stop the tape and rewind // dashiell

[dashiell jameson peakes]

Dashiell had just stopped finicking with the water — which needed to be at the precise temperature where it did not burn his skin, but was hot enough to be a little spicy — when Abraxas had begun speaking. Over both shower-spouts, he'd questioned whether or not he'd actually heard Abraxas talk, as it was quietly heard. His eyes snapped open, water droplets flung from his eyebrows like skiiers off a ramp. Dash's first instinct, as a teenage boy who found topics such as homosexuality or blood-purity to be means for joking around rather than seriousness, was to tease his friend, asking whether or not he'd been ogling him on his way to the shower. Dashiell had no qualms about nakedness. He'd also had the thought that the showers would have been one large, collective room with a bunch of showerheads and a large group of boys all squirming and wet in one small area. He'd been pleasantly surprised to find that while there were a couple small rooms like that, they weren't always used. Dashiell had no qualms about nakedness, but it didn't mean he didn't enjoy his privacy. Thus, he had chosen one of the single showers. They were also much more personalized, and Dashiell hadn't worried about his shower being quick any.

Now, Dashiell realized there was one reason that he did not choose to tease Abraxas. They group of five boys weren't known for being a surly group, and Dash was certain that there was a sort of desperate insecurity in Abraxas's voice. Unseeing, the boy stared forward into the water, breathing in steam, as he thought out a reply. Dashiell wasn't known for his wisdom (he'd sooner turn to Goldstein for this), and there was a moment of silence after Abraxas's words, before he responded. "Well," He started out, unsure of how to proceed on such a subject, "I guess to a lot of people, none of us are normal. I mean, witches and wizards would be strange and terrible to some muggles. It might not be normal, but magic is our normal..."

Feeling that he'd spoke in circles, rather than making the sense that he'd planned, Dashiell took a deep breath. Why had Abraxas chosen to make such a question— especially when he couldn't speak to him, face to face. It wasn't the best of solutions, but Dashiell wasn't one to tell Abraxas that they could just write a letter about this. Blinking furiously, and then closing his eyes completely, his hands gripped at the wall that separated the two showers. Using this wall as an anchor, he flung his upper torso out of his shower, and poked his head into Abraxas's shower. Sure, it was an invasion of the privacy that he'd respected so well, but this was a time in which the breach was acceptable. Head cloaked in a cloud of steam and eyes closed (both to prevent Abraxas from feeling revealed and to prevent water being sprayed into his eyes), Dashiell spoke softly. "What're you trying to say?" He asked, head turned slightly, and having no idea as to where Abraxas was standing, apart from it being somewhere within.

[abraxas scorpius malfoy]

The silence that followed Abraxas' question set his heart beating faster with what was realistically not that long feeling like hours. He breathed a light sigh of relief as he heard his friend begin to speak but knew that his worry was by no means over. While Dash hadn't grabbed his towel and ran for his life, he hadn't yet said anything that particularly provided a solution to his problem. He was sure that if he gave it a little thought, there would be some sort of answer tucked within it but it wasn't immediately obvious what he was trying to put across. Perhaps he hadn't quite understood what it was that he had been trying to put across.

Just moments after what seemed to be an attempt to define normal, or at least say that the definition of normal varied from person to person, Dashiell's head appeared at the side of the shower. Part of Abraxas knew that having brought up such a topic, he needed to see the discussion through because he didn't know if he'd be able to pluck up the same spontaneous bravery to bring it up again. The other part was a nervous wreck and screamed at him to come up with something that he could claim to have said instead. Knowing that Dash would keep the conversation between them and not mention it to anyone else, even those within their group, he ignored his nerves and began to put forward a better explanation to his friend. While he felt it right to turn to face his friend, he couldn't expect him to keep his eyes closed for the whole conversation and so he turned to face the other wall so as to expose the less revealing side of his body. It wouldn't have been fair to throw this topic at Dash and expect him to keep his eyes shut for its duration or else have to look at his... stuff.

"When I first joined the team, I started to notice things about..." Another lump formed in his throat as if to prevent him from saying anything else. He swallowed, took a deep breath and continued. "About boys. Things I wasn't used to noticing that in a strange way I wanted and liked to notice. I thought it would pass over but I've given it a year and it's not going away." Abraxas felt as if he were explaining the case not only to Dashiell but also to himself. It was everything he'd forbidden himself to think about, refusing to accept that it was for this reason he'd been feeling slightly uncomfortable. "It's made me start to think that maybe I'm not... you know... straight anymore." The last word also made him start to ponder. If he wasn't fully interested in girls, which he was certain he had been before joining the team, had that always been the case? Being born as such made him feel more comfortable in that he knew he wouldn't have been able to change anything if he tried but then why hadn't he felt like this before?

[dashiell jameson peakes]

Like a smack in the face, Dashiell turned red. Abraxas certainly didn't mean to make the connection that Dash did, but it was there, nonetheless. When he joined the team... If Brax, his best friend Abraxas Malfoy, had indeed started to notice his sudden interest in boys around the time when he'd joined the Quidditch team, Dash couldn't have helped but to feel a little guilty. There was the chance that if he'd never shared his enthusiasm with Abraxas, his friend wouldn't have been exposed to anything which would have him deviating from his previous hunger for only women. He'd hate to hear that the source for any of Abraxas's inner torture was Dashiell himself.

