*Warnings: Feisty Gene is feisty! But nah, nothing bad in this part!
*Suggested Listening: Memories Never Fade by Isaac Shepard
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.One.
“Prosper – verb: To flourish or succeed in a healthy way.”
.One.
“Prosper – verb: To flourish or succeed in a healthy way.”
Gene is 11…and very much annoyed with the racket going on outside the train compartment he’s occupying.
The young blond was lucky, very much so, to nab an empty compartment on the Hogwarts Express. So far, no one had come in to ask Gene if they could sit with him. Of course, Gene’s mother taught him better than to be discourteous. He would let people sit with him, even if their company would be…less than pleasant.
The train hasn’t taken off from the station, though, so it’s still too early to decide whether or not the company would bother Gene. Right now, he’s busy trying to block out the stupid noise coming from outside the compartment. Really, some people didn’t know what ‘consideration of others’ meant. Didn’t they know there were other people on this train?!
Gene groans and fiddles with the edges of his brand new Hogwarts robes nervously. Today had really been going poorly for him. Mother had gotten sick early in the morning and couldn’t see him off like he had hoped. Father had been called away to the Ministry, after making sure Mother got to St. Mungos fine.
So naturally, Nanny Aggie made sure the young Darlington boarded the train on-time, all the while telling him how he’d better behave and not cause any trouble for the professors.
And now…there is a racket going on outside his compartment. With a frustrated growl, the blond moves slowly from his seat and strains to hear what’s going on from the other side of the door. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if the people outside are much older than him, but he figures he can bluff his way out of a beating.
A beat. Then another. And...
...Huh. So it’s a teasing that’s going on. Gene frowns. Bullying was such a bland and tasteless pastime. He wondered why some people took it upon them to act in such a way. Mother always told him that nothing good ever came from bullying another person, only a sense of false pride. Gene sighs. Not much he can do…he’s only a first year. He just got his wand days ago and knows no spells that would help the one being bullied.
Gene almost goes through with just tuning them out…until he hears a soft sound among the teasing and harsh voices. His blood turns cold (perhaps with fire) and that grim frown turns annoyed and angry. So not only were they making too much noise…they were making the victim cry? He can only imagine what his mother would say to him in a situation like this. Perhaps, with a wise look on her face she’d tell him: ‘Sometimes, dear, the bad people are those who see evil…and choose not to do anything about it.’
It is decided then.
Without thinking, Gene puts on his angriest ‘high-and-mighty-better-than-you’ face he can muster and throws open his compartment door with a loud ‘CLANG-CLUNK’. It doesn’t take him longer than a moment to size up his opponents and say with confidence, “Don’t you toerags have anything better to do than to make noise?! Merlin! I’m surprised they didn’t hear you lot all the way in Durmstrang, with how much racket you’re causing!”
He pauses to sneer at the flabbergasted bullies, and reaches out to pull the young boy (goodness, he’s a small one!) over to his side. Such thick-headed Neanderthals, that they seemed to forget that Gene was smaller and much younger than them to cast a proper hex on them. Gene barks, in a perfectly angry-controlled voice, “Go pick on someone your own species, or I’ll find a prefect and report you for disturbing the peace!” He’d heard that last bit from Nanny when she got livid with him, and it seemed to do the trick since the older boys gape and quickly move down the aisle away from the first years.
Nodding with satisfaction, Gene gently ushers the boy, whose been quietly sniffling and crying the entire time, into his—their—compartment while he gathers the knapsack that the boy had dropped. The taller blond re-enters the space, bag in hand, and shuts the door behind him with a firm ‘click’.
The crying boy isn’t crying too much anymore, just sniffling quietly and avoiding eye contact with Gene. He looks fragile and small, even in those Hogwarts robes. Gene can’t help but soften his gaze and sit down next to the boy. Even then, Gene notices that he’s still taller than this boy by at least a head or two.
The boy looks up at Gene, half in fright and half in curiosity. He hadn’t put up much resistance when Gene pulled him into the compartment, but the blond boy still looks wary. His eyes are the prettiest shade of blue that Gene has ever seen, and he can’t help but look at them a little longer than necessary before coming back to his senses. Digging into his pants pocket, Gene pulls out a handkerchief and offers it to the boy with a smile.
When he doesn’t take it at first, Gene sighs (the boy flinches slightly) and reaches up to drab gently at the boy’s cheeks and eyes. He catches the boy’s gaze once more (they really are nice, almost like looking at a cloudless afternoon) and tries smiling again. “My name’s Gene, by the way. Gene Darlington. …And you?”
The boy blushes faintly as Gene wipes away the tears as best as he can. He looks shyly at Gene for a moment, and finally gives him a smile. ”C-Christophe Molynuex. A-Ah…but you can just call me Tophe.” Gene nods and brushes away a stray tear from the corner of Tophe’s eye.
The taller blond smiles at Tophe the way his mother would smile at him if she wanted to comfort him. ”Tophe…it’s a good name.” He hands the handkerchief over to Tophe, who graciously takes it and promptly blows his nose (Gene inwardly cringes, but stays silent). He waits for the shorter blond to finish (daintily shoves the soiled handkerchief back into his pocket) before gesturing to the door with a huff. ”Those tossers were loud and annoying. I’m sorry they picked on you like that.”
Tophe freezes, and for a split second Gene worries that he’s screwed up and moves to take the hankie back out. However, Tophe doesn’t start crying again, only frowns and blushes. “I-It’s not your f-fault.” He looks down at his hands, small like the rest of him. “I’m used to…well, people p-picking on me, because I’m…y’know, short.” He gestures to himself and sighs.
Gene ‘hmms’ with an ‘I’m thinking’ expression and Tophe looks up at Gene curiously. He watches as the taller boy stands up from his seat and motions for Tophe to do the same. He complies, though a bit hesitantly. Gene pulls him closer and sizes Tophe up with a curious expression, and shakes his head with a determined frown.
“Those wankers are just too tall for the both of us. You’re the perfect height, in my opinion!” Gene declares with his hands on his hips. He looks so sure of himself when he says it, it’s almost arrogant.
“…Really? How c-can you be s-sure though?” Tophe asks, obviously surprised by Gene’s sudden statement. Gene huffs and pouts. Tophe can’t help but smile just a little bit at him. It’s kind of cute.
“You are the right height! You’re fine just the way you are, and…and, anyone who says otherwise is just too tall to really know for sure!” Gene states. “Besides, you have plenty of time to get taller. You don’t have to, y’know…be in a hurry to grow up.”
Tophe blinks and nods. His smile is bright and hopeful; Gene can’t help but smile back, eyes conveying a friendly meaning. It’s infectious.
They hear the train rumble and the whistle blow, effectively startling both of them. They look at each other and laugh like the young boys they are, taking their seats next to one another in their compartment. For the rest of the train ride, they’re undisturbed as they talk and share the different aspects of their lives. Sweets were bought from the trolley witch and shared amongst them, with plenty of laughs and stories while they enjoyed themselves.
And when the train finally arrives at Hogsmeade Station, their conversation continues, without a lull or interruption.
- TBC -
