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Margarleon Turpentine

I'm the kind of kid that can't let anything go

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Margarleon Turpentine

Although it seemed that everyone after the attacks wanted to be kind and gentle, Leon did not fit that mold. He was impatient for things to resume their normal pace, for the maddening, too-strict rules to be loosened, to stop feeling like he was being coddled when he was one of the few who had only witnessed the attack, not been injured. And, he wasn’t nearly as scarred by merely being a bystander as some people seemed to think he should be. It was true that he’d never seen anything so violent in his life, but in the dark of the night, it had been only snapshots; only little clips of action, that remained in his brain. And it had ended quickly, all blurring together.

 

The aftereffects were a bit harder to forget. Annag, with her arm in a sling the first night after the hospital wing. All the scars that people couldn’t cover up, on hands and necks that they fruitlessly tried to pull their sleeves or collars over. Leon wondered how many more had received scars that were easily masked…

 

But one person who’d received perhaps the most grisly of scars was his roommate and sworn enemy, Dale the Dog. And, if anyone thought that Leon was going to let bygones be bygones and try to turn over a new leaf with the boy, they were dead wrong. In fact, Leon planned to use this new development against his roommate the next time he had the chance.

 

That chance came only a little while after he’d been released from the hospital wing, as Leon was departing the dueling chamber and heading up for dinner, and he happened to catch sight of Dale heading towards him, deeper into the dungeons. Bingo. “Oi, Dog,” He gave a little whistle, as if summoning a dog towards him, a sardonic smirk twisting onto his features. “It’s a pity your wolf kin didn’t give you a nice bite so you could take on your real form once a month, eh?” The words were given without apology, with no sensitivity, because Dale didn’t deserve any of that.

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Dale McQueen-Trengrove

Leon was probably the last person that Dale wanted to see during this time. He had been trying to avoid everyone and largely he had succeeded so far. So he was not expecting to run into Leon on his way back to the Slytherin common room at that particular moment. 

 

And of course Leon had to make a comment about his face. A rude comment. He expected nothing less from the rat. Really he might be more like a bug that Dale just wanted squashed at all costs. 

 

He deserved to be squashed for his words.

 

Or maybe he deserved to eat bugs. The thought gave Dale an idea. He didn't care at all if he got in trouble for using magic outside of class or the dueling chamber either. All he cared about was making Leon sick. He knew what the slug hex was like now; he had seen his own spell in action. After his first successful time casting it at Willa, he had used it several times since then. 

 

"It's a pity they didn't eat you." Leon had somehow escaped unscathed and it made him ripe with anger. "Vomere limcais!" He pointed his wand straight at Leon's throat. 

Edited by Dale McQueen-Trengrove

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Margarleon Turpentine

Leon expected more. He expected Dale to retaliate with words about how Leon was a worthless rat, how Leon should do this or that or some other thing in order to please society, but instead, all he received was seven resentful words, It’s a pity they didn’t eat you. That was a weak retort and Leon was eager to call the boy out on how his insults were getting weaker, but he quickly noticed two things. One, Dale had his wand out now, and two, he had uttered two foreign words to Leon.

 

Vom-air lim-cat? What the hell… but the jet of light that shot out was nothing Leon had been expecting, and thus, he didn’t even have time to dodge. Whatever spell Dale had just conjured hit Leon right in the the throat, of all places, and momentarily took away his ability to breathe. It truthfully felt like something was stuck in his throat, something he couldn’t swallow no matter how hard he tried.

 

He opened his mouth to protest and try to ask what Dale had done… but what came out was one lonely slug. A slug! Leon’s green eyes widened, but before he could say anything else, another retch brought up about 15 more slug friends. What. The. Hell?! He looked up, scrounging his wand out of his pocket and aiming it at Dale angrily. “Your insults have gotten really weak, Dale,” Leon spat, spitting with his words a rogue slug, which hopefully would hit Dale right in his scarred face. He raised his own wand and issuedhis own retaliation a moment later, “Oppugno!” He was certain he’d still rather fight with his fists, but if spell warfare was what Dale wanted, it was spell warfare he would get.

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Dale McQueen-Trengrove

Leon’s words were completely accurate. His insults had gotten weak. Or rather, for a long while, his insults had not existed at all. There had been none of the usual person that was Dale and instead he had retreated inwardly and hidden from everyone else. But he really didn’t think much of Leon’s insults either. In his opinion, they were the same as what Leon had always done. 

 

The only reason that he had reacted was that he didn’t want to deal with Leon’s crap. He just wanted to be left alone. But apparently that was asking too much. 

 

“You’re not worth the breath is why,” he responded to Leon. ”And it’s not like your insults are any better. You just use the same tired old thing comparing me to a dog. Hardly noteworthy anymore.” It was wildly entertaining though to see Leon be affected by his slug hex, which he was now in the business of perfecting so that he could use it without it taking as much energy from him. Dale started laughing as the slugs predictably came back up but the laughter quickly died on his face when Leon did a couple of things. 

 

First, he tried to hit him with a rouge slug, but luckily Dale dodged that. 

 

He was not so lucky when it came to the spell that Leon cast, however, as a combination of the books that he was carrying with suddenly started hitting him squarely on the head. 

 

Cue the ugliest and meanest stare Dale had ever given someone. His eyes pierced Leon’s as he looked down upon the other boy that he despised. He wished he knew another spell besides the stupid four ones that they had learned so that he could hammer Leon with it. 

 

Instead Dale used his weight to slam Leon against the wall. 

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Margarleon Turpentine

Pfft. “Oh, don’t worry, I got some new ones now that you have such a nasty scar on that gob of yours,” Leon spat, coughing through another slug crawling out of his mouth. The boy did still think Dale was rather comparable to a dog, but now that Dale had gotten himself good and scarred up, there were so many more opportunities to insult him. The fact that someone as “perfect” as Dale the Dog was now marred in such a way made Leon positively gleeful, even through the nausea induced by Dale’s spell.

 

He’d never admit that this spell was precisely the type of spell Leon would love to learn.

 

Leon guffawed as Dale was struck with his own spell, though, pure cheer flowing through him as Dale’s hideous features were struck with books and other miscellany lying around in the corridor. This was such a brilliant spell. Leon was laughing so hard that he coughed up a few more slugs along with his chortling, but he hardly minded. It was all worth it.

 

Or at least, that was what he thought until Dale slammed his not insubstantial weight into Leon, hurling him against a wall. Leon’s breath was knocked out of him, and along with it, another lone slug, which to his amusement went on a trajectory straight towards Dale without him even trying. “Merlin, Dale, do you ever take it easy on the treacle tart?” Leon asked with a snigger, his wand still gripped tightly in one hand as he tried to debate his next move. He could aim for a punch, or a kick… or…

 

“Locomotor mortis!” Dale would be a whole lot easier to shove on the ground with his legs locked together. And from there, perhaps Leon could further mar his face.

Edited by Margarleon Turpentine

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Dale McQueen-Trengrove

“Oh really? I don’t hear anything new,” he snarled. “Feels like the same old insults to me, Rat.” But the game this time wasn’t necessarily the insults, it was the spells that they were casting at one another. The slug hex was his most powerful spell and it had a great effect on everyone, including Leon he was finding. Dale grinned as another slug came up though he was careful to avoid it. 

 

For as many times as he had used the slug hex now, he was still not used to the fact that the things still crawled around after they were vomited up, including on his leg. 

 

As he slammed Leon against the wall, he saw another slug come toward him - and this one he had to pluck off his neck after it landed and throw it violently to the floor. Of course Leon hadn’t been able to resist trying to make another insult. He usually went off on people if they made comments about his size but he was almost too tired to care about this point. “Comments about my size are old too.” 

 

He held Leon there until all of a sudden he felt his legs become literally glued together. 

 

He could not move. If he tried to continue hurling his weight into Leon he could easily fall over. And he didn’t want to do that. Muttering to himself, he reached for his wand again and then blasted a knockback jinx at Leon. 

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Sir Forrest of Orange III

It was the flying slug that squashed against the old knights shield that disgruntled him most, and that was only because he hadn't been paying the two tiny children any attention as they argued at the far end of the corridor.  

 

But that slug had distance.  

 

A second one had slammed against Sir Forrest's shin and a third somewhere else that he wasn't going to mention and now... now the suit of armor was really going to need a good polish.  It was hard enough to get the castle elves to pay much attention to him on the regular; these smudges would have to come out ASAP.  

 

A quick snap of his neck turned his attention towards the spells (and limbs?) flying back and forth between the two young boys and another knocked his sword against the metal of his shield with a loud clang in hopes of scaring them out.  No one needed to see him in this state of unkempt.  

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Margarleon Turpentine

“Are you sure about that, Dog?” Leon asked, as he still struggled to regain his breath after Dale had slammed into him. The kid really was large, especially in comparison to Leon, who was still rather lanky, despite having filled in a bit in large part because of how much food there always was at Hogwarts. “Because I think it bothers you more than you…” He spit out another pair of slugs, “Care to admit.”

 

He snickered as his spell his Dale, though, locking his legs together and thus making him a much easier target for any attack that Leon would try on him next. He was just stepping away from the wall he’d been slammed into when Dale’s jinx hit him, knocking him right back into it, and Leon let out a little grunt as his spine collided with the rocky wall.

 

But that didn’t put much of a pause in his steps… but even as he moved to make another attack on Dale, some clanking distracted him, and he looked over to see the suit of armor (@Sir Forrest of Orange III), seemingly angry, but this only made Leon hatch an idea. “Oi, suit of armor guy! Come join my fight…” Leon had to pause for more slugs, which hit the floor in a splatter. “Attack him, he’s the enemy,” Leon pointed to Dale with a sneer before raising his wand and uttering yet another bombardment curse. “Oppugno!”

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Professor Grimsby

Although previously, Grim had spent 90% of his life in underbelly of Hogwarts, he found that now that he had a bit of natural light in his classroom, his trips to the potions lab took on a misty, dark quality. It was ominous, really. And not just because they'd kind of replaced him with a pirate.

 

So it wasn't a surprise when he stumbled upon raised voices and some agitated armor. These things just seemed to happen in the dungeons.

 

"I better not hear what I think I'm hearing," he announced as he rounded a shadowy corner, "It's entirely possible, of course, I am a bit of a dinosaur, so please, tell me I'm not hearing spells, slugs, and shenanigans."

 

They'd better come up with something good.

 

"Oh, and the first person to put their wand away gets to speak first." And maybe he'd consider cancelling the hexes. Maybe.

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Dale McQueen-Trengrove

Dale's ears turned red in anger -- a clear sign that it did bother him more than he wanted to let on, but he held his tongue as best he could. At least he did not have to dwell on it for too long as they were in the middle of a duel and he was concentrating less on Leon's words, and more on how to best hurt him. It caused him to grin when Leon was knocked back by his jinx and hoped that the effects of Leon's leg-locker curse would end soon so that he could come after him some more. 

 

That was until he heard the loud clang of metal to metal and Dale swiveled his head to see where the sound came from. It was then that he spotted the suit of armor that Leon had spotted first and was now trying to convince him to join his fight. 

 

"He won't listen to you," Dale replied as he raised his wand to cast another spell. 

 

But that was when they were interrupted again. By a professor no less. Oh #####. Specifically, their History of Magic professor, Grimsby. Dale quickly pocketed his wand and then started babbling wondering how he could talk himself out of this once. The last thing he needed was for his mum @Tara McQueen-Trengrove to hear that he had gotten in trouble again. 

 

"He started it." he said quickly. "Said it was a pity a wolf hadn't bit me." Really, he had been trying not to talk to anyone (much less Leon) but he couldn't possibly have let anything go with him. Especially comments that were about his appearance. 

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Sir Forrest of Orange III

As if he wanted to join in the fight.  

 

All the old Knight wanted to do was shuffle off out of the hall and convince (read: threaten at sword point) an unsuspecting elf to polish the slug slime off his suit.  A snorting tuft of air rustled through his helmet at the very thought and he turned his head away from the young boy.  His cause was not convincing.   

 

If he'd been a younger, less grumpy, air filled suit of glory he might have tried to save the day, but one of the slugs was inching underneath his shin plate and dripping slime into his boot and the arrival of the Professor could not have been more opportune.  "To the shackles." He suggested lowly.  Did they even use those anymore?     

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Margarleon Turpentine

The suit of armor was apparently not moved to support Leon. Which was a bummer, Leon thought, because it’d be pretty badass to have the suit of armor on his side to fight against someone like Dale. No luck. And it seemed that they were just getting more unlucky, because before their fight could progress any further, Professor Grimsby was on the scene.

 

Leon groaned, despite the fact that he actually rather liked their history of magic professor, frustrated to have the fight interrupted. He didn’t much care if he got a detention or points taken or whatever, but the idea of not being able to finish what he’d (admittedly) started annoyed him. Professors totally cramped his style, with all their rule-enforcing.

 

He rolled his eyes at Dale’s predictable reaction, the boy immediately throwing the blame onto Leon for starting it. He wasn’t even going to try to deny it, because he didn’t care about getting in trouble with authority, unlike Dale, who certainly was dreading getting reprimanded by his parents, who preached about manners and the like. “Yeah, a’ight, I did say that,” Leon shrugged. “He told me that he wished I’d been eaten though, and he fired off the first spell, which is why I’m pukin’ these slugs…” As if to represent this, he spat one up right by Professor Grimsby’s shoes. “So as I see it, we’re both guilty here, and Dale’s just tryin’ to get out of you writin’ to his parents.”

 

Take that, Dale. Leon pegged the boy with a mischievous gaze before his eyes slid over momentarily to the suit of armor, who seemed to be advocating for the strictest punishment. Bring it on.

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