late night snacks ;; open

[albus s. potter]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #C36241; background-image:url(http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt7/Sara_Shadow/PRIVATE/texture-orange.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] please , PLEASE, FORGIVE ME, BUT I WON'T BE HOME AGAIN. MAYBE SOMEDAY YOU'LL LOOK UP, AND BARELY CONSCIOUS, YOU'LL SAY TO NO ONE, "ISN'T SOMETHING MISSING?" YOU WON'T CRY FOR MY ABSENCE, I KNOW. YOU FORGOT ME LONG AGO. AM I SO UNIMPORTANT? AM I SO INSIGNIFICANT? ISN'T SOMETHING MISSING...? ISN'T SOMEONE . . .

[/size][/div]

missing me?

"Come, Kasamir," Albus said softly to the black cat that wound itself around his ankles. His familiar. Al didn't often venture the castle at night without the cat at his side. After all, bad things always tended to happen at night in the halls the last time the world was falling to shit if his family's recollections of it were correct. Plus, she could take care of any spiders or anything that might wander through the halls as well. Al wasn't heading too far, anyway, just to the kitchens. He used the secret entrance he'd been told about ages before, tickling the pear in the painting before moving into the exposed hallway. It was late and most everyone was sleeping, but Al couldn't quite do it. So, he decided to venture to the kitchens to get some hot chocolate while maybe drawing a little. Kasamir seemed perfectly content to play with a gnome that had wandered inside at some point, making Albus shake his head a little. He then looked to one of the house elves still hanging around and smiled a little. "Could I get some hot chocolate with some cinnamon, please?" he asked. He'd never been as fanatical about elves' rights as his aunt was known to be, but Al did what he could to make sure that the house elves were treated fairly and with respect. They worked just as hard, if not more so, as any wizard, after all. Why should they be treated like dirt just because they weren't human?

Shaking aside those thoughts, Al sat down on at one of the tables and opened his sketchbook to start working, only pausing to smile and thank the elf that brought him the ordered drink before starting in on the drawing again. The Potter boy absently toyed with his lip ring all the while, trying not to let his thoughts wander too far as he sat there, attempting to enjoy himself. However, each stroke of his pencil or sip of his drink brought his thoughts back to an essay that needed finished or some studying that needed to be done. The term had barely even started and Albus was already starting to stress himself out. It was going to be a long term, he could tell.

[/left]

379, OPEN, outfit, bleck. i hate starting posts.
MISSING by EVANESCENCE
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

[/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[fred a. weasley]

Fred Weasley made his way inside the great hall with his signature grin on his face. An hour previously, he had left with the Headmaster's clothing stuffed in a white plastic trash bag. Now he was entering with only an empty trash bag. The clothing was warming up the whomping willow. It was revenge for an unfair punishment that he had recived for somthing that he actually didn't do. He wanted to dump the bag, which was rustling and making more noise than it was worth, but that would be leaving behind evidence, and that simply could not be done. So Fred had rolled it up and held it ever so carefully in his hands, careful to not emit any noise.

In the end, though, Fred Weasley ended up being quite noisy. Not because of the bag, but because of his stomach, which was protesting it's emptiness. Loudly. Fred was surprised that a prefect hadn't come running towards him because of the rumbling it was making. Though he was, at first, going to ignore his stomach, go back to the Gryffindor tower, and sleep it off until the morning, he soon realized that would be impossible. Maybe skipping out on dinner so he would be able to pull this little prank off was the greatest of ideas. Maybe, Fred thought while making his way to a certain portrait of fruit, he should go and get himself something to eat the easy way.

He more or less ignored Albus, giving him a half-hearted absent-minded wave of a hand as he passed by him. He was a teenaged boy, and he was hungry. There wasn't much else on his mind besides food. He cleared his throat, then called out to the house elves in his rather low voice. "Oi, you House Elves! How about some leftovers from the shepard's pie last night?"[/color] he called out loudly, and to none in particular. It was after this that he actually noticed Albus. Not that it was hard to miss him. He stood out a good bit from others in either of their years. He cocked him head towards him, grinned, rubbed his belly, and said "Albus, er, sorry about that mate. I'm just right hungry and, well, you know how hunger can be."[/b] Fred was trying to appear good natured. He and Albus didn't exactly talk a lot, and they didn't see each other all that often, but there was a time when they were pretty good mates.

Now, though, Fred thought it'd be a perfect time to reconnect with him. So he walked over and sat across from him, giving only a second's galce at the paper ALbus was drwaing on, before saying "So, what are you doing down here?" Fred's stomach, as if on cue, rumbled. Fred gave a sheepish grin.

Notes: I'm not particularly good at starting posts.
Word Count: 466
Mood: Excited!

