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There's a perfectly normal set of words to explain where he's been. They're even the sort of words that make for something genuinely reasonable to sort out why he hadn't instantly appeared at the other young man's side.

But.

There's a deep scowl set over his features as he shakes his head, pulls himself into the compartment to make himself small on one corner of the seat. "'s not important."

"That's a crappy answer," he retorts as he shifts farther down the seat to be across from his best friend.

"'ve been worried about you. I thought you missed the train."

He at least owes him some sort of explanation for that.

He almost had missed the train. That's a much funnier, more cheerful sort of story to set the tone of their ride back to school.

"How long's your cousin going to date that-- ridiculous git?"

But clearly there are more important things to discuss. Like Elliot fucking Reynolds.

Edited (...DW that icon is just. Wrong.) 2013-06-14 04:48 (UTC)

Ah. There's the start of something, then.

"Dunno. Not like anybody goes into these sort of things with a plan for how long it's going to be." And not like Rachel would have told him if she had, really. She'd drifted from him as an unfortunate result of her drifting from Edgar, "She seems really keen on him, though."

Edited 2013-06-14 05:01 (UTC)

Staring out the window is usually a good bet. The countryside is a soothing thing, a grounding vista Andrew's always directing him to stare at when his ire gets up. It's not actually helping the displeasure twisting his gut today.

"Why?" His knuckles rap on the window without a proper rhythm. "What in the hell's so special about him?"

"Hell if I know." Because he remembers the Slytherin from when they were all younger well enough to wonder if things really could have changed so much, "They're in the same House. See a lot of each other and all that. Suspect that-- helps things along."

"What-- so I should just pick some nice Gryffindor at random to stick to because I see her all the time?" Ridiculous. His attention flits back to Andrew, eyes just a little harsh. "And you'll settle down with some Hufflepuff and 'gine will meet some handsome older Ravenclaw and we'll all-- have House stereotypes for children?"

The anger isn't really meant to be directed at Andrew. It just seems like too much time has passed to go back and punch the real target of his discomfort in the smug smirk.

"'s not what I meant and you know it," he answers calmly, knowing better than to get his hackles raised by the rage that wasn't meant for him, "'re more likely to start dating someone you actually spend time with, y'know? And they've been able t'-- spend a lot more time together, these past few years."

Much though it kills him to admit, because Reynolds isn't the sort of company he wants his cousin to have spent so much time around.

People who have an predisposition to fall inside themselves need someone to drag them out; people who have a predisposition to explode need someone to draw them back in. They understand each other. It's what had been so crucial to fight for five years ago when they didn't end up in beds beside each other in the Tower.

But apparently, Rachel had also been a crucial piece, and accidentally neglected in the push to keep what he knew he needed most.

"But she's-- smarter than that. Or she-- was smarter than that. Than-- him. With his-- face."

...people who have a predisposition for lashing out also need someone to help with their vocabulary, apparently.

None of them had realized what would become of their little Quartet; if they had, they all would have clung a little, tried a little harder. But there's no way they can go back to fix it.

He reaches across the way to squeeze his best friend's knee, a crooked smile that isn't really one of happiness touching his lips, "I think she's-- lonely, mm? And that maybe he makes her-- feel less so, and so she's-- clinging to that, no matter how stupid he and his face is."

"But-- she's got Argine's face." Which isn't at all the same, but he's not arguing from a place of logic. "And-- your face. Your face isn't a stupid face."

Clearly eloquence wasn't coming back any time remotely soon.

"'gine's not always around, mm? And she doesn't see me nearly as much as she used to." Because he was spending so much of his time with Edgar, after all, and it wasn't as though they'd sought out the girls as much as they should.

"An' he lives in the same part of the Castle as her. They see each other in the common room an' they're on the Quidditch team together... Look, 'm not saying 's a good thing, but he's-- able to be there for her, mm?"

More than they are.

His eyes flick out the window again as he listens, nose wrinkled and brow scowling at the entirely innocent countryside they're flying through. It doesn't help his mood, but it does allow him to push his logical brain slightly more to the fore.

"So-- what? 'm I supposed to be-- happy about him?"

"Not about him, necessarily." Because goodness knows neither of them are particularly happy about them older boy, "But-- happy she's got someone."

Edited (DW eated a word.) 2013-06-14 14:40 (UTC)

And he is, in a way. He's glad beyond belief that their negligence in looking after the girls hasn't resulted in the younger half of their Quartet being completely alone. He's so pleased that she's fitting in with her House despite the unexpected sorting.

He just really, really takes issue with one point. Which seems to be the face of Elliot Reynolds.

"Does that mean I can't punch him? Repeatedly?"

He can't help the chuckle, even though he knows that with Edgar it's a threat to be taken seriously.

"I don't think that'd help things very much, Ed."

"May I punch him once for reasons unrelated t' the fact he's not half good enough for your cousin?"

Is this a genuine negotiation? Yes. Yes, it is.

"Possibly in his generally stupid facial area?"

"If you can come up with a really valid reason, I think you could get away with it."

Since Reynolds isn't even a quarter good enough for Rachel, and Andrew wouldn't mind the Slytherin getting a fist in the face if it weren't so detrimental to the state of their relationship to Rachel and their standing in school.