Almost as if it were his problem, rather than Abraxas's, Dashiell's heart beat quickly in his chest as he listened to Abraxas talk of his forbidden fears. There was no harm in simply looking, was there? It was natural curiosity, Dash was sure, and so long as it didn't progress from a simple peek, there was no harm. It wasn't as if he had thoughts of the Gryffindor team's Keeper before he layed himself to sleep. Still, if Abraxas was saying that he'd made it a habit, a goal of sorts, to notice, to watch, to glance, then the two friends were talking about something far less simple. "I guess it's not going to go away then." There was a mix of two natures in Dash's voice. On the one hand, his tone sounded as if it were absolute, terrible. He might as well have given Abraxas a diagnosis of some terminal illness. On the other hand, it also sounded very matter-of-fact. It could have been that Abraxas was confessing to Dashiell that he'd accidentally eaten Dash's chocolate; in this case, Dash was simply saying that while it wasn't a desirable thing, he wouldn't hold it against Abraxas.

"This isn't an... easy thing, mate." That was the unknowing, overstated comment of the year, hands down. "Does anyone else know? If not, then good. I think that'd probably be for the best. Slytherins would eat you alive." It seemed that the best thing that Dashiell was able to do, was to give Abraxas advice. Mediocre advice, at that. He'd never gone through the same thing, so it wasn't as if the advice was true and tested. It was instead worried about face and untested. Dashiell wasn't about to let Abraxas's inner-questioning disrupt their friendship, but also wasn't aware as to what his friend wanted to hear? There was no cure for homosexuality (despite what certain religions claimed). There was simply experimenting and profiling. If Abraxas was becoming attracted to men, then that was something he'd simply have to get through; there wasn't a manual, and there most certainly was not a way around it. "Whatever happens, you know I'll be there for you, but you cannot expect me to know the right things to say..." Possibly the most intimate thing he'd ever said to another person, the universe seemed to have the need to respond with a dosage of misfortune.

Dashiell's hand slipped on the slippery shower wall, almost as if someone had charmed it to lose its friction. Heart leaping to his throat and gasping a little gasp, he knew what was coming. Almost comic, the sounds of his feet against the flooring were as Dash struggled to regain traction on the separating wall. Why must water be so wet? After practically falling out of the shower, smacking his back on the floor in a squaggly laying position which wasn't flattering in any sense, Dashiell groaned in slight pain, before beginning to get up. His shower was certainly over. He'd be sure to remember: conversations in showers were not encouraged for a reason.

[abraxas scorpius malfoy]

Abraxas didn't blame his friend at all for his dilemma. While he'd made the connection between joining the Quidditch team and his feelings, it had never really occurred to him that Dash had been the one to get him to try out. Of course he'd noticed that Dash had wanted him to try out but he hadn't made a direct link between Dash and his feelings. Even if he had, he couldn't have blamed it on him, not only because he was his best friend but because he would probably have tried out a year or two later of his own accord and would have simply faced the same problem with a little more life experience. It might have made it easier but if it meant that he could understand himself sooner then he was willing to deal with it.

"I guess it's not going to go away then." Exactly what Abraxas didn't want but knew he needed to hear. He'd been hanging on to the chance that it would eventually just disappear and he would no longer have to worry when he looked up while he was changing that he would be staring at someone. It made him look very withdrawn and suspicious when he stared down at the floor for the whole duration of changing out of his Quidditch robes, even if his teammates would probably prefer that he didn't eye them up. Dashiell was by no means thick (although Goldstein was definitely the genius of the bunch) and he had surely clicked the pieces together before Brax spoke the conclusion. He was still hanging on the wall and this made it quite clear to Abraxas that their friendship really wasn't conditional. If this revelation didn't scare him off then he couldn't think of anything that could. It certainly made things feel easier knowing his best friend would always be exactly that, regardless of who he wanted to get in bed with.

"No, you're the only one." Dash probably hadn't meant the Slytherin comment to mean that he thought it was something to tease him about but it made him start to worry about their opposing house. He knew the Slytherin team would take any opportunity to make him play worse and jibing at him about his sexuality would certainly do just that. Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends. He knew there'd be Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that would look at him particularly differently if they were aware and even in Gryffindor. They were far from perfect and probably came just after Slytherin in being confident to the point of unpleasant. And what of his family? He knew they wouldn't tease him about it but he didn't want to really talk to them about it. While Cassie liked to make him feel like a child, or else did so without necessarily meaning to, he felt she would be there for him just as Dashiell had promised to be.

"Thanks. So long as I've got you I'll be okay." He knew now that okay didn't mean straight but rather that he'd be able to accept himself, get on with life and tackle whatever was thrown at him. He could feel a light pressure on his lower eye lid that he recognised as active tear ducts yet he didn't think he was going to cry for being sad. They produced only one tear that mixed almost immediately with the water of the shower but he associated this with knowing Dash would be there beside him each step of the way, just as he always had been. What had worried him about telling Dashiell was that he wouldn't be able to be his friend anymore and though he had his other friends, Abraxas knew he'd be nothing without Dash and people would certainly ask questions as to why the two of them weren't talking when they were usually inseparable.

