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Crazy Random Happenstance
Topic Started: Oct 17 2010, 06:00 PM (326 Views)
Frederick McNamara


Frederick did not at all get Riordan Cole.

It wasn’t like he detested the bloke or anything, Cole did have his moments and all in all he wasn’t a bad guy – he was just a royal pain in the ass. He was a ball of energy, crude jokes, lame puns and juvenile pranks, interspersed with the few random moments where he was actually calm – that was until he needed Fred’s help with his homework and the incessant pestering started anew. Fred couldn’t really recount the amount of times Cole had tried to force feed him alcohol, try to get him to loosen up or hook him up with random chicks for shits and giggles – all for his own amusement more than to help Fred get out of his shell.

Having him as dorm mate certainly wasn’t a piece of cake. Wasn’t like ignoring him was going to do any good.

Didn’t stop Fred from trying. Which was why, as soon as he’d heard Cole come up to the dorm in his usual boisterous manner – although being able to hear him from a mile away was definitely an advantage in this situation – he quickly grabbed a random school book from his bedside counter and buried his face in it. He was reading, damn it. He didn’t want to be disturbed, thank you very much.

“You do know you’re holding that book upside-down, right?” Rior’s drawling voice intoned from somewhere above him.

Well, crap.

Reluctantly pulling his gaze from the book to meet the mischievous ‘up-to-no-good’ brown eyes of Rior, he shot the boy a half-hearted glare and lifted his chin. Rior only shook his head with a laugh. “I must say, your attempts at trying to get rid of me are getting more pathetic every time. You know, if you don’t want me to bother you, you’d only have to tell me.”

Fred only rolled his eyes at the pun, lifting his eyebrow as if to tell Rior his attempts at humour also got more pathetic every time the boy opened his mouth.

This was of course entirely lost on Riordan - the boy couldn’t read facial expressions to save his life. Probably the fact that he was so self-included, Fred thought rather spitefully. No, all he got for his trouble was Rior grabbing his arm rather forcefully and pulling him off the bed. “I have something better in store for you than a book, my man,” he exclaimed. It did not bode well for Frederick.

“I’m going to introduce you to my twin sister.”

Frederick froze.

Of all the things he had expected, it wasn’t this. In fact, he hadn’t even known Riordan had a twin sister. A sister, yeah, but not that they were twins.

Twins.

Rior still had what Fred so desperately wanted back – even after six years, he still missed his brother every day.

Digging his heels into the floor, he pulled his arm out of Rior’s grasp forcefully, the skin around his eyes tightening and his jaw setting as he shook his head stiffly. “Aw come on, Freddy,” Frederick’s eyes flashed at the nickname, hands itching to push – but it was yet again lost on Riordan. “I’m sure you and Mags will get along smashingly.” In Rior-speak this probably meant they were going to be polar opposites and he was just doing this, setting them up, for his own sordid amusement. And Fred suddenly felt sorry for Rior’s sister – even though the idea of a second Cole, especially one who was a twin to Riordan made him shudder. And what sort of a name was Mags anyway? Still, it couldn’t be particularly easy being Rior’s sister.

He would only have to survive Riordan for about seven years. This girl probably her entire life. It deserved some respect indeed.

So it was with a reluctant sigh that he allowed himself to be dragged out of his dorm and through the common room, Rior’s arm slung around his shoulder, forcefully holding Fred under his arm. In the end, Fred thought, it would probably just be for one time only – Rior lost interest rather quickly if it wasn’t interesting enough to hold his attention. If Fred would try to get along with Rior’s sister, it would go fine.

He hoped.

It was really quite a pain Riordan was quite a bit stronger than him. A kick in the shin had little to no effect – he should know, it wasn’t like he hadn’t tried before.

“Oh Magdalena,” Rior suddenly cried out in his typical sing-song ‘I’m going to annoy the piss out of you’ voice and then they were suddenly standing in front of a girl with curly brown hair and lovely hazel eyes – Fred reluctantly thought everything about her was rather lovely from a first view – who was staring at Riordan with a rather wary look in her eyes.

It made Fred smile – just a small twitch of his lips upwards, but considering how he almost never smiled, it was almost a full blown grin for his standards. “This is Frederick,” Fred blinked up at her from his position under Rior’s arm, face settling into a rather sardonic grimace and hoping that she would be a little more adept at reading facial expressions than her brother.

“He is mute," an evil-looking smile spread over his face, "I thought you could be the best of friends.”