[albus s. potter]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #C36241; background-image:url(http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt7/Sara_Shadow/PRIVATE/texture-orange.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] please , PLEASE, FORGIVE ME, BUT I WON'T BE HOME AGAIN. MAYBE SOMEDAY YOU'LL LOOK UP, AND BARELY CONSCIOUS, YOU'LL SAY TO NO ONE, "ISN'T SOMETHING MISSING?" YOU WON'T CRY FOR MY ABSENCE, I KNOW. YOU FORGOT ME LONG AGO. AM I SO UNIMPORTANT? AM I SO INSIGNIFICANT? ISN'T SOMETHING MISSING...? ISN'T SOMEONE . . .

[/size][/div]

missing me?

Al really had no idea how long he sat there, alternating between drawing and taking sips of his drink while Kasamir ran around the kitchen entertaining himself before he suddenly had a lap-full of cat, causing him to blink and look toward the door only to see his cousin, Fred, as he called out into the room, making the younger teen raise an eyebrow slightly. He absently scratched under her chin, earning himself a warm purr in response. "Mmhmm," was all Albus really had to say in response. The Potter boy wasn't known for being overly talkative, often finding it difficult to even get a sentence out, but it was worse with people like Fred. That was meaning someone he used to be close to but no longer was. It was difficult for him because, well, obviously he had done something wrong along the line if someone he had been close to was distant. Of course, Al thought it was fairly obvious what his crime had been. Fred was a Gryffindor through and through, while Al was a Slytherin. Despite the outcome of the last war, there was still a lingering feud there.

When Fred asked him what he was doing down there, Albus gestured to his sketchbook and his almost finished mug of hot chocolate with the hand that wasn't petting his familiar. "Couldn't sleep," was his simple answer. He was no longer close to Fred, so why divulge his problems to the guy? Sure, if Fred were willing to share his own issues, Al would help in any way he could and would keep the information to himself, but that didn't mean that he, himself was going to do the same in return. Al was just that way and he didn't really know why, but didn't think it was worth dwelling on too much. "Do you always come into the kitchens like you own the place late at night?" The question wasn't said bitterly, like one would think the words would be, but merely curious. It wasn't an insult or anything, just the way Fred had spoken when he walked in reminded him of some wealthy land owner or something. Sometimes, Fred could be kind of annoying, but Albus was sure that many thought the same of him, too. Plus, the guy was family. Wasn't family supposed to get on your nerves?

[/left]

394, OPEN/FRED, outfit, starters suck. sorry for the failness of this. i promise a better post next time.
MISSING by EVANESCENCE
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

[/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[fred a. weasley]

Fred was confused by Albus. When he had sleepless nights, he did more constructive things with them than drawing. Actually, even when Fred didn't have a sleepless night be did more constructive things than dawing, but that was besides the point. It seemed like since Albus was sorted into Slytherin, he'd become three loads more boring. Seriously, drawing? Talk about a waste of time. He couldn't exactly make out what Albus was drawing, but there was no way that it could be even slightly as fun and important as what Fred had done outside with the clothing of the Head Master. Honestly, without Fred, the school would never find out that the Head Master had a floral shirt worthy of American tourists. Without Albus and his art, well, the world wouldn't be all that much different, right? No offense to the guy, of course. Seperate ways didn't mean hating him.

Albus's question was a bit rough, in Fred's opinion, but he didn't seem to be attempting to be an arse. Still, from across the table, Fred shrugged. "Well, no, I only come here after a good night of pissing around."[/b] Fred said, giving a michevious smile at the thought of his little stunt. "But for when I do come in here at night, right, I act like I own the place. They like it, you know. And when they're happy, they get the food quicker." Just as he finished talking, a bowl of Shepard's Pie was set in front of him on the table. Fred knew that, had his aunt been there, she would've been beyong mad about that statement. The thought of her going on one of her tirades almost brought anoither signature smile on, but Fred was....

Wait. What? Fred rose slightly from his seat to get a better view.

What was Albus doing with his hand? ... Was that a cat? A cat? Albus's cat? Last Fred checked, Al's cat was just like every other cat in the world: it hated him. Fred could just see it plotting to attack him and rip him to shreads. As if on cue, it meowed. Oh, Merlin have mercy. Fred was about to be killed, in the kitchen, after hours, with only his Slytherin cousin as a witness. The odds were not in his favor. "Errr... Al. Is that man-eating beast of yours de-clawed, or de-toothed, or de-something? Because, I sort of like my face the way it is, helps me complete with Louis when it comes to the ladies." Fred hadn't taken a bite of the Shepard's pie, because doing that would mean taking his eyes off the cat, and that was simply not an option. Though he sat down, he kept his eyes alert and was ready to jump whenever it was needed.

Notes: This should be fun.
Word Count: 462
Mood: Absolutely Terrified

[albus s. potter]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; border-left: 20px solid #C36241; background-image:url(http://i592.photobucket.com/albums/tt7/Sara_Shadow/PRIVATE/texture-orange.jpg); padding-left: 10px; padding-bottom: 20px;] please , PLEASE, FORGIVE ME, BUT I WON'T BE HOME AGAIN. MAYBE SOMEDAY YOU'LL LOOK UP, AND BARELY CONSCIOUS, YOU'LL SAY TO NO ONE, "ISN'T SOMETHING MISSING?" YOU WON'T CRY FOR MY ABSENCE, I KNOW. YOU FORGOT ME LONG AGO. AM I SO UNIMPORTANT? AM I SO INSIGNIFICANT? ISN'T SOMETHING MISSING...? ISN'T SOMEONE . . .