His eyes widened as he saw Dash slip away in such a fashion that it couldn't have been deliberate. Brax heard him hit the floor and instinctively jumped out of his own shower to see if he was hurt. "Shit, are you alright?" he asked as he did so, looking down long enough only to see where Dashiell was and to check there was no pool of blood before putting a hand over his eyes. Especially considering the conversation they'd just had, in which he'd revealed that he'd been looking at the other players (though he'd done his best to avoid looking at his friend), he didn't want to make Dash uncomfortable, particularly while he was so exposed. Abraxas put out his other arm to help him up if he needed it. It wasn't that he thought Peakes was incapable of standing up for himself, simply that having fallen onto the far from soft floor had probably hurt a little.

[dashiell jameson peakes]

"Well, good. No one else knows. You should be safe then, pal. Just be careful..." The fact that Abraxas might have been... different was foreign for Dashiell. No one he'd known before had been gay, or even remotely close to being gay, and so the idea of it was leaving an mysterious taste on his tongue. It wasn't that he was worried that Abraxas would try to make a move on him or whatever; after all, Abraxas had talked to him this much, Abraxas certainly have told him if he was having those sorts of feelings toward Dash. Abraxas and Dashiell had a relationship that he considered past friends, but he'd never humoured that red thought which crawled its way through his mind now— that the two of them could be more. No, they were simply just friends; to be more than friends would be to risk what they already had. There was no doubt in Dash's mind that Abraxas was too smart to attempt that. He couldn't help but to be curious as to whom it was that Abraxas had meant when he's said that he'd enjoyed looking at one of the boys on the team.

It wasn't that Dashiell wanted Abraxas to be confused or worried about himself, but Dashiell couldn't help but to think that for such a monumental life-chance, Abraxas was taking everything in stride fairly well. If it had been him in Abraxas's shoes, Dash wouldn't have fared so well, psychologically. He'd probably have been a total wreck and paranoid as hell, claiming to be too sick for Quidditch from time to time, and caring about his classes far less than his normal low... even Defense Against the Dark Arts and History of Magic. He didn't doubt that he'd pop through acceptance eventually, but not in the record time he'd seemed to grant Abraxas. His heart suffered some swelling of pride that he could be there for his friend, even in these sort of times. Whatever they were. If there was something Dashiell secretly glorified himself to be sometime in the future, it was that he should be a rock. Of course, he didn't wish to be a rock in a literal sense, but instead he enjoyed the idea of being a strong pillar of support; he never guessed that it'd be Abraxas that would need him, but that just made things better. Whether it be protecting his secret or whipping out protective spells at last minute, he was there like an inmobile pillar of support, should Abraxas need it.

Life was a curious thing, with its intense balancing act. His head was sure to have a sizeable lump on the back of it, and his shoulder blade felt like he'd scratched it against a brick. At first, he'd cursed to himself and clenched his teeth together to avoid making any pained noises. He should have realized that relying on a slippery wall as the only anchor other than his feet to hold his weight was stupid. Another reason that he wasn't Ravenclaw material. Physics and common sense had their way with him again. He'd answered Abraxas from that lying position as he worked at ignoring the throbbing in his head. It wasn't anything serious, but it also was far from being comfortable. With time the pain had died down — it wasn't anything compared to the time he'd broken his hip last year; luckily it was fixed through the infirmary with a series of painful potions — and he was able to take Abraxas's slippery hand and use it as an anchor to pull himself up. He laughed at himself now, rubbing the back of his head. The fact that Abraxas had covered his eyes furthered Dashiell's solid belief that Abraxas had truly wished to maintain their friendship, not forcibly move it into something further. Dash wasn't about to scorn his hand up. Once standing, Dashiell walked back into his shower, and turned the water off. He'd quite had enough time with the showers; what all had happened in there was slightly surreal to him still.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Let's just get out of here." Roughly drying himself off quickly, before slipping on the clothes he'd played in he sat down on a bench. The clothes still smelt faintly, but he was able to withstand one short time of his own sweat hanging about lightly. At least his skin was clean. He waiting for Abraxas, drying his hair by wildly attacking it with the towel he'd used on his body. "Why don't we go back to the common rooms? I think you really have worn me out. I was going to suggest walking around or something, we could talk if you wanted to, but I'm exhausted and want to change..." Boring was not something Dash liked to be, and his vocal tone reflected this too well.

[abraxas scorpius malfoy]

Though Abraxas knew Dashiell had spoken only with his best interests at heart, he couldn't help but feel slightly worried about his whole situation. Whether it was down to his Gryffindor bravery or the strong relationship he had with his friend, though likely a combination of the two, it hadn't seemed as difficult to tell Dash what he had, in a way, known but refused to accept, if not for fear of how his friend would react then because he thought he'd physically have trouble saying it. He'd been at alone at Malfoy Manor for most of a day over the summer while Scorpius was at work and Rose was shopping with Cassie. He had attempted to talk to himself about it but even when he knew he was the only person inside the large house, he just couldn't bring himself to say the word 'gay'. Come to think of it, he hadn't been able to manage that in the recent conversation either. He wasn't quite sure why but he figured it had something to do with the incoherent idea that if he didn't say it then it wouldn't be true.

