Title: all broken apart for me
Description: arnilworthy saves the day
Arnold Peasegood - August 13, 2011 10:03 AM (GMT)
Arnold truly did believe that everyone was really a nice person, once you gave them a chance and got to know them. He'd been raised to look at the world through incredibly optimistic eyes, and five years in the wizarding world had not changed the habit. A distinct inability to grasp the tensions between Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses (and, by extension, the whole concept of "blood status") had, perhaps, been slightly damaging to his personal health during the course of his first few years, but things had eventually been smoothed over once Kennilworthy Whisp and the Gryffindor Quidditch team had made it quite clear that Arnold was not to be touched—when he was in their line of sight, at least.
But this afternoon, Arnold had found himself in a rather empty corridor on the first floor—he wasn't quite sure he, although he suspected it had something to do with trying to catch a ghost who'd walked right through him outside the Great Hall without so much as a response to his enthusiastic "Hi, there!"—out of sight of the Gryffindor Quidditch team and very much in sight of a few older Slytherins who didn't seem very happy with the current course of his social life.
He stumbled slightly as the largest one gave him a rough shove, ended up with his back and hands pressed against the wall. They'd already tossed his book bag aside and plucked his glasses from his nose, rendering them into black blurs with a touch of green at their throats. Much like Alastor looked without Arnold's glasses, to be quite honest, but then again Alastor wasn't quite so... large. Nor, of course, would he ever be doing something like this.
"Not so excited to make friends now, are you, mudblood?" The one that Arnold suspected to be the shover—it really was difficult to tell when they were all just big fuzzy behemoths—stepped forward. It would have been rather menacing, if Arnold had been able to see. As it was, he cringed back slightly, although the expression on his face made it clear that he was still more than willing to be friendly if they'd just hand back his glasses and maybe drop by the Great Hall for some cider. The Slytherin's voice rose mockingly in what Arnold suspected was supposed to be an approximation of his own voice. It wasn't really that high, was it? "They're nice once you get to know them," he said, "aren't they?"
"I'm sure you are!" Arnold said—or would have said, had he suddenly not found himself raised up onto his tiptoes as the Slytherin grabbed him by the collar and lifted him a few inches. Instead, he managed to gasp out, "I'm sorry?"
Honestly, he wasn't sure why they were bothering him. The thought that it was his friendship with Alastor that they disapproved of hadn't even crossed his mind; to Arnold, it was natural to attempt to befriend everyone possible with a smile and a wave. Maybe he'd accidentally spilled some oatmeal on them one morning at breakfast? Although he wasn't entirely sure how he'd manage that.
Kennilworthy Whisp - August 25, 2011 10:54 PM (GMT)
It wasn't that Kennilworthy was particularly bold or foolhardy - he was quite the opposite. Normally easygoing with something of a joy for planning, he did not often find himself in situations like the one he was about to thrust himself into. Really, there wasn't much of a choice, was there? As he witnessed the thugs from the other end of the corridor, he felt a swell in his stomach, something like nausea, only it burned; rather more incensed than he'd felt in quite some time, he was just paces away within moments, wand out and raised to chest height. He might've thought of something clever to say to get their attention, but he was a bit too upset. Instead, he took immediate action - it was Gryffindor in a manner that Kennilworthy so rarely was, and honestly, it felt good.
"Accio!" he said sharply, half to make them turn, and managed, though a bit fumblingly, to catch the other boy's glasses. While he may not have been strong or even particularly tall, he could duel - people in dueling club were aware of his skill, as were several outside of it. It was, after all, something he was particularly proud of. "What do you think you're doing?" he continued, and though he was quite angry, he was still Kennilworthy, and his tone lacked the emotion almost completely. Rather, he sounded disgusted, and certainly not as close to hexing as he actually was.
Arnold Peasegood - August 27, 2011 01:47 AM (GMT)
Along with screwing his eyes shut in anticipation of being hit in the face (since even without his glasses, he was able to pick out motion from the Slytherins, which even he was forced to assume meant that violence was impending), not being able to see made it kind of difficult for Arnold to see and greet Kenny. The Slytherins noticed the arrival of the second Gryffindor first, and Arnold was allowed to fall back onto his feet. Force of habit made him move to push his glasses back up his nose, even though they weren't there, and his smile flickered slightly. The sound of a familiar voice casting a Summoning Charm, however, brought it back in full force.
"Hi, Kenny!" he called past the Slytherins, but there really wasn't time to carry on a conversation.
"Get lost, Whisp," one of the Slytherins said, seeming to Arnold to be very large and rather unnerving. But there wasn't much vehemence in the bigger boy's voice, and the mood had changed from gleeful torment to distinctly annoyed at Kenny's presence. "This has nothing to do with you."
"Thanks for getting my glasses, Kenny," Arnold added. "They're not broken, are they?"
One of the Slytherins shoved him back against the wall without, Arnold suspected, looking back at him. "Shut up, twerp," one of them said casually. Arnold, ever polite, stayed quiet. Apparently satisfied that their victim was appropriately cowed, the Slytherins' attention returned to Kenny. "Now bugger off," the biggest one said, "before I take your glasses instead."
Arnold couldn't help himself: he peered around the Slytherins, squinting in vain to try to distinguish any characteristic of blurry wall and blurry white and grey and a spot of red at what he guessed must be throat-height that would tell him it was Kenny. Now that they were threatening one of his idols' safety, though, his nature required him to offer Kenny a way out. "It's all right, Kenny," he told the older Gryffindor. "I'll be fine!"