Fred really didn’t like the glee in Riordan’s voice.
Edited by Frederick McNamara, Oct 17 2010, 06:03 PM.
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Magdalena Cole
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There was nothing else in the entire world that Magdalena Cole despised more than her twin brother.

Snakes (both the reptile and young wizards whose house took the creature from its namesake) and green vegetables ran a close tie for second, but her greatest dislike had always made itself more than clear. Not because she had been lumped with Riordan, nor had she been jealous of the possibility of him being the better twin - he wasn’t. Naturally, Alex was the golden child of the family. She didn’t even the hate the kid because he was her brother. No, her dislike stemmed from the fact that even when they were little, Riordan had made it his personal mission to make her life a living hell.

If they weren’t related, she would have been flattered. The boys in primary school who had crushes on her took to playing childish pranks -stealing her juice at naptime, chased her around at recess trying to land a kiss-, that, to be fair, only lasted a few years. Riordan had been present her whole life, save for the meager seven minutes separating their birth, and terrorized her ever since. The stupid git only grew smarter with age - upping the ante from putting garden slugs down the back of her shorts to spiking her pumpkin juice and setting her loose among the Slytherins. Gareth had helped her out of several tight binds, thankfully, but that was by no means an excuse to let Rior get off with all the trouble he caused. Trouble that only seemed to get worse with time.

Like this setting her up with random strangers nonsense, for instance. Honestly, there were times when she hadn’t at all minded, even received a bang for her buck (pun intended) out of the deal, but the act itself was growing rather tiring. As it must’ve done for her potential “suitors” too - there weren’t many out there who could tolerate her constant sarcasm-filled chatter, much less the personality accompanying it to complete the package deal. To the innocent bystander, Mags had the persona of a cartoon character come to life. The loud voice, doe eyes…hell, today she’d even dressed as a modernized version of Alice and Wonderland’s Queen of Hearts, complete with black and red tulle dress and a miniature tiara. No one ever attempted to prove her legitimate sanity, certain that it just didn’t exist.

This new victim, pinned under the arm of her approaching brother, would just be someone else to judge the fact.

Wincing as the sing-song ‘Oh Magdalenaaaaa’ filtered through her ears, Mags pulled herself to her feet from the previous position of lying down on the top steps. “Oi, asshat! Do you mind? I was sunbathing.” In a random act of childish frustration, the older twin wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at her brother. Riordan merely chuckled at the gesture, his own eyes sparkling as her own expression changed to one of wariness in regards to the captured blond.

”This is Frederick.”

Dear Lord, he’d hired this kid to be a part of one of his many infamous schemes. This Frederick, she’d seen him in passing before - nice enough for a Slytherin, but deadly quiet. Killer instincts kicking into overdrive indicated the possibility of a set-up, changing her expression from mock silliness to genuine concern. Not only for herself, but for Frederick - and not because his head currently hovered dangerously close to a foul-smelling armpit. “McNamara, right? I think we have Potions together. You sit near the back so that the professor will never call on you…look, however many Galleons he’s paying you to try and go out with me, I’ll double it.” The evil mastermind had something or other up his sleeve, and Mags didn’t like it.

Seconds passing, the punch line finally hit her like a ton of bricks. Mute. Obviously they wouldn’t be able to stand each other for very long - most likely she’d be driving him to the point of insanity within a few moments and he’d go running off. Lovely.

At her offer, Riordan merely raised an eyebrow amused. “Maggie darling, you know I’d never do that to you! I’m not paying Freddy here a single Knut, but if you’d like to charge him for your…services, then so be it.”

As predicted, something inside of her suddenly snapped.

“What’s the matter, Rior? I mean, I know you get lonely sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t employ the use of your hand,” she challenged, eyes falling to the blonde’s rather pained expression briefly before lifting back up to meet the condescending gaze of he twin. “Leave the poor bloke alone.”

The words were followed by a rather powerful shove on her part, pushing Riordan out of earshot and praying he remained solitary. Mags was small, sure, but she was strong - a general preference of using brute force to magic after one too many wand backfiring incidents.

“Sorry about my brother, love. Now, where we exactly?”
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Frederick McNamara


It became clear pretty quickly that the relationship between Magdelena and Riordan was nothing like what he and John had had. He would've never talked to his twin like Magdalena was currently talking to her brother and John would've never pulled the stunts Riordan liked to pull on his sister or indeed on everyone around him. It was simply unthinkable. Then again, Riordan and John were nothing alike either - Frederick couldn't really imagine having a twin brother like Riordan. Or rather, the hell it must be for his sister.

