Slytherin Table

Of course he was late, fashionaly late? No, just late. Patricio carefully opened the doors to the Great Hall, after the new First years came in of course, and walked after them, towards his seat at the Slytherkn table. He glared at the back of a certakn Brazilian's head, noticing how he flirted with a filthy first year..! He stopped, calming himself down, before he walked towards his table once more.

Upon passing Raimundo, he pushed his head down, noticing that he was about to fall asleep, and smirked as he looked over his shoulder at him. What an idiot, he thought to himself while avoicein the back of his head whispered Then why do you like him? He frowned, not liking that voice, and willed it away before laying his head down to sleep. Who cares about First years anyway?

This was a hell of a way to start off the year.

He saw the fifth year Gryffindor flicking ice towards their table and he watched from the corner of his eye as his white haired house mate stood and crossed over to the other table, having apparently been successfully hit. He knew he should intervene and call the boy back, but for once, he pretended not to notice. His brother was among the first years and he wasn’t interested in missing the sorting over a little table hopping. The Gryffindor prefects could handle it.

Arthur’s attention had been focused on the ceremony. Like a good student, he had listened to the Headmaster’s speech, had refrained from eating during the sorting, and had given an internal nod of approval when his little brother officially joined him as a member of Slytherin and ensured the that the full set of Kirkland siblings belonged to the same house. Not that Arthur had doubted that Peter would be one of them, but confirmation was nice.

As Peter climbed off the stool, the middle Kirkland happened a subtle glance at the Ravenclaw table, catching a glimpse of his fellow prefect among them. Arthur kept his face from showing any sign of happy recognition. He couldn’t risk even the slightest clue that could lead others to suspect he had anything but contempt for the other boy. It was safest that way. Later, when there were no prying eyes around, they could have a proper reunion. But until then, he would have to settle for stolen glances.

His attention was drawn away from the Ravenclaw table after only a few seconds by collected laughter and the unmistakable sound of someone taking a fall. He turned to see Peter plopped on the floor in between the Gryffindor and Slytherin tables. It didn’t take long for Arthur to realize what must have happened, going by the pieces of ice still on the floor. He shot a furious glance at De Costa, the boy who had been throwing the ice. Arthur may not have been the most openly affectionate brother, but he was not prepared to tolerate someone’s foolishness making a Kirkland look like a clumsy oaf. His mind was already racing with ways in which to get retribution, since as a prefect, he could deduct points and assign detentions. Not to mention the fair amount of hexes he knew.

He was thankful that his housemates were at least treating Peter with understanding after that. The didn’t laugh as much as the other houses. Arthur even overheard his one whisper words that sounded encouraging to Peter. Lovino was not Arthur’s absolute favorite among his dorm mates (his cat was a pain in the ass) but he had to appreciate the sentiment. However it would be hard to tell how Peter would take the words. He had pride, just like the rest of the Kirklands. He could willingly accept kind words or scorn them in this time of humiliation.

Arthur was going to have to choose his words carefully if he wanted to offer his own support, which as a brother, he was obligated to do. He scooted closer to the boy, leaning his head down close so that only Peter would be able to hear him. “Good. Stay strong and don’t let it get to you. You are a Kirkland and you must remain proud whatever happens.” He really was impressed with the way in which Peter handled the embarrassment. No crying, no angry yelling, no running from the room. But Arthur couldn’t outright say that, so the pep talk would have to suffice.

He didn’t really get to see if Peter accepted his words, though, as there was a ruckus coming from the Gryffindor table and Arthur caught sight of jello flying through the air out of the corner of his eye. He turned to see a group at the rival table engaged in what was unmistakably a food fight. Arthur scowled in disgust at the display. Had these damned Gryffindor’s no sense of decency and pride? Did they think themselves above showing respect and dignity? This was the sorting feast for Christ’s sake! It was an important occasion! And the filthy scum were treating it like their own personal party. It was unacceptable!

Arthur was just about to fly into a rage when McGonagall beat him to it. This was ultimately for the best, as she could take away more points and assign more severe detentions than he could. But still he lamented the chance to lay into those damned Gryffindors himself. The nerve of them!

Arthur shot daggers with a glare at the Gryffindor’s as they filed out of the room, memorizing who the guilty parties were, particularly that one who had been throwing the ice. He would find a way to get some vindication, of that he was sure. His brother was proud and managed to keep his embarrassment in check, just as Arthur expected of him. No less that he would have expected from himself. But the point was, Peter shouldn’t have had to have his confidence tested so early, not more than two minutes after being sorted. Those troublemakers had cost Peter his first impression to the school at large, and Arthur felt that a dismissal and a detention were not justice enough.

He felt a piece of paper brush against his hand and blinked down, casting a glance at its source, his upperclassman Gabriel, a seventh year and relation to the Gryffindor that Arthur placed the most blame on. Brother of half brother or something, he lost track. Half the Latins at this school seemed to be related in one way or another. Not that he could judge in that aspect since his family was rather prevalent on Hogwarts grounds as well.