The fact that Dash had been so accepting of the idea was a much needed encouragement. While not everybody would think so little of the apparent change, or else not keep it so silent, Dashiell was the only person that really mattered. He'd want his family to be fine with it too but if they weren't, he could stay at Hogwarts all year and not have to worry about them until the summer. Even then, he could potentially get a room in the Three Broomsticks. It would break his heart to have to avoid his family in such a fashion but he wouldn't tell them until he was certain of it himself and so when he was in that position, he wouldn't be willing to pretend otherwise, not even for them. If he did become estranged, though he trusted his family wouldn't inflict this upon him, he was sure that one of his friends would help him out. It made him feel slightly arrogant to think that his friends would take him in if he didn't want to be at home but he knew he'd do the same for Dashiell, Maximilian, any of them. While he was closest to his fellow Gryffindor, they all meant the world to him and having one of them absent just wouldn't sit right.

Once he'd checked that Dash was fine, Abraxas returned to his stall to turn off the water, grabbed his towel and wrapped it around himself. The cold was now much more obvious, seeing as he'd just been standing in warm water. "Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I just needed to talk to someone about everything. Only so long you can keep something bottled up before the smallest thing makes you want to explode." Abraxas hoped that if their roles were reversed, he would have been able to be as understanding. While he would never say anything to deliberately upset Dashiell, he didn't know how he'd react to such things. He had never had a problem with people who weren't all that keen on the opposite sex but he was sure he'd probably have been a little uncertain if he were changing with them. The last thing he wanted his friend to feel was that he couldn't do his usual things without having to worry about Brax staring at him. He didn't think of Dash like that and would squash any thoughts of that sort. He was his best friend and another step would ruin that beyond repair.

"No, the common room's fine. We can walk and talk and whatever but if you want to change first then it's fine." Brax could understand Dash wanting to change. He hated wearing the same clothes after a shower as he had beforehand. The clothes he'd walked to the pitch in and was now wearing had also been worn yesterday after lessons but they were clean enough. "I won't bring it up again if you don't want me to. I imagine it's as difficult for you as it is for me and I don't want it to put a strain on our friendship." Though he wouldn't deny the conversation had ever happened, unless there were other people in earshot, he figured it would be best to leave the decision to Dashiell as to if and when they spoke of it again. He didn't really know what else there was to say anyway but he'd be happy to talk about it if Dash wanted to.

[dashiell jameson peakes]

Dashiell finished with whatever business he had left in the locker rooms, mainly putting his stuff back into the locker he'd gotten it from. Whenever he put wet towels into the locker, they were always cleaned and well-folded by the time for the next practice or match. They also smelled wonderfully of sandalwood, his favourite scent for colognes or even incense, though he'd not experimented too much with the latter. He'd never questioned how they were always springing up clean; he had the vague notion that if he wondered too much about it, the magic surrounding the ordeal would break and he'd be stuck cleaning the towel himself. It was probably just bored house elves, anyway, creepy things. The little beasts were always doing work obsessively. Dashiell felt dirty next to them, even though he knew it was racially unfair, as their intent on remaining low in status seemed a weird S and M fetish to him. Ignorance was the key to fear, but he wasn't comfortable getting past that ignorance. He'd sooner mate with a werewolf.

"You don't need to worry about me so much, Brax. It might not be a comfortable topic, but if you feel better now, isn't that all that matters? " There was absolutely no way that Dashiell was going to let Abraxas be sad for the rest of the night; he hated to see people upset, since Dash himself was the type to cover up sadness with fun, and wouldn't stand to let Abraxas feel bad for what'd happened. Dashiell was happy enough to be there for Abraxas, but not if his friend kept trying to make sure he'd not offended him. That wouldn't have been like how Dashiell remembered Abraxas at all. They were to get into hijinks together and be worriless, not constantly worry about other things. "Next time you need to explode, you can do it on me, I would be pleased." Dash smirked wryly at Abraxas, knowing that his words sounded close to an innuendo, and he hoped it would help to lighten his friend's mood, rather than make him feel even more uncomfortable.

After several failed attempts, one of which tried its very best to pretend it had thought Dashiell had called out "Protego!", the well-spirited, bruised Gryffindor student managed to get a summoning charm to gather his individual items from the other side of the pitch, and now carried them in his hands, along with his broomstick. While he had no post-shower interest in flying, he put on his Quidditch gloves, as his rough hands were feeling cold to him in the September winds. Rather giggly in the unfamiliar cold, Dashiell couldn't help but to laugh pointlessly as he saw a student in the distance trip and fall. It was funnier to him, since he'd done something similar in the showers not too long ago.

"Common Rooms, good!" Having a goal destination made walking across large expanses like the Grounds more tolerable. Just behind them stood a large hill which obscured the vision of the Gameskeeper's housing. When Dashiell heard Abraxas say that Dashiell was probably having just as hard a time as himself, a raucous laughter sent the little creatures in the trees aflight. "Oh shut up. I'm here for you, but I'm not having as difficult a time as you are. I'll go through this with you, but I'm not the one going through it, Brax. This is your puzzle to solve. I am moral support. Although I am curious as to why you asked when we were both naked to talk about that. You have curious timing!"

[abraxas scorpius malfoy]

Though his grandmother was rather against the enslavement of house elves, his grandfather had managed to reach a compromise. He was used to having things done for him and it had always been a house-elf during his childhood. As such, the newly married Malfoys agreed that they would have a house-elf in employment at the Manor but not duty-bound to do as they said. That same elf still worked at the house, although rather old, and a second had also been employed. This meant that Abraxas was used to house-elves being around but then the Malfoy elves weren't quite the same as others. Hermione had ensured they even had their own room at the Manor, although much of the furniture was appropriately smaller, and so their elves appeared to be much happier and cleaner than others Brax had come across, such as the Hogwarts elves.