If he thought about it, he actually really didn't like Riordan Cole - he tolerated him at best. And with the way Magdalena was sticking up for him, wounded ego aside, he automatically decided he would reserve judgment on her until he got to know her better. If he got to know her better at all.

Right now, he simply listened to their exchange of words, still stuck under Riordan's arm. “McNamara, right? I think we have Potions together. You sit near the back so that the professor will never call on you…look, however many Galleons he’s paying you to try and go out with me, I’ll double it.” Frederick gave a tiny shrug of his shoulder - one that undoubtedly went by unnoticed due to the position he was standing in - and went to shake his head to signalize Riordan wasn't paying him anything, he simply didn't really get any choice in the matter, when Riordan replied from somewhere above him.

“Maggie darling, you know I’d never do that to you! I’m not paying Freddy here a single Knut, but if you’d like to charge him for your…services, then so be it.”

Fred's mouth twisted in silent disgust - both at the condenscation in the boy's voice as at the implication of his words. Calling his own sister a whore, it went against everything Frederick had been thought by his parents at a young age, or any time really. Not to forget that no one but John had been allowed to call him Freddy and Riordan kept on doing it. His eyes narrowing to two small slits of green, he was about to force his way out from under the boy's arm when suddenly Magdalena spoke up again, voice harsh.

“What’s the matter, Rior? I mean, I know you get lonely sometimes, but that doesn’t mean you couldn’t employ the use of your hand,” she challenged, eyes falling to the blonde’s rather pained expression briefly before lifting back up to meet the condescending gaze of he twin. “Leave the poor bloke alone.” And with that, she did something what Fred had been itching to do for a long time already.

The girl had quite a bit of strenght hidden inside that petite frame of her.

With Riordan gone, Frederick finally got the time to really look at Magdalena - and the first thing he noticed (he couldn't really understand how he had overlooked it the first time) - was her red and black tule dress. She reminded Frederick of a cartoon character - John would've probably loved it. So would he have, had he still been who he used to be. Despite the rather weird choice in clothing, Frederick couldn't deny she was gorgeous in an understated way - perhaps not a natural beauty, but there was something alluring about her. Something mischievous.

That cheeky look about her reminded him that, despite attitude and appearance aside, she was still Riordan's sister - a fact he wouldn't want to forget.

“Sorry about my brother, love. Now, where were we exactly?”

Fred cocked his head to the side at the question and pulled a suffering expression, as if to say 'sorry you have to put up with him'. He hoped Riordan wouldn't give him shit for this this evening - Fred actually liked getting sleep. Or even worse, if Riordan asked him about the details. Another lame pun on the fact that he couldn't talk. Didn't want to talk.

Looking back over his shoulder to the direction Rior had disappeared to, he turned back to look at Magdalena and with a small lift of his lips, he tapped his index finger against his temple three times before holding out his hand to shake. Perhaps the girl didn't want anything to do with someone who wouldn't talk - even though she didn't know it was intentional. Perhaps she would turn out to be an annoying little chatterbox. It never hurt being polite, though.

Nodding at the stairs, he raised his eyebrows. A silent question as to what she had been doing before her brother had rudely interrupted her. Reaching up, he smoothed down his collar that was still sticking up slightly.



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Magdalena Cole
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“Ooh, I love charades!” Open mouth, insert foot. Riordan aside, Magdalena was free to drop her guard and as usual, it only seemed to bring embarrassment. Not that she cared, or even noticed, fixated instead on the elfin-like blond standing in front of her, poking at his temple. “Let me guess, you’re thinking, therefore intelligent - a genius of some sort? Albert Einstein? Marie Curie? That bloke who discovered radium?” Whether hot or cold, they hadn’t exactly begun to make progress. In a return gesture of politeness she shook his hand when it had been offered. No doubt squeezing a little too tight so as to bring forth some minor discomfort. A wonderful start, indeed. Not.

So he wasn’t much of a talker. Mags could deal with that - actions most often spoke louder than words anyways. Of course, chatting the boy up would make no easy feat if there wasn’t an exchange of conversation to be had. Bit like talking to a brick wall. A moving, breathing brick wall. Perhaps she was being too judgmental - there was almost something endearing about the unreciprocated conversation, his silence suggesting a concealed secret or painful shyness. Adorable, really. That and those lovely green eyes of his, not looking unlike two oceans she could easily get lost in…

Perhaps she ought to get off that train of thought now. Having only just been properly introduced to McNamara, there was no point in scaring him off straight away.

