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Calling It as I See It
Silence fell among the students and staff gathered for lunch in the Great Hall, moving in a wave from those nearest the door and ending at the Head Table and a smirking Professor Tobias Prince and warmly smiling Professor Abraxas Malfoy. Heads turned and eyes widened at the sight as tall, elegant Professor Slytherin entered the room with the glowingly beautiful Hadrian Morgan on his arm. With complete composure, the two men moved toward the Slytherin table, their unhurried progress allowing ample time for all of the hushed observers to note the new crest of the Slytherin Consort crest on Hadrian's dark green robes. Excited whispers and murmurs erupted throughout the Great Hall as Marvolo seated Hadrian in 'his' chair at the end of the table, placing his hand on a slim shoulder as he leaned down to speak softly to the younger man for a moment, before standing tall and sweeping a dispassionate but somehow threatening ruby gaze over the avidly attentive watchers.
Finally, satisfied with the dropped eyes and shivers of dread he elicited from those he specifically targeted – each Marauder, Ronald Weasley, and Argus Filch were particularly affected – the tall Lord and Professor squeezed Hadrian's shoulder once more and headed up to seat himself between his friends and vassals, Malfoy and Prince.
Conversation resumed with great enthusiasm as the excited squeals of excited romantics served as descant to the speculations and discussions of several hundred fascinated diners.
From his somewhat gaudy throne in the center of the Head table, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had watched the entrance of the two Slytherins with a sense of growing horror. The possessive stance of young Tom as he escorted the bane of this entire year was enough cause for worry, but the crest on Morgan's robes declaring the little bastard to be Slytherin's Consort had nearly caused Albus to choke on his own fear. This was disastrous! All of his plans and careful machinations were in terrible danger already as a result of this morning's revelations with the Potters and Bates. Over half of the financial might of the Potter Family now irrevocably belonged to young Hadrian (and how could young James be so phenomenally stupid so many times in a 24-hour period?!), and Albus was certain – even before Bates opened the second letter to confirm it – that Slytherin would be suing Heir James Potter for both slander and libel. After all, this would provide his political opponent with ample leverage and publicity. Given the same situation, Albus would unquestionably have pressed the advantage; it would be unthinkable that Tom would not do so, as well. But now, things were so much worse than even five minutes ago – and they'd been pretty bad then! To see that not only was Tom's attention caught by Hadrian but that they were Lord and Consort (and how the hell had that happened so damn quickly?!) was potentially devastating! It was probably only a matter of time before they discovered Hadrian's true status as a Founder's Heir in his own right – twice! – and that would then lead to truths and revelations that Albus was really quite desperate to keep buried and safe.
Thoughts spinning and stomach roiling, Dumbledore pretended interest in his meal and tried to settle himself enough to conceal his agitation from ... well, pretty much everyone. He was, after all, a great man, respected and venerated by the sheeple. It wouldn't do at all for them to see him vomiting the cheese soufflé he had just consumed.
And why were the house elves giving him all of these cheese products, anyway? Didn't they know that a gentleman of his advanced years might suffer a bit for consuming an excess of the stuff? Poking a fork suspiciously into the remains of his soufflé, he was startled to see it replaced with a nice, cheese omelette. "Zeppo must be trying to make it up to me for his disobedience," Albus chuckled to himself, thinking that he would be magnanimous and allow himself only one more session of punishment for his servant before he granted forgiveness. Of course, the punishment would have to be kept within the narrow interpretation of what the damn Hat felt acceptable, but Albus was certainly capable of generating adequate penitence from the traitorous elf without leaving visible proof.
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Oblivious to the looks of nauseated disgust as he dug happily into the cheesy mess, the Headmaster ignored the increasing sense of constipation building in his bowels and concentrated on willfully not thinking about the anxiety-ridden days to come.
He was completely blind to the ironic parallels between what was happening in his life and what was happening in his bowels. Nevertheless, Tansy and Fletcher were quite pleased with their efforts, sharing a vicious grin with each other before popping up to the Hospital Wing to see how Zeppo was faring.
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Expressionless mask firmly in place but silver-blue eyes sparkling, Abraxas Malfoy redirected his observations away from the panicking Headmaster and focused on his oldest friend.
"So, Marvolo," he began teasingly, "I gather it's safe to assume that your interest in Mr. Morgan is reciprocated?" On Marvolo's other side, Tobias smirked back at Abraxas as they studied their dignified friend and Lord. In true Slytherin style, Marvolo's posture and behavior were no different than any other day; however, they knew the man very well and were delighted to see the warmth in those distinctive eyes and the small smile playing on his face.
The truth was clear: Marvolo was happy. Not just pleased, or satisfied, or triumphant, or content. They had seen all of these things, and enjoyed them with their old friend. No, this was quite different. Marvolo was in love. Marvolo's love was returned.
Marvolo was happy.
Smile deepening on his handsome face as he glanced at Abraxas, Marvolo replied dryly, "I see your impeccable Slytherin instincts are working properly. Well done, you!"
Next to him, Tobias snorted quietly, amused at the patently-fake look of offended pride on his lover's face. No matter how hard Abraxas tried, he just could not manage to completely disguise the fact that he was a genuinely nice person. It was a good thing that Tobias and Marvolo had a strong presence in the life of the Malfoy's, or young Lucius may have emulated his father to the point of becoming a Hufflepuff. Fortunately, the young man was better at hiding his emotions than Abraxas was – a trait aided considerably by Lucius's friendship with Tobias's own son, Severus.
As if they had followed his thoughts, the attention of the elder Slytherins was drawn to their House table and the interaction of the four leaders: Lucius, Severus, Narcissa and, of course, Hadrian. Much of their discussion was conducted in low tones, frustrating would-be eavesdroppers who knew their way past privacy wards. Nevertheless, the ramrod-straight posture of young Lucius indicated some degree of indignation, while Hadrian and Narcissa were snickering and Severus smirked. The sour expression on Lucius's face as he secured his platinum hair in a silver band was a sure sign that Severus had managed another sarcastic bit of humor at young Malfoy's expense. Everyone knew that Lucius was vain about his hair, and sensitive to unkind comments from friends. In truth, the boy's enemies could insult him all day and only provide Lucius fodder for his own scathing wit, but the opinions of loved ones cut deep. Tobias glanced over to Abraxas, and sure enough, his lover's handsome face reflected clear concern for his son's wounded feelings. He sighed deeply, aggravated at Severus's continuing refusal to temper his insults in any way. His son was far too certain of the correctness of his own opinions, and seemed to believe it was his role in life to continually belittle everyone around him.
At the student table, Hadrian, too, seemed to know that Severus had scored Lucius's pride a little too deeply this time. The three at the Head table watched as the remarkable young man once again summoned his will in a near-visible demonstration of self-discipline, silencing his intense shyness and summoning steel into his spine that went well beyond the thoughtless courage of the Gryffindors.
With complete composure, Hadrian then rose to his feet, catching the eye of every Slytherin and most of the other students (and teachers) with a spoon ringing against his glass and an overly-dramatic rendition of pompous dignity that mimicked the Headmaster to perfection. Tobias and Abraxas heard Marvolo chuckle beneath his breath at his Consort's performance.