[/size][/div]

missing me?

Albus sighed inaudibly at Fred's comment about the house elves, but he didn't say anything. Of course they "liked" it. Their entire race had been treated so horribly for so long, they didn't know the difference anymore, but Al wasn't about to fight the issue. It wasn't worth the energy, in his eyes. There were other things more important, especially at the current time. So, to keep himself from commenting, Albus just focused on finishing the last of his hot chocolate before resuming the sketch he was working on. It might not have been as noteworthy as whatever epic prank Fred had done, nor as productive, but that's not why he drew. He drew so that he wasn't being productive because all he did all the bloody time was school work and trying to keep up and do the best and.... The teen sighed inaudibly again, pushing aside those thoughts. He'd come to the kitchen to escape those, not to dwell on them.

A faint smirk formed on the dark haired boy's lips at his friend's scared comment, unable to hold back a snicker. "Not scared of a little old cat, are ya, Freddie?" He couldn't help but antagonize his cousin a bit. He was partially a Weasley, after all. "This 'man-eating beast' of mine is neither, thank you. How else would he keep himself fed?" Al raised an eyebrow faintly in question. He flicked his hair out of his eyes, glancing down to his familiar, who was still purring away in his lap as he stroked her silky fur. He knew Kasamir wouldn't do such a thing to Fred unless she felt threatened of she felt that Albus himself was in danger, something she'd proven before by jumping on one of his house mates when the other boy tried to sucker punch him the other day. Even, if not especially, in his own house, Al wasn't too popular. After all, he was the son of the man who saved the wizarding world. Why would a majority of the Slytherins accept him? Sure, there were plenty of those who did, probably more so than those that didn't, actually. But people had power in numbers. "She won't hurt you, Fred, not unless she feels that she or I am threatened. She's happy right now, anyway." Sometimes Al felt like Kasamir was his closest friend, as sad as it might be. Oh well, he guessed there wasn't too much he could do about it.

[/left]

411, OPEN/FRED, outfit, starters suck. sorry for the failness of this. i promise a better post next time.
MISSING by EVANESCENCE
made by ANYA of caution 2.0

[/td][/tr][/td][/tr][/table][/center]

[fred a. weasley]

Fred didn't really reply to Albus's taunt. He took a careful bite of his Shepard's pie, keeping his eyes alert at all times and had his free hand on his wand, which was tucked carefully in between his waistband as to not poke him or snap itself. He could just hear the demon's purring. Sure, some would take that as a sign of happiness on the beast's part, but Fred knew better. It was the sound it's evil, satanic mind made when it was planning someone's brutal and untimely demise. Fred started going through a list of the spells he knew, and decided maybe a water-dousing charm would be his best hope for defense. Cats hated water, right? Fred hoped he was right. If he wasn't, it was fair to say he was defenseless.

Fred looked at Al like his question was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. "Ummm.. The Magical Menagerie has some cat food for sale you know. So, you know, you can get your hell spawn cat fixed up so it's safe to be in society while still being able to feed it." Sure, the grub at the Magical Menagerie wasn't the best, and according to one of his ex-girlfriends, the products there made her little monster sick, but those little furballs were worse than a group of Cornish Pixies when they clawed. Fred almost wanted to deliver a nice, swift slap to Albus's head. Not because he was mad at him, but because someone needed to smack sense into the lad. Seriously, what the heck type of animal was a cat anyways? It didn't really help people in any way, shape, ir form, and only generally caused trouble. Even toads were more useful, as they were great for practicing transfiguration on and even better for scaring the jumpers off of people.

He snorted in disbelief. How could he honestly believe that she was harmless? "No, mate, just look at it! It's scheming as we speak!" Fred stood up at it, and pointed at her to add to his point. Remembering the whole 'she'll only attacked if threatened' thing, though, he sat his arse down imediately after that. Stupid Albus and his feline fatale.

A question made it's way into Fred's head. He wan't sure how to ask it exactly, and he had a small feeling that maybe Albus would be ticked if he asked it seeing as James seemed to be quite the ladies magnet while Albus hadn't even had one girlfriend as far as Fred knew or cared. But, hey, it was Fred, and he just wouldn't be himself if the fear of pissing someone off kept him from saying something that was one his mind. "So why do you tote that thing around with you? As a chick magnet of something? Because, I'd hate to break it to you mate, but she isn't going to be getting you any funbags any time in the near future." He made a gesture with his hand as if he were juggling some funbags in front of his own chest to further his point.

Notes:
Word Count: 513
Mood: Curious/frightened