“Oi vey,” she muttered underneath her breath, out of frustration or a complete disregard of taking Riordan seriously for once. Of one thing she was sure, her attempts to make conversation with the moving portraits were more successful than trying to get something out of this Frederick character. An instant paranoia hit her - maybe he wasn’t speaking because she bored him to tears! And in the act of silence, assumed she’d just give up and leave! Her shoulders fell with discouragement at the thought, the corners of her lips turning downwards into a frown. “I know I’m no flawless beauty. I may not be the best actress either, but if you think I’m so very unappealing and dull, all you have to do is say so.” An unintentional pun, but with her mouth moving a mile a minute, there was no way in hell Magdalena could’ve realized the blunder. After all, the girl was notorious for speaking on impulsive, leaving no time whatsoever for her brain to catch up with her gob.

As expected, her ranting was met with the usual whistle of crickets and tumbleweeds rolling past. Mags wasn’t insulted, but hurt by her brother going to the trouble of finding a suitable boyfriend or lack thereof. “Yeah, that’s what I
bloody well thought.” Riordan had finally done it this time, finding someone who was possibly more awkward and socially-retarded than she was to test her patience. Fred had conveyed everything by not saying anything, thus implying that not only was Mags hideous, she had no personality. Or so she assumed.

In a way, she almost understood the high and mighty air that the pretentious Frederick held about him. Typical Slytherin behavior. Still, that hadn’t given him the right to call her ugly for God’s sake.

Regaining her composure, Mags stretched out to her full form on the bottom step, daintily crossing one ankle over the other. Like a lady, she thought sardonically, rolling her eyes as if to contemplate the ridiculousness of it all. Again. She’d also contemplated telling him off, but chose instead to find her previous patch of sunlight, reclining against the cool, smooth marble and closing her eyes. With the probable exceptions of a lurking Riordan and a couple castle ghosts, the Entrance Hall was practically deserted at this hour, eliminating her chances of receiving a shoe to the face.

Without her brother or any imposing threats around, Magdalena was at peace. Calm as a clam and just as soundless. Sunbathing was among the few activities that shut her up completely, and almost made her seem normal for once. Unbeknownst to Frederick, her brain was stewing with the thoughts of what to say next. Something clever and completely unexpected.

“It’s because I’m not going to have sex with you, isn’t it?” Bingo.
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Frederick McNamara


If Frederick forgot this girl was Riordan’s sister, she reminded him of it almost immediately as she opened her mouth and started talking. Same lame puns, same lame humour and most of all, the same incompetence in looking past anything but theirselves – she was, as it seemed, just as bad at reading facial expressions as her brother. And whereas her brother seemed to shut up from time to time, this girl seemingly couldn’t bloody stop.

And the things that came out of her mouth made no fucking sense at all. “I know I’m no flawless beauty. I may not be the best actress either, but if you think I’m so very unappealing and dull, all you have to do is say so.”

His eyes narrowed at the pun and he mirrored her frown. First of all, he had no recollection whatsoever of indicating he thought she was ugly. Quite to the contrary. Second of all, he was getting sick and tired of all these jokes about his mutism – intentional or not. It wasn’t because he didn’t talk that he didn’t think, or feel, or knew how to express himself. Most people, though, relied so heavily on their ears that they forgot to use their fucking eyes.

And the Cole’s seemed to be a master at being fucking blind and jumping to stupid conclusions.

“Yeah, that’s what I bloody well thought.”

And now apparently she took his silence as an indication to think he actually thought she was ugly – it wasn’t like her own brother had told her he was mute just ten minutes ago or something. Just like her obnoxious brother, she only bothered to hear and see what she wanted to hear and see. Whatever. He was done with those kind of people – there were plenty of others who weren’t as narrow-minded and daft as Riordan or Magdalena Cole. He’d rather bother with people who actually appreciated the silence once in a while and didn’t try to get anything out of him. Or who’d actually bother to read his facial expressions.

Something Magdalena wasn’t going to bother doing since she crossed her legs, throwing him a disdainful look as if he’d insulted her by not talking and then proceeded to stretch out on one of the steps, in the sun, and close her eyes.. Fred was too annoyed to even try and appreciate the view she was unintentionally presenting him with. Who cared if she had really, really nice legs and a beautiful face if it was combined with that sort of personality.

Fred rolled his eyes at her snoozing form and turned around, ready to leave. Let her think he was still around to listen to her inane chatter and talk to herself. Not like he cared.