"I suppose?" Abraxas replied, agreeing to an extent that as the particular topic concerned his life, it was him that mattered but he cared too much about Dashiell to let something like this get in the way. Why was he still worrying about losing Dash? There had been plenty of opportunities for him to flee but he hadn't and he was at this very moment reassuring him that it didn't matter. Looking back on their conversation, he could see that it really didn't matter to Dashiell. So yes, Dash might have to remind himself a couple of times that Abraxas had a thing for boys but it didn't seem to bother him at all. He didn't feel any different around the beater now that he'd spoken to him about it and that was certainly good sign. It wasn't like Abraxas to worry constantly, that was reserved for the Hufflepuffs of the school. Brax had told Dash, he was fine with it and so he needn't fret about it anymore.

He couldn't help but laugh as Dashiell found a sexual connotation to what he had said. It was the same sort of thing as telling Ab he needed to stop flirting with him but he now found himself not feeling so nervous about it. After all, it didn't matter if he said something that suggested he wanted a boy in his bed because Dash already knew this. "Whatever floats your boat." He was by no means suggesting that his friend had thing for being ejaculated on but it was the wittiest he could come up with at such short notice. That was providing he hadn't misinterpreted what had been said, considering all the gay thoughts flying around in his head. It hadn't even occurred to him that Dash would have the same interest in males because quite frankly the odds were against him.

A smirk crossed his lips as he saw the student trip over. He didn't find it quite as amusing as Dashiell had, which he blamed on the fact that it may have been a Gryffindor though he was sure he'd have been in fits if he knew it was a Slytherin. "Yeah, probably wasn't the best time to bring it up. I'd offer an explanation but I don't really have one." Abraxas was glad that the conversation hadn't at all affected their friendship, though he felt this thought was repeating itself a lot, and he knew that Dash's positive reaction would make it easier when it came to telling others. The others in their group would probably be next on the list or else Cassandra. For the time being however, it would be kept just between the two of them. While he didn't think Cassie would go out of her way to spread it, Brax didn't know how much she trusted Nathan. If she trusted him enough then she might tell him and he couldn't have that possibility there, even if he was mostly sure that she would keep it to herself. No, Dashiell was the only person he could trust with it for now and besides, there was no rush to tell everyone.

[dashiell jameson peakes]

"Acting on impulse. Why am I not surprised?" Scorn or pretentious was gone completely from Dashiell's words. He was actually a bit proud that Abraxas had acted on whatever force moved him to make his move in the showers. It proved that he wasn't becoming overly cautious and paranoid about too many things. Dashiell was also pleased with Abraxas for somewhat accepting the fact that he was to be his main concern, rather than Dashiell. He didn't need Abraxas prostrating himself for Dashiell. If Abraxas weren't taking care of Abraxas, it would show. There was no way he could take care of Dashiell if he weren't well himself. It was the first rule of a medical professional, wasn't it? He was sure he'd read somelike like that on one of the long summer nights this past year. He'd often go to work at The Three Broomsticks with his mother, simply because he could then meander around Hogsmeade like he lived there. Of course, his mother didn't own The Three Broomsticks and only worked at it and therein the family lived elsewhere, but that didn't make a difference so long as he didn't cause too much trouble. Dashiell'd spent as much time there as a young boy as he did at his own home, it seemed. It was amazing that he'd not ran into anyone he knew at Hogwarts, such as Abraxas or Maximilian, before his first year.

One evening came to Dashiell's mind, wherein he'd been walking through the wizarding village of Hogsmeade as he'd always done. He'd probably been ten or so, not quite yet old enough to enter Hogwarts, but already showing the signs of a Gryffindor: pride, courage, and a dangerous curiosity. He'd always been warned by his mother to watch how far he wandered from the village, and to return to the pub as soon as the sun began to sink. The sun, on that evening, was quite halfway through the horizon, but Dashiell wasn't satisfied with his walk. He'd known the stories of the Shrieking shack and its hauntedness. He'd known the stories the older kids spun to him, of how a girl went in there once, and never returned. They'd claimed that her bones were still in the building because no one had been stupid enough to enter for themselves. Being far too young, Dashiell hadn't intended to enter the building, but instead gain a better look at the place. He'd stood on the edge of the road, staring up at the building with eyes screwed tightly into a determined focus. He was perplexed by the idea that he couldn't find a door, no matter how hard he'd balled up his tiny fists in his focus. He was in the middle of wondering whether the door was on the back of the building when the boys who'd first told him the story managed to sneak up on him and startle him with masks they'd managed to procure. After that day, he'd refused to step on that dead-end road for a week. Eventually he'd succumbed to his need to patch his wounded pride, and stared off the building again. This time the older boys were at school and the building had no way of fighting back against the young boy's harsh stare.

"I assure you that water floats my boat." Wondering how far Abraxas had read into his innuendo, Dashiell wondered whether his comment was ill-thought out. Was his friend's reply a suggestive comment in itself? These are the questions that kept the Gryffindor far from the delicate work of literature and Charms. Give him an explosion or muddy mess any day, and he'd be a happy man; the fact that Dashiell was simple was not hard to recognize. As he'd entered the building and led the way up the numerous, unending flights of stairs — and to think that muggles had amazing things like elevators! — he hurried past any other students without making eye-contact. He was not interested in any external conversations that day. Too much had happened and while there was much time left still, he'd found himself rather exhausted at this moment. "Okay," Dashiell said quietly in the tower's main hallway. They'd be on the painting before they knew it. "We can do charms in either the dorms if you also wanted to... talk, or the common rooms if you don't." While he'd not seen anyone around, he wasn't so stupid as to blurt something regrettable out.