"Probably won't be that hard."

And apparently probably wouldn't get Edgar expelled. Might even get him creativity points for throwing a punch rather than throwing hexes.

"Just-- wish it weren't so--" He's fumbling. Looking back at Andrew--his rock, for better or worse--helps only so much. "--so hard to be happy for her. Because of him."

Andrew suspects it might be slightly more what the other young man means to Rachel than just his character, necessarily, that makes him so repulsive to his best friend, but there's absolutely no need to bring that up. No need to drag into light feelings that may be that Edgar wasn't necessarily aware of in the middle of the rest of this mess.

"He's an arse, no question about it. But he's an arse that she likes, so we've-- got to try, mm?"

Or risk pushing her away even more firmly than they already had.

That's a conversation for a later time. Probably a time when Edgar wasn't already worked up into a tizzy.

"'m only going to behave myself if he behaves himself."

"Ed." The disapproval in his tone is clear, "Y'don't like him. That means y'think everything he does is him not behaving."

Which means that the policy he's trying to put into play isn't going to really work, is it.

"That's not true."

Sort of. Maybe. Hang on and give him a minute glaring a hole into the wall behind Andrew's head.

"'m-- I am glad if-- he makes her happier than she was. So that's... not a reason t' punch him."

"One in contrast to the how many other reasons y've probably already thought of as to why you should punch him?"

He knows you better than that, Edgar.

Bah. Stupid friends who know you even better than you know yourself.

"Do I get no credit for not punching him just now?"

A raised eyebrow.

"Depends, I suppose. What'd he do?"

"Existed. Which--" Up goes a hand. Let him finish before you make all the faces at him, Andrew, sir. "--is not a punch-able offense."

But.

"And, I mean-- interrupted us almost... having a conversation."

When's the last time that had happened?

He still makes a face, but at least he doesn't interrupt until he concludes. It at least gets him looking a little more sympathetic.

"'s definitely not the best thing," he answers, "But-- she was still there, mm?"

Hang on. He's still coming back down into faintly broody from the pinnacle of frustration. "Still where?"

"The compartment, 'm assuming." It's a good thing he's grown up to be so patient. "Wherever the two of you were almost about to have a conversation before he butted in."

One of them had to be patient. Clearly one of them was still learning to be as patient as the average five-year-old. "Presumably. With him still trying to suck her soul out of her face. I'm assuming."

"That's insulting to Dementors, Ed." Although he clearly isn't pleased to hear it, "But 'm pretty sure that if you're going to punch him, it'd be best not t'do it when she's able to see it. She might hex you."

Or might never forgive him for it, which is likely worse.

"...even if he deserves it? Or starts it?" And yes, Edgar vaguely understands that provoking the older boy would count as 'starting it.'

"She'd just hex the both of you, then."

Because Rachel is one of those that actually thinks most people are capable of 'ending' a disagreement calmly, even and especially if someone else was responsible for 'starting it.'

"Suppose I don't want that."

Or to stay upright. Now was clearly time to sprawl over and be completely flopped on the seat.

Why does everything suck, Drew. Why.

It sucks because things suck. But at least he can be tugged into a snuggle to try to make it better.

"Not really, no. Might end up getting stuck next to him in the hospital wing."

Edited 2013-06-15 01:34 (UTC)

Damn. Snuggles from Andrew. His only weakness.

It takes a moment to squirm, flop, pretend to protest while actually curling to get closer. "Can't have that. Might actually go insane."

His evil master plan has succeeded. All the cuddles are theirs.

"And that'd be just awful. I don't want t'have t'drag myself all the way over to St. Mungo's just t'see you."

"After all those times I dragged myself down to the cellar for you?" And accidentally into the common room that wasn't his, on more than one occasion. Whoops. "That hurts, Drew."

"At least the cellar was in the same building." Even if it was on the other end of the castle. Even if the common room was a pretty similar distance. "You're talking about having me sneak out to an entirely different city t'see you every day."

The smile is imperfect. It'll take at least the rest of the train-ride to get the unhappy gunk out of his system.

"Would you really come down to London every single day?"

They'll work at it. Andrew at least knows how to help keep his best friend happy.

"Y'know I would. Or I'd at least try."

"You, sir," are first of all getting tugged down for a forehead-bump, "have the least stupid face I've ever met."

A grin and a nudge of his nose against his best friend's.

"Likewise, Ed."

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Clearly DW mistakenly thinks that Edgar approves. :|

DW you're drunk again. Go home.

Why is the Interwebz so intoxicate tonight :|a

Maybe it's just hung-over from the three day holiday. :|a

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DW you were getting sober again. What happened. :|

I think it got hungry from its sobering-up-ness. :|

But comments are not noms. We need all the words. Nom an apple. :|

DW is not a goat, Qi, that was LJ. I don't think it likes apples. :|

...so Sydney can't fix it, you say.

...Idk, Sydney can fix a lot of things. :|a

I will sound the horns. B|

\o/

...Drea are we weird.

Yes. Yes we are. \o/

Is it a happy thing. \o/

Absolutely \o/

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