“It’s because I’m not going to have sex with you, isn’t it?”

Fred froze in his tracks and turned around again, incredulous look on his face – one which she of course didn’t see with her eyes closed. Perhaps she wasn’t as similar to her brother as he’d originally thought. Whereas Riordan still had some rational sense and wit to him, this girl was a certifiably nutjob.

A good looking one, but still nuts. Fred didn’t even have to talk or communicate anything with this girl – she just filled in all the blanks with her own interpretations. Unfortunately, those interpretations consisted of Fred apparently calling her ugly because she didn’t want to sleep with him. Fred couldn’t immediately wrap his mind around the arrogance of that statement. Or the cheapness of it.

Fred was neither easy, cheap or particularly arrogant – although his silence often got mistaken for such. He wasn’t a push over either, so after Magdalena uttered her last ridiculous statement and he’d gotten over his initial surprise, his eyes flashed with a silent challenge and he slowly made his way over to her.

Kneeling down on one of the steps lower to the one which she was lying on, he twisted his body and braced both his hands on either side of her head, his own head hovering over hers. Lifting his hand, he trailed his fingers down the side of her face, making her open her eyes and lifted his lips in a sly grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Leaning down so that their noses – and lips therefore too – where almost touching, his eyes locked with hers, silent and challenging and when he was so close that she really couldn’t mistake or oversee the look in his eyes, he let his gaze fill with an amused disdain and snorted silently, breathing a soundless puff of air over her mouth. His entire stance was a silent “in your dreams, sweetheart,” and not even she could be so daft as to not understand it.

With that, he pulled back rather abruptly and got to his feet again, one eyebrow quirking.

She could stick her false interpretations and stupid puns where the sun didn’t shine.

Turning around, he started to walk away.
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Magdalena Cole
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What the fuck had just happened?

One minute, Mags had been floating off in La La Land in the pursuit of relaxation after spending a particularly rough night tied up in a broom closet after a semi-violent altercation with whom she could only refer to as the female versions of Axel and Brenner; the next, the Slytherin blond had leaned in dangerously close to her face, accompanied with an exhaled gust of hot air.

The very look in his eyes had been enough to make Magdalena’s skin crawl - not an easy feat considering few things frightened or intimidated her, yet somehow he managed to effortlessly accomplish both in a single piercing gaze clearly giving off the ‘you fucking wish‘ vibe. The intensity of it all had caught her off guard, leaving the feeling of vulnerability behind in its wake. How Frederick had gone from timid to borderline predator in a matter of seconds and that he even had the audacity to physically pin her down was absolutely sickening.

Alright, maybe she was overreacting. There hadn’t been any implication of force involved, but he’d still touched her, and that in itself was simply unforgivable.

If his goal was to make her speechless, the mission was anything but accomplished. Mags bolted upright, seemingly muttering undecipherable nonsense and glaring daggers at his retreating back. “You’ve got some fucking nerve, McNamara.” And so he did. If Riordan had given the kid a pep talk before dragging him down, then he’d definitely been sharp enough to take notes. At present, she had half a mind to throttle them both. Maybe even avoid a trip to Azkaban if she managed to dispose of the bodies well enough.

Mags was positively infuriated. Naturally she had expected a set-up on Riordan’s part, gotten used to them by now even, but this one had sprung itself upon her without warning - no pun intended. Usually when the younger of the Cole twins put his elaborate schemes into action, he was fair enough to provide some sort of warning or clue beforehand. Beyond that, he had no decency to spare.

Taking a leaflet out of her brother’s book had never been her style, yet the circumstance seemed to beg for it. He not only violated her personal space, but proceeded to treat her as prey, teasing her much like a kitten with a helpless mouse. Well, two could play at that game. If Frederick just thought he’d get away with his actions and that she’d take it sitting down, he had another thing coming. No one put Magdalena in a corner.

Grinning evilly, she slowly stood up, eyes firmly locked on the target in sight. For someone with rather long legs, he didn’t seem to walk that fast, having only reached the end of the parquet. Still, if her plan was to go off without a hitch, she
was going to need a running start. Rising integrity now regretted defending him all but fifteen minutes ago, but that was beside the point. All that she cared about now was serving up a steaming hot dish of bitter payback. Unfortunately the cards were stacked against her where size was concerned, but that wasn’t to say she wouldn’t enjoy playing the role of human battering ram.