---

(ooc: should we move to the common rooms/dorms? :] )

[abraxas scorpius malfoy]

"Because impulsive is one of the unwritten Gryffindor traits? Without it, we probably wouldn't put ourselves in situations that require bravery." While bravery sounded much more honourable, Abraxas had to admit that it was more a case of being an idiot and dealing with the consequences. Gryffindors weren't known for their obedience and he wasn't exactly an exception. While he was aware of the sanctions he'd need to face if he were caught, Brax tended to ignore this in favour of having fun with his friends. Their spread over the houses, bar Slytherin, put them in a pretty good stead to avoid punishment as they had a larger spread of talents. Unfortunately, it also made it more difficult in that it was harder for a group of five people to sneak around where they shouldn't be without being noticed. The professors expected it of them to be curious and as they didn't cause any significant trouble, they could usually get away with one detention and a telling off.

Abraxas wasn't quite sure what to make of Dash's next comment. It sounded a natural enough response but it made him wonder if he had misinterpreted the exploding comment. He could quite easily have meant that the next time he needed to talk, he'd be there to listen and he hadn't meant anything sexual at all. After all, he knew now that Brax could potentially be interested in him in such a manner and making suggestions like that would confuse him. Dashiell was certainly straight and while having a gay best friend was fine, having them splurge all over you was a whole different ball game. Not that Ab would want to do such a thing, whether to Dash or anyone else. It just seemed a strange thing to do and, to put it bluntly, rather messy. All he seemed to be doing was rambling silently about things he didn't need to worry about. His friend had told him not too long ago that he couldn't expect him to always know the right thing to say and now was probably one of those times.

He followed Dashiell through the castle, thinking now as he did every time he climbed the grand staircase that there must be an easier method of navigating the floors. Could they not just put a bunch of doors on the ground floor, number them all and somehow link them to a door on the relevant floor? If magic could knit a jumper or perfectly repair a shattered vase then surely it could get around the stair problem? Or perhaps Abraxas was just being lazy, as per normal. "Dorms then? I don't know how much more there is to say but at least then we can talk if you want to." As soon as the words left his mouth, Ab expected to be told once again that it was about him. Even so, he'd said what he'd needed to say and any further discussion of the topic would be through Dash's decision. It would have to be, seeing as Abraxas couldn't think of anything else that they could discuss about it.

notes: we could either just carry on, start a new thread in the common rooms or just move this one to that board. whichever you'd prefer. (:

[dashiell jameson peakes]

"Someone's being really wise today. Are you sure you're Brax and not some Ravenclaw in disguise? Maybe I shouldn't let you into the common rooms..." Dashiell nudged Abraxas in the ribs as he said so; the painting was now in front of them, and he'd readied the password for expulsion. "Balfour Bane." He said demandingly. The plump woman in the picture was used to his impatience when he was otherwise occupied. He'd given his full attention to Abraxas and had no time for pleasantries with paintings. He'd probably have been there all day, being described to about the last centuries worth of gossip. Paintings were often simplistic and repetitive, despite their charming, complex appearance. He stepped through the hole created by the swinging portrait. He didn't dislike the woman. It just wasn't in his mind to have thanked her. After all, his best friend seemed to be throwing the world on its axis. He was slightly preoccupied with that idea. Strangely enough, though, he couldn't think of anything to ask his friend.

"Dorms it is, oh great choice maker!" Sometimes impulses weren't nearly as graceful as Dashiell should have liked them to be. At the first foot through the door, a student stood in front of him expectantly. He knew the girl, as he was only one year younger than Dashiell, himself. The boy was foreign-looking in comparison to many of the other students, his ancestry no doubt arching highly from some greek line; his curly sand-coloured hair stood a testimony to this. Dashiell's eyebrows rose significantly at the package in his hands: a tin roughly the diameter of a small pie. The boy held it out to him, "Uh, Dashiell, this came for you. I didn't want to leave it in the Great Hall... and your owl just sort of... dropped it and left." Dashiell took the package and thanked the Grecan boy, delighted with what could be inside. There was a small note on neat parchment, which read something about "Have a great school year! — Mum" or something like the sort. He didn't mind looking it over, for they were all vaguely similar, vaguely sentimental. He loved his mother's care packages.

Walking up the stairs to the dorms, Dashiell opened the tin, smelling the butter cookies that laid inside. They were little blocks, not the normal spirals his mother made, but she might have well been in too much a rush to be artistically inclined. She'd been thinking of taking extra hours at The Three Broomsticks. Dashiell took one out, bit it in half, and then offered the tin to Abraxas, setting it down on his newly-made bed in the process. He'd thrown off his shoes in a desperate delight, digging through his trunk for some comfortable clothing. He pulled out pajama bottoms, and an old Gryffindor t-shirt that he'd gotten in Hogsmeade years ago. It was obviously undersized, but it was cozy.

