Post by palanfanaiel on Jun 3, 2005 13:29:35 GMT -5
The Odd Couple
- An odd train ride
Summary: Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall are being observed.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine; it all belongs to J.K.R...
Rating: 14+
A/N: One-shot. I think. Though I have an idea for a chapter 2, let me know if you think I should continue =)
*
Now, what should have been a boringly train ride from my lousy little
flat to another day at work turned out quite amazingly interesting. I had just
taken a seat, my quick-up booster in a flamingo cup warming my hands pleasantly,
and yes that’s coffee I’m referring to. Grey blurs passed my eyes as dull
buildings loomed up in sight, the misty rain only fitting the perfect image of a
nice autumn morning. I pulled my sweater closer around me and took a slurp of
poison from the cup, the train stopped and I nearly splattered hot liquid all over
myself therefore I really didn’t see them coming in, but when I looked up again,
after having rescued my day from a entirely nightmarish ordeal, I had company. Opposite me, a couple now occupied the dull red seats.
Now if it had been Halloween or any other freakish day – maybe there’s a festival in the city - I wouldn’t have been in such a distress. For indeed it wasn’t just anybody who just sat there, no ordinary couple, but the weirdest couple I’ve seen. The lady – if you sat opposite her too, you would be calling her a lady too - sat rigid, her back very erect, just on the edge of the seat, doing a very good job of not touching anything. For this train was not a very clean one, old dirt and dust mingled with the red leather of the seat, the air smelled of sweat, both sweet and sour aromas drifted around. Her eyes were narrowed, her mouth seemed to become smaller and thinner with every second, and just the way she kept tapping her fingers on her thigh, reminded me so much of my grandmother when she was nearly out of patience, or definitely working a temper.
However, the man beside her couldn’t have been more different. He was leaned
back, one stretched leg over the other; he really looked to be at ease. He
did not mind the dirt, and kept smiling at everyone passing by. They looked like someone pulled out from the 16th century.
Now you’re probably wondering what’s so special about them, so they look like a really old-fashioned couple, well I’m coming to that, for their appearance is quite odd.
The man, or should I call him old man, if you judge him by his silver hair and
beard he appears to be quite old. Well anyhow, where he comes from it must be very modern for old men to
have long hair and a long beard to match, for that he indeed had. His beard even
though long was nicely trimmed, and his hair was tied loosely in the back. I think his eyes were blue, but I didn’t want to stare too obviously at them, so they might have been another colour, but definitely a light colour. He had half-moon specs on, and occasionally he would with the tip of his fingers tuck them up, or else they kept returning
to the brink of his nose tip. As I said before he just kept on smiling, it actually seemed rather contagious on me, though I really tried not to smile too
much. A peculiar man!
The lady didn’t seem to find his smiling catching at all, or she was very good
at controlling herself. She had spectacles too, but whereas the man looked
rather like a nice old grandfather, she had a somewhat sterner look. I had the weirdest feeling she could peel me to pieces with her stare, all the while having a cosy conversation with me. Her hair was in a very tight bun, the kind of bun you usually get a throbbing headache
from if you wear it too long, it didn’t seem to annoy her at all. I was quite
amazed at the colour of her hair, black as the dead of night; the few strands of
white were so few you didn’t really see them before close-up. But what I
really noticed about her was her paleness. Now, I am not just talking winter
paleness, this is more like vampire-ish paleness. Her white complexion and along
with that dark hair; as I said it would have been fun on Halloween.
Now, I know they still appear to be quite normal, but I’m not done yet, for
their clothes indeed could have been taken out of some fairy tale, or as I said the 16th century. But what do I know, I never listened to our history teacher in high school! I just couldn’t stop looking at them, they entranced me in some sort of strange way. Not that I’m not used to people dressing in weird clothes, or not behaving like normal people, but they just seemed so interesting.
The man had the most curious clothes, and I find it hard to describe them
accurately, but I’ll do my best. On his feet he had a pair of old brown high-heeled buckled boots, it’s not everyday you see an old man in high-heeled boots, so I actually did a double take when I noticed, I hope he didn’t notice though. The bit I saw of his trousers was enough, orange and blue stripes, now that’s a funny combination, but I’m sure not unheard of. Then he had some kind of funny dress over his trousers, reaching to his knees, the dress, long skirt or whatever it was called, was purple with yellowish triangles all over. The large gold
belt, on it were tiny black birds, helped keeping his beard in place. His shirt, what you could see of it anyway, was the only normal thing on
him. White, with laces at the neck and wrists; a shockingly amount of laces actually. Already the picture of him is quite hilarious, but what really made his outfit was his big long jacket. Red, with gold along the hem, it reached his toes, but was entirely too snug around his middle and shoulders. My first thought was that so would Gandalf probably
look like if he were the new Santa in the mall, a young Gandalf rebellion against his parents.
The lady on the other hand looked a bit more sophisticated and modest, but still
like someone from a Shakespearean play or the royal family from a century or two ago. Like her partner, she had a pair of boots, though whereas his were brown, hers was a polished black, knee-high black military boots. Despite the polished look, they appeared old. Her dress was a