Sparkly black hooker boots chucked off to the side, Mags braced herself before breaking into a sprint. Feet moving soundlessly across the floor, she inched closer and once within close enough proximity, launched herself square in the middle of Frederick‘s back, taking him down in a full out tackle. There wasn’t much of a struggle as she anticipated; then again, with his back turned, he hadn’t seen it coming.

If the boy didn’t already think the tiny brunette was crazy, this only would have rectified the statement. Too bad for him, she didn’t give a shit what he thought. As long as any bones weren’t broken, it wasn’t her problem. Even then, fractures were easily mended. Just teaching him a lesson was satisfaction enough, though she would be lying if she didn’t enjoy knocking him to the ground and the soft fall that followed shortly after.

“Thought you had me there, didn’t you love?” Slinking so as to lay diagonally across him instead of directly on top -both sexy and awkward at once-, Mags smirked as she leaned in close, lips brushing against a perfectly sculpted ear.

“Don’t be such a repulsive tease.”







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Frederick McNamara


Frederick had rather hoped the girl would be too stunned to do something for a little while longer, at least, until he was long gone. On the other hand, part of him hoped for a confrontation – that part of him that was making him walk slower than usual. It surprised Fred that he still had that part in him. For so long he’d kept himself shut off, making himself feel nothing more than general apathy, faint dislike or mild amusement – keeping everyone at arm’s length. And this girl, he hadn’t even met her for more than five minutes and already she’d managed to get under his skin.

Turned out confrontation was exactly what he was going to get – just not exactly the way he’d expected it to.

Then again, he assumed no one really expected someone to suddenly jump them from behind. Air leaving his lungs with a rather loud woosh as something warm, petite, but definitely quite forceful collided with his back, he only just managed to break his fall with his hands to prevent himself from doing a complete faceplant.

Surprise prevented him from immediately reacting – that and the soft body lying half on top of him, belonging to the one and only Magdalena Cole. Shock, anger and for some weird reason, amusement warred inside of him – which all fell away to mortification as she shifted on top of him, pressing closer into his back and his body reacted in a way Fred definitely didn’t want it to react.

Being male, sixteen and having an attractive girl lying on top of you were all good reasons for explaining – that and the fact that he hadn’t actually had anyone this close in, well, six years – but it didn’t make it any more embarrassing.

His body was held perfectly stiff, shoulders tense and his breath harsh. Frederick really, really wanted to push the girl off, wanted to throttle her for making him feel and act so out of character and at the same time, he was trying to figure out just why he disliked her so much – it wasn’t like she acted a lot worse than Riordan.

Perhaps he’d simply hoped she at least, being in Gryffindor and all, would be different than her brother. Perhaps he’d simply hoped she could become a friend. Perhaps.

“Thought you had me there, didn’t you love?”

He’d been disappointed on both counts, though.

“Don’t be such a repulsive tease.”

And just like that, the embarrassment was gone, replaced by a strong wave of anger and resentment – never mind that he had been teasing before. Regardless, all she had done until now was make assumptions and treat him like a retard. He was sick of it. Of her and her brother.

Without even consciously knowing he would do it, he brought his elbow up and jabbed her in the ribs, taking the momentum to twist himself from under her grip, trying to break free of the arms that were trying to keep him in place. With an aggravated huff, he rolled them around, Fred now lying on top of Magdalena – this time thankfully without any awkward side reactions from his body; he was too angry, too irritated for that.

Glaring down at her, he grabbed her arms and pinned them down next to her head – to someone walking by, it must’ve seemed a pretty odd scene; or a pretty sexual one at that.

With that thought suddenly shooting through his mind, he abruptly got up and started to walk away again – a quicker pace this time. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice, though, so when his ears picked up the sound of her approaching again – easier to do now that he was looking for it – he turned around before she could reach him, yanked on her arm and spun her against a wall, crowding up against her, hands pushing against her shoulders, mutinous look on his face.

He hadn’t felt this alive in years.

He’d spent the last six years of his life not living, but simply breathing – going through his days without paying any attention to what was going on around him. Shut in, keeping to himself, keeping people at bay, thinking that letting no one in would prevent him from getting hurt again – but he hadn’t lived in so long, hadn’t felt adrenaline, anger and something akin to passion in this long that the sudden realization hit him like a freight train and he stumbled back, eyes wide and shocked.

Magdalena frightened him – or at least, what she could do to him frightened him.

He hadn’t stumbled back that far, still standing pretty close to her – so when Riordan suddenly showed up behind his back, obnoxious voice intoning, “I knew you two would get along great. Well done, Freddy,” Fred felt something inside him snap.