"As for charms, I seem incapable of the silencing charm. I've tried it like twenty thousand times and I still cannot give it. We even had a practical yesterday and my magic didn't exactly... work correctly." Dashiell rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He was a terrible student when it came to delicate works of magic. He'd forgotten to bring an animal to class, as did a Hufflepuff girl. They got paired up to use each other. Apparently the professor in charge thought it'd be a great idea to give them real life experience. The girl'd been successful in both silencing and fixing Dashiell after a couple of tries. Dashiell'd appeared to have gotten the spell correctly on the first time. When the girl had tried to speak, however, sparks emitted from her lips rather than words. It must have been painful, for she teared up and later glared angrily at him after the professor managed to work out whatever it was that Dashiell'd done wrong. He was then given an animal to work on. The first, a cat, continued to meowl like it'd been dipped in water. The silencing charm apparently hadn't worked, but at least was no longer emitting sparks. Next he'd gotten a raven, black and loud. He'd worked for practically twenty minutes past the other students, his efforts fruitless. He'd tell anyone that he wasn't made out for girly charmswork, but in reality he was desperately frustrated with his inability at time. If he couldn't depend on his magic, what could he depend on? Would his friends allow themselves to become severed from him if he were somehow to lose his ability to do magic? Dashiell had yet to hear of such a case, but he wasn't known for being the most realistic boy. Snapping out of his reverie, he ate the other part of the cookie. "Uhh, mind being my lab rat? I have another practical sometime soon. I promise not to hurt you this time. Heh."

[abraxas scorpius malfoy]

"Goldstein might be the Ravenclaw but I can come up with wisdom when I want to," Brax replied, smiling as Dash nudged him. They had soon approached the portrait of the Fat Lady and before he had a chance to open his mouth, Dashiell had already told her the password and the frame had swung open to reveal the common room. "Who the bloody hell is that? Shame they can't give us passwords we know something about." Names usually cropped up in History of Magic and this wasn't exactly one of his favourite subjects. While he might have been able to recognise some of the names he'd learnt over the past four years, he couldn't tell you what they were known for. He'd be over the moon to drop it by the time it came to start studying for his NEWTs, not that he'd get a good enough grade for it to be an option anyway.

Abraxas watched as a fourth year boy appeared in front of Dashiell and handed him a parcel. He glanced over his friend's shoulder and spotted the word 'Mum', suggesting it had come from home. Brax followed him up to the empty dormitories and jumped onto his bed, glancing across at Dash to see what was in the package. It appeared to be a tin of biscuits and while Abraxas wasn't usually one to refuse food, he shook his head as Dashiell offered him one. He'd eaten plenty at breakfast to see him through until later and he'd have felt somewhat guilty about eating part of his mother's gift.

"Don't worry, I had trouble with it too," Brax reassured him, although he wasn't completely honest. While he'd got it completely wrong on his first attempt, he'd managed to figure it out after a few attempts but he wouldn't have called himself an expert, even if his strength did lie in practicals. When it came to writing an essay however, he was lucky to scrape a passing grade. Abraxas was slightly wary of having Dashiell practice on him but he trusted not to mess him up too bad. Hopefully he'd be able to pull it off easier in knowing that if he didn't, his best friend was on the receiving end. "Ugh, sure," he began, sounding far more hesitant than he wished. "Of course I don't mind, just don't screw up this beautiful face if you can help it." There, that sounded much better. The last thing he wanted was for Dash to feel like he was forcing him into it. Brax wanted to help him out with his Charms. After all, it was the least he could do for helping him out with his own issues.

[dashiell jameson peakes]

"Oh... Umm, I think he did something about a committee for charms. I don't remember entirely. His name's pretty cool though. I guess they give us passwords so we'll learn something... or else sleep in the halls. I wonder if Ravenclaws have to slay some creature, so as to become braver. And I'm sure Hufflepuffs or Slytherins are taught how to be excruciatingly mean or tolerant!" The idea was of course a load of poppycock, but there was humour in his voice as he spoke. The butter cookies seemed to be vastly numerous. He couldn't even tell he'd eaten one. Had he kept his eye on the tin, he would have realised that as he took a cookie, another one in the tin shook and duplicated. It must have been his mother's magic. She was craftsy like that. As for the taste of the cookies themselves, there was nothing remarkably wonderful about them. There was something deeply nested in the recipe that kept him wanting more, some hidden gem. On the other hand, he thought he could taste something.. off. Something that seemed like an ingredient too far in the creative process. Was it gingerbread?

Dashiell smiled softly when Abraxas said he'd had troubles with the silencing charm also. He'd not been watching his friend the whole time, but he'd really doubted that Brax had truly had any great problems with the spell. He wasn't a prodigy from what Dashiell knew, but he wasn't so inept. Each person had their own wands, and their own particular strengths. There was a girl in Dashiell's third year Divinations class from the Hufflepuff house who was frighteningly great at Divinations. He was quite certain there was some undiscovered seer's blood within her family tree— how else could she have known the things she did? The fact that Abraxas was willing to lie about having trouble with the charm was an attestation of his great character. These small sacrifices that Abraxas made for him was also a reminder to Dashiell of how easy it was to move past any flaws the boy did have.

