Strong as a Lion, Swift as a Snake || Octavius, Augustus, Fabian, and Phoebe

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Strong as a Lion, Swift as a Snake || Octavius, Augustus, Fabian, and Phoebe

Post by sayum on Sat Feb 21, 2015 10:27 pm

The Rookwood twins were smart. Devilishly smart. Just because they were smart did not mean that they made smart decisions, however. Currently their decision was to piss of a lot of their housemates. It did not take much, just a few staged sentences that only blood traitors would say, call the other Slytherins 'inbred mongrels', and voilà! Instant angry purebloods. 

Octavius did not know why they did it, really. It was one of those 'seemed like a good idea at the time' deals and Augustus was the mastermind. Octavius, true to his nature, followed his twin into whatever chaos he decided to create. It could not hurt. Not when the chaos was relatively rare and harmless. Only this time they had gotten a bit in over their heads. The other Slytherins were learning. Imagine that! They had back up this time and it all began collapsing into something above their collective skill level to contest. 

All exits were blocked. Even back to back they stood little chance of getting out of this unscathed. It was not pain they feared. Pain they could deal with. Pain they were used to. But losing this battle would set a tone for every battle moving forward. Losing this battle made them more of a target and less of a threat.

"I blame you for this." Octavius said though there was a distinct lack of sourness in his tone.

"You'd blame me for the goblin wars if it suited you." Replied the younger twin with a grin.

As if he could feel the smirk of Augustus', Octavius mirrored it. Even in the face of danger such as this, things did not seem so dim knowing he was not alone. He knew Augustus felt the same. They had always been like that. Dependent. Not in a thoroughly unhealthy way but in a necessary for survival way. The pair knew when to help each other and when to let one another go.

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Re: Strong as a Lion, Swift as a Snake || Octavius, Augustus, Fabian, and Phoebe

Post by thegirlnamedcrow on Sun Feb 22, 2015 2:42 pm

         “I’m bored.”

         It was the thirty-seventh time that night that Phoebe had made that proclamation (not that Fabian was keeping count, of course), and the determined repetition was slowly driving him out of his mind. Which was, of course, Phoebe’s plan. She knew full well that if she annoyed him with her whining for long enough, he would intervene, if only to shut her up.

         Flat on her back with her head dangling off the edge of the sofa, Phoebe opened her mouth wide. “I’m so, so, so bo – ”

         Now that was it. Thirty-seven times, Fabian could tolerate. Thirty-eight times, it turned out, was absolutely unacceptable. Springing to his feet, Fabian reached down to wrap an arm around his sister’s waist.

         “All right, little one,” he grumbled, hauling her into an upright position. “You win. Come on, let’s get you out of here before you burn the common room to the ground.”

         The smile that Phoebe fixed her elder brother with was brighter than the sun.

         Five minutes later, after having surreptitiously slipped out of the portrait hole when the house prefect was busy chastising a first year, the siblings were walking together down an abandoned hall, and Phoebe had resumed her complaints.

         “I thought this was supposed to be fun, big brother. I thought you knew how to have a good time, but this?” She scoffed. Phoebe was very good at making her displeasure known. “I might as well be sitting in History of Magic for as much as I’m enjoying myself right now.”

         “Patience, Phee,” Fabian said, clicking his tongue. “You’ve got to lea
rn to be patient. You’d miss the World Cup because you can’t be arsed to wait in line for tickets.”

         Phoebe’s only response to that was to pull a face and make a loud raspberry, but it did shut her up. For the moment, at least.

         The pair walked in silence for a moment. Well, in as close to silence as the Prewett siblings ever came. Phoebe may have been repeatedly poking her brother in the arm with the tips of her fingers while making little ‘Pew pew!’ noises, but no matter. It was close enough.

         After another few moments, after which point Phoebe had grown bored of her previous activity and was now spinning in small circles as they walked along. How she managed to keep it up without getting incredibly dizzy, Fabian had no idea. 

         Just as he could sense his sister reaching the end of her ability to amuse herself, a noise carried down the hall. Voices. Hostile voices. Too faint to make out the words, but the intention behind them was clear.

         Fabian and Phoebe had seen enough trouble in their time that they instantly recognised the sounds of a good fight.

         Phoebe raised an eyebrow. “Now that,” she said, a grin stretching across her face, “Sounds like fun. Care to investigate, Mr Prewett?”

         Fabian grinned right back at her. “Why, that sounds like a most excellent plan, Miss Prewett. After you, my dear.”

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