Still high on adrenaline and residual anger, irritation over the fact that Riordan kept calling him Freddy and this girl, this insane little thing seemingly challenging him to fucking do something, he balled his hand in a fist, turned around and punched Riordan Cole square in the face.
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Magdalena Cole
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If actions could be interpreted as emotions, Frederick McNamara was merely a sexually-repressed lunatic.

Momentarily stunned from receiving an elbow to the ribs, Magdalena was too preoccupied with the pain radiating through her torso to even notice she’d been flipped onto her back, arms pinned down above her head. Even the second time when he’d pressed her up against the wall. The sudden act of aggression surprised the girl, leaving her absolutely speechless for the first time since meeting him. Not to say she didn’t enjoy it - eyes sparkling with an almost perversion, her hands had reached forward and cupped the sides of his face, ready to pull in for a kiss when he stepped back, and the devil himself re-emerged from the shadows.

“I knew you two would get along great. Well done, Freddy.”

Before Magdalena even had the time to retort, his body hit the floor.

Her jaw dropped at witnessing the fist land smack in the middle of Riordan’s face, out of both shock and fascination. On one hand, Frederick had just accomplished something she’d be wanting to do for years - on the other, that aggression had been at her expense. The bitter cause and effect syndrome. Mags winced as her brother crumpled, regaining composure only after the blood stopped gushing from his nose and mouth. To think, that could have been meant for her if Rior hadn’t showed up just in the nick of time, pushing him just that much over the edge.

“Merde.” Voice a barely audible whisper, an instantaneous panic flashed in her eyes as Riordan staggered to his feet, glowering at them both. A fat lip prevented him from speaking, fortunately, but his expression of desire to kick both their asses from here to kingdom come was more than perfectly clear. The boy could be downright vicious when he wanted to be, just as much of a brute as he was charming. That must’ve been where her group of regular tormentors got it from - in their group of six, at least four had dated her brother, and look how they turned out. Thanks to Lieve Covington, Ramona Frost, and their respective acolytes, she couldn’t publicly wear corsets or go skinny dipping in the lake again without facing potentially dangerous consequences.

Time to put the past behind her. Pulling urgently on Frederick’s arm in a signal to follow, Mags cocked her head towards the set of double doors. “Come on, I know somewhere we can go.” The lack of trust and incredulous look she’d received on his part may have been anticipated and well deserved, but there wasn’t any time for taking chances and sticking around. Not with a livid Riordan on the rampage. Lifting his chin with her forefinger so as to meet her eyes, she threw in a reassuring smile for good measure, slowly tugging him along to safety. “You’ll just have to trust me.”

Unless he wanted to be beaten to a bloody pulp, that was. Mags upgraded from a jog to a full-blown sprint in faint desperation to escape, realizing only when they were halfway across the lawn that she’d left her boots behind. That explained the feeling of the cool, wet grass in between her toes. It was too late to turn back now though, she concluded, sure that advancing speck of a shadow and illuminated wand in the distance belonged to her brother. Well, shit. The original plan of attack being to perch on the edge of the forest, Mags settled instead for the nearby broom closets, testing the doors before she found one that was unlocked, and shoved Frederick inside.

Naturally she hadn’t counted on spending another night in the same place when a warm bed was readily available in the castle, but there really wasn’t much of a choice in the matter. She only hoped that Frederick wouldn’t notice the coils of rope and gag that remained from the previous night’s adventure - he’d pinned her down once already, with props at his disposal there was the great possibility of certain ideas.

Shutting the door behind her, Magdalena reached out in the darkness and drew Frederick in close, wrapping both arms around him in a gesture of what she hoped was conveyed as comfort rather than the sleeper hold. The run had resulted in heavy breathing, her chest rising and falling even pressed tightly to Frederick’s own. The sudden act of kindness was unexpected, and whether or not he would be taken aback wasn’t much of a concern. Perhaps he would just appreciate the moment for what it was like a normal male rather than protesting.

At this point, Mags decided that she simply didn’t give a flying fuck. If resistance was involved, she had no qualms whatsoever against pushing Frederick back outside to fend for himself. The situation seemed very probable, if only she wasn’t taking absolute pity on him. With the last dregs of sunlight fading, a sudden idea infiltrated her mind.

“How bad would it look if we both stayed here tonight?”

