, floppy hair, too." It was pretty, she decided, pretty in a distinctly girly way, that didn't go with the distinctly boy-ish features under it. Still - she supposed he knew what he was doing.
"I can't cut it," he said, reading her mind a bit. "I'm not pretty enough t' pull off hair like this, but everytime I try t' do somethin' about it, it grows back." He fought off the urge to run his fingers through it. He found himself doing that more and more often, and enjoying it just a tiny bit.
She shrugged. "If you can't do anything, why worry about it?" she asked, indifferently. "It's certainly different. I don't think there are many boys with long blonde hair. And p'raps you pull it off a different way?" she offered. "You know, it being such a surprise.." Oh dear. She'd put her foot in it again.
He chuckled and shrugged. "It's just suited more fer a pretty girl then an average bloke. More you then me." He needed to remember to borrow some of Parvati's shampoo. The split-ends were killing him. "But ye're right, no sense worryin' about it. It'll go away on its own."
"I don't have long blonde hair," she pointed out unnecessarily. "Why'd you use a spell that made your hair grow, anyway?" she asked, curious, unlocking her broom from its stand.
Pay the girl a compliment and she misses it completely, oh well. "I was tired of people starin' at me ear," he replied, beginning to rub strengthening solution on his broom handle.
"I didn't think there was anything wrong with it," she commented, seating herself once again, her broom across her knees. "I mean, it reminded people of what...he did to you," she shuddered, distastefully. "But why -blond- hair? I mean, there're spells for long hair anyway. I thought if I decided to cut mine, and it all went wrong, then I could grow it again.”
"I got the potion from Parvati Patil, and she got it from the back of 'Teen Witch Weekly.' Me own fault fer not questionin' the source. I thougth it'd just give me a couple inches, not turn it blonde. I ain't lookin' like a Malfoy by choice." And she may have wanted to remind people, but for Seamus the memory of pretty much the only fight he'd ever lost was one better left forgotten.
"Of course not," she said, screwing up her face. "Well, maybe it'll go away again?" she said comfortingly. Personally, she'd've rather liked blonde hair. Instead, she got mouse. Oh well.
"Yep, I'm sure it's only temporary." His broom was prepped and ready, as was Seamus himself. "You ready then?"
She nodded, grinning. "Yep. Race you out there," she yelled, pushing past him with an exubherence that went against all her normal embarassment, and ran, at full pelt, out to the pitch.
Seamus laughed as he bounced against the door frame, then took after Natalie into the crisp fall air. For a moment all was forgotten and they were children again.