He read the note and frowned, shaking his head slightly at Gabriel in exasperation. He pulled a quill from his pocket and hastily scrawled a response:

Yes, your idiot brother. There is no excuse for that kind of childishness from a 5th year, even if he is a Gryffindor. You should put a leash on him.

He passed the note back, not looking at Gabriel as he read it. Arthur had a feeling that he was pushing it by insulting his upperclassman’s brother openly, but damnit, he was still irritated enough not to really care.

The boy who had been the original target of the ice returned to the table. Arthur debated for a moment just how much blame should be put on him. Surely if he didn’t associate so openly with Gryffindors, such a thing would not have happened to begin with. He thought that regression hex might be punishment enough, but it seemed his sister disagreed, for she was already on him. Arthur didn’t often get along well with Una, but he had to respect the way she handled her position as head girl and the way that, like him, she seemed to be quite perturbed by what had happened to their little brother. She was still a bleeding banshee woman, though. Arthur was content to let her deal with Patricio, confident that she would let him have it.

Arthur happened another stolen glance at the Ravenclaw table under the guise of scanning the room. The momentary sight of Kiku was enough to still his anger and make him relax again. Kiku was usually good for keeping Arthur grounded when his temper flared or his pride ran away with him. Kiku was good for a lot of things, actually. Arthur gave a small sigh as he saw Kiku conversing with Hercules at their table, envy eating silently at his insides because he couldn’t do something so simple as to talk to the other boy in public like the Greek could. He couldn’t even get away with treating him civilly. Being anything but nasty to him would put both of them at risk, as much as Arthur hated it. Of course, he always apologized when they had a moment alone. He idly wondered if Kiku would think to meet him in the Prefects bathroom when their duties were over. He hoped so. Not being able to openly communicate or even notice one another made it difficult to make plans.

Peter finally seemed to be coming out of the shell he had curled into upon his embarrassment, and that was a relief. At least he was looking around again and not staring at the same spot anymore. He had a fleeting urge to pat the younger boy on the back encouragingly, but that was not the sort of thing either of them cared to do in the public eye. It implied that there was a need for encouragement, and no Kirkland admitted to any shred of weakness around anyone but those in their absolute confidence, however slight or understandable it might be. They were that proud.

He settled for assuming his regular, publicly acceptable brotherly role, telling himself that he would check on how Peter was really doing when they had a moment together later in the common room. He spooned some Sheppard’s pie into his plate and pushed the dish Peter’s way. “Eat,” he said with his naturally somewhat authoritative tone, one that Peter was doubtlessly used to, but one he could now take with his fellow students as a Prefect. “This feast is to celebrate your sorting and to welcome you to Hogwarts. It’s your moment, enjoy it.”

Valentina watched as some Gryffindors came out of the Great Hall, their heads ducked and looked as if they just ahd a food war. Not to long ago, though, she saw her Beater run to the bathrooms. How strange.. She missed everything good that was going on, it wasn't fair, at all.

Alright, so she was right about the food war. The feast supposedly was a catastrophe after she left to search the halls. People slipped on ice- poor Peter - Gryffindors started a food fight, Patricio disgraced the Gryffindors openly and at their own table, too! Maybe that was why he had ran out..

He was surely going to get one heck of a training session, he'd be dodging bludgers for days for making her look bad- well, not directly, but since he showed such insolence and insubordination, it almost made it seem as though she wasn't a good captain, and she couldn't have that, now, could she? Absolutely not. 

Valentina, or Val to a select few, crossed her arms as she walked into the Great Hall after dealing with the exchange student, Francis. She gave the Gryffindors a disapproving glance and shook her head, tutting silently to herself.

'Absolutely unacceptable' she thought to herself before walking towards her seat. She passed by Arthur, clapping him on the back, before passing by Peter. She ruffled his hair, smiling lightly, before taking a seat next to Gabriel. She observed Una as she whispered to Patricio, no doubt telling him to leave.

And would you look at that, when she pulled away he had bowed his head, stood up quickly, and walked out of the Great Hall. What she didn't know though, was that dear Andrea had cast a hex on him. She heard murmurs about Patricio's voice changing pitch when she was walking to her sear but she would have to find out later when she had the time.

The Colombian Prefect watched her neighbor, her Chaser, Gabriel out of the corner of her eye. Obnoxious, like always, but oh so caring. A small smile graced her face before she turned to look at Una. She watched the girl's facial expression, seeing the anger there, and tilted her head to the side. Surely Patricio's little slip up couldn't have made her so livid, could it?

It dawned on her that it was peobably because Peter slipped on the ice and most likely hurt himself. Poor little guy! And maybe that was why she was acting so.. Hostile towards Patricio, he probably instigated it, or something like that. Valentina gulped lowly, reaching up to mess with her earring. At least this helped her calm herself down a little.

Turning to Gabriel, she tapped him on the shoulder before asking how Patricio's voice had sounded. 

"Was Pat's voice higher or lower than usual?" She wanted to visualize it in her head, maybe listen to it later that night when he getting it handed to him by Una. That girl just needed to rant to someone and punish them.

'Too bad I already have two Beaters or else I would have offered if she wanted to take out her anger that way.' She said, mentally chuckling to herself. Oh, how she made herself laugh sometimes.[list=1][*]

He relaxed some when Peter started eating, satisfied that the embarrassment and anger that the boy had surely been feeling had settled down. Arthur was glad the situation had been defused quickly. It would do no good for a Kirkland to lose his temper at the welcoming feast. Of course, that applied to himself as well, so he had to keep his urge to go find the Gryffindor’s and curse the smirks right of their faces in check. Though just the thought of doing so brought a smile to his face. Thankfully his little cousin was being sorted at that time, so no one would suspect the vengeful thoughts that were really going through his mind.

Predictibly, she was made a Slytherin as well. Since her branch of the family was very like his own, Arthur was not surprised and, it seemed, nor was anyone else in the room. He clapped for her and gave a respectful nod as she sat down next to Peter. He had only just started to eat when he had to stop and frown at the topic of conversation they had begun upon. He gave Peter a slight nudge in the ribs with his elbow and gave the pair of them a stern look. “Save that sort of talk for the common room,” he muttered. “This is not the appropriate time, nor place, less you’ve already forgotten what happened to the bloke who went on about pureblood supremacy earlier.” He gestured with a nod of his head towards the exit of the Great Hall were his cursed housemate had exited. Arthur didn’t believe for a second that it would be Una to do such a thing, but she wasn’t the only one with a position of authority. Arthur did not want to see Peter embarrassing himself or the family by getting lectured by one of the mixed blood prefects that might happen to overhear him or worse, start another fight going.

Though from the sound of Antonio’s voice, that was exactly what the Spaniard was looking for. Little early in the year to be on the aggressive, but Antonio was like that sometimes and in this case, Arthur didn’t really mind. He wasn’t aware that his friend had stolen a look at his note, not that he would have cared, but it was hardly necessary to make such an observation. He thought for a moment how glad he was that he didn’t have such half-blood filth as a relative and how Da Costa was a perfect example of why those of pure decent were superior.

And then he felt instantly guilty for it and tried extra purposefully to avoid looking at Kiku’s table. In the year since he had been secretly seeing Kiku, Arthur had been trying to take steps to be more accepting, though not openly, of course, that would be social suicide….and maybe more. The fact was his boyfriend (and the truth of having one alone would be cause for scandal) was muggleborn and as attached to his heritage as Arthur was to his own. And that sometimes made things strained to say the least. Arthur had come a long way in his acceptance, but there was still far to go. He could smile at Kiku’s occasional use of muggle pencils and notebooks instead of quill and parchment for their quaint appeal even though he preferred his own methods, and the two of them could discuss muggle literature for hours. But the muggle vs. wizard issue was often a hot button topic that Arthur tried to avoid when speaking with Kiku. And of course when among other students, he had to vehemently agree with the viewpoints of his fellow Slytherins regardless of how he really felt. Today, however, it was hard not to see the validity of that opinion. Not with the uproar caused by those half-bloods and blood traitors…It made Arthur wonder – not for the first time – if Kiku were merely an exception to the rule.

He gave a convincing grin in Antonio’s direction before turning his attention towards Gabriel’s response. Arthur sighed and shook his head. He’d calmed down enough that he didn’t really feel quite like blowing someone up and it helped that the sources of his aggravation were out of the room, but he wasn’t inclined to let anybody off the hook and he felt that the Gryffindor’s intentions, whatever they may have been, were irrelevant if the outcome had been the embarrassment of a member of his family. He picked his quill back up and scrawled a response.

I’m not blowing anybody up…..Tonight.

He pushed the note back and turned his attention back to his own food, half eavesdropping in while Valentina and Gabriel spoke, though he couldn’t resist putting in his own opinion. “Patricio’s a git for associating with the Gryffindor’s, but they were instigators here. I saw Da Costa flinging ice and that’s what started the whole mess.” His anger flared again for a moment but it died away quickly and he merely scoffed. “And you’re damned right I would have their heads. They’re just lucky McGonagall got to them first. I hope she has something dreadful in mind for them. Make them clean out all the loos or something.”

He took a big bite of his Sheppard’s pie and turned his attention back towards Antonio, a mischievous smile spreading over his face. “Still, a Slytherin was cursed by a Gryffindor tonight. House pride would seem to require counter-actions be taken. Though as a prefect, I, of course could not participate in nor condone such an act. But if someone else were to take such initiative, I certainly could not blame them for it.” He gave the Spaniard a knowing look. Between the two of them, they probably knew more curses than the entirety of their previous four years worth of Defense Against the Dark Arts books. And if his friend was feeling in the mood for trouble, well, it was a good idea to steer it in the right direction.