Dashiell gazed fixedly at Abraxas as he spoke, unblinking and simple. "You'll come out of this dorm just as beautiful as you came into it." Dashiell said, giving Abraxas a smirk, and rifling through his belongings for his wand. Finally his hands felt the familiar cedar wood, and he came back, now sitting cross-legged on his own bed. "Okay, so, I'm just going to give this a go, I guess... Then you try to talk, okay?" Dashiell took a deep breath and watched Abraxas for a moment, noticed how his eyes were enviously clear, how his hair never seemed to be in a mess, how he seemed to be willing to sacrifice his safety in order to support Dash's wild spell practice. "...Silencio." Dashiell's wand was pointed firmly in Abraxas's direction as he waiting for the other boy's response.

[abraxas scorpius malfoy]

Abraxas rolled his eyes as Dashiell suggested the reason the passwords were so obscure was so that they would learn something. The professors were always jibbering on about how they were at Hogwarts to learn. Yes, that was the main point of the school but there was a significant part of the day that was spent outside of lessons and studying wasn't something he wanted to be doing in those hours. What did they think he was, a Ravenclaw? "Don't we do enough of that in lessons?" he replied, followed shortly by laughter as Dash went on to suggest what was required of the other houses in order to access their common rooms. He knew of the Ravenclaw door knocker, having ventured up the wrong tower in his first year, but the other entrances were a complete mystery to him.

"Then my name is Abraxas Malfoy and I shall be your lab rat for today," he replied, hoping that there would be no need for the nurse to come up to the dormitories in the time between him entering and leaving them. He was just mentally exaggerating anyway, Dash wasn't that bad at Charms. Then again, he'd seen the results to yesterday's attempts to cast the charm and it hadn't worked out all that well for the Hufflepuff girl, or the animals either for that matter. He'd have offered to share his owl but after seeing the sparks fly from the girl's mouth, Brax assumed it would be better for the owl to be selfish on that occasion. "Sounds good to me. If for some reason I never talk again, tell my mother I love her." It was perhaps a little insensitive to pick out his flaw in Charms but he wasn't being unpleasant. He hoped that it would help him out in the long run if he had a greater desire to get it right.

He did his best to sit perfectly calmly though he knew without this control he'd have closed his eyes and prayed for the best. Hadn't the Charms professor said something about how being worked up about something could make your spell go wrong? If Abraxas stayed calm then hopefully Dash would be calmer too and with any luck that would give him a better chance of pulling it off. Once he managed it once, Brax was sure he could manage it a second time. 'Wait a second, what about the counter charm?' he thought but before he had a chance to bring it up, Dashiell had cast the charm at him. "Testing?" he said, or at least attempted to say. He could hear himself within his own head but had no idea if anyone else could her him too.

[dashiell jameson peakes]

"Oh, is that what..." Dashiell paused, smug with himself as he popped another cookie into his mouth. He was clearly a boredom-eater who was blessed with a highly functioning metabolism. "Is that what classes are for? I have been using them.. differently." Just the other day, during Care of Magical Creatures, he'd voted to stay away from the many bescaled, bewinged creatures in cages, and instead spoke to a boy in his year of Dash's boring summer job at a muggle's retail store. The other boy was of a rather pure-blooded family and seemed to find it intriguing, the various technologies and systems that the muggles had, and was similarly pleased with his knowledge of muggle money. When a nearby student was wounded by before-described beast and her skin began to turn vaguely fuschia in hue, the rest of the class was too preoccupied to keep their eyes on Dashiell and other.

"You don't look like a rat at all; more like a dog, I think. Maybe even a rabbit." Dashiell moved his nose to simulate being a rabbit. "I am not a mad scientist at all, Abraxas. You'll see. I've been really trying at this spell. I figure if ever I end up with a girl who never stops talking, I'd be well off to know this charm." He almost mentioned the fact that if he were desperate enough, he could at least make the girl's mouth create sparks. That'd get her away from him, although it would potentially also give her a reason to hold a grudge. The last thing he'd needed in his life was for some girl to have it out for him. He didn't need to die in his fifth year. Not in that fashion. "If you never speak again, at least you won't say anything stupid." This caused reflection on his part. Dashiell wasn't too great at knowing exactly what to say. He tried to keep his statements flaccid, unless he knew for sure what he was going to say, but from time to time his cautiousness failed to surface and he'd find himself regretting something he'd said. Usually Dashiell had these episodes the first time he'd meet people, as he wasn't sure whether they were stuffy or not.

"I really don't see why you're so bent out of shape. You're fine. I just... haven't quite got this yet." Dashiell didn't really expect himself to succeed the first time. It wouldn't have been a realistic dream. Instead of silencing Abraxas's nervous voice, he'd managed to... alter it. Instead of being the voice that had become as familiar to Dashiell as the sun's light itself, it was deep like a foghorn, with its contrabass undertones. It was foreign and strange to Dashiell, when he was so used to Brax's other voice. He couldn't remember when his friend's voice became integral to his identity, when he first began to associate the two so fondly with another, but this new voice was far too deep to be serious. Dash's eyes snapped open like they were spring-loaded, and he rolled back on his bed laughing. Normally, he'd be amazed that his spell could have had such humourous effects on a voice, rather than just unfortunate pain. It must have been a lucky coincidence. Maybe he'd not enunciated well enough for his wand... it was spectacularly stubborn at times, refusing to believe he'd ask of it such trivial spells as a silencing charm. It longed for more active days. Another lucky coincidence happened then, Dashiell wasn't so unsuccessful with the counter-charm. He threw it at Abraxas as if it were nothing, and awaited another try. "You see my problem now? I dun't even know where to begin!" Oh, the woe.