A beat bridged the gap before she continued, as though to let his adolescent brain process the proposal. “I’m not going to try anything, promise.” Again, the subtle reassurance inconspicuously filtering its way through her words. Unlike Gare and Jace, she had the uncanny knack of being able to sidestep sexual innuendos. Remove the target from her back for once. A raised eyebrow the cause for further explanation, she hesitated a moment before opening her mouth to speak in a manner of clarification. “Don’t worry. I’m usually this forward with everyone I meet.”

Probably wouldn’t do much to ease his worried mind, but hell, it was the best she could do.
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Frederick McNamara


Frederick couldn’t say he regretted the action the moment he’d done it, but he was sure as hell shocked by the fact he’d actually thrown the first punch at all. That wasn’t like him. He wasn’t just someone that wrestled with girls and then punched people just for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. He didn’t have a short fuse or really any fuse at all. His behavior from today was so out of character for him, the only thing he could do was look down at his slightly smarting fist with wide eyes, mind utterly blank.

And then he felt a hand at his arm and he got pulled back to the present situation, Magdalena trying to pull him along, telling him she knew somewhere they could go, telling him to trust her and one look at Riordan’s glowering face told him that no matter how much he didn’t want to follow Magdalena Cole anywhere, she was definitely the lesser two evils and if he didn’t want his ass kicked right that second he couldn’t do anything else but to follow her.

Which was how he found himself in a broom shed after having ran for his life, with the girl he’d wanted to get away with not fifteen minutes prior.

A girl that was currently hugging him.

Looking down at the petite figure with a look of pure surprise, Fred honestly had no idea how to react. His mind was in a turmoil, the emotions that had been rolling through him, the anger and the irritation having been so unexpected that it had left him feeling confused. And now the girl that had taunted him, tackled him to the floor and had made assumptions about him before even knowing him, was hugging him. Was being sympathetic. Even though he’d just punched her brother.

Frederick didn’t quite understand reality anymore.

Swallowing thickly, he tentatively wrapped his arms around her shoulders and squeezed once before letting them drop to his sides, hoping she would release him soon. She did. Frederick hoped the madness that had been the last hour would be over soon and he could go back to being him. Apathetic and keeping people at a distance. Not the passionate, emotional guy from before. Not the one who suddenly felt stupidly grateful to Mags because she’d taken him with her. Fred would’ve been less surprised had she left him there to fend off her brother on his own, but she hadn’t.

“How bad would it look if we both stayed here tonight?”

Fred opened his mouth and closed it again, blinking slowly as he stared at Magdalena. Fuck, she was confusing. He had no idea what he was supposed to feel right now. In a way, not feeling anything would’ve been preferable, instead to this chaos running around in his brain. “I’m not going to try anything, promise.”

Despite the inner turmoil, the words brought an unexpected smile to his face – a small one, but a smile none the less. No matter how agonizing this girl was, no matter how confused she was making him feel, somehow Fred got struck with the thought that wouldn’t mind if she actually did try something – a fact that only confused him more, in the end, since it had been ages ago that he’d actually shown any interest at all.

He gave a small shrug, eyes flitting around the narrow space they were both stuck in for the moment. Brow furrowing a little as he surveyed what seemed to a gag, he shot her a slightly questioning look – undoubtedly going by unnoticed in this little light. He looked down and noticed her feet were bare and cold looking.

Taking his wand from his pocket – thanking whomever was out there that he hadn’t lost it in the scuffle – he took one of the buckets littering the floor and transformed them into shoes, before holding them out to Magdalena. They were soft, meant for wearing inside only and it had been the kind of slippers he’d use to wear when he’d been a kid, slipping and sliding over the polished floors of his house with his brother.

It was, in his own way, a sort of peace offering.

Fred was relaxing again, retreating back into himself, letting his rational mind take over. He’d always been pragmatic – if they were going to be staying here the entire night, fighting wouldn’t really accomplish much more than them killing each other before the night was over. It also meant for him to think of an alternative way of communication than just facial expressions. No matter how much it annoyed him, the Coles weren’t really adept at reading body language, a fact he’d found out rather quickly.

Looking up, he flicked his wand to make a light appear, casting the shed into a faint golden glow. He didn’t check if Magdalena had put on the shoes he’d offered her – all that mattered is that he’d given them to her. Up to her if she wanted to accept the apology as such.

Fishing out a piece of parchment from one of his pockets, he used his wand to write, lacking a quill. ‘Any chance you know how to conjure up a blanket?’

As a means of communication, this would have to do for the moment.

‘How did you know about this place?’
Edited by Frederick McNamara, Nov 29 2010, 12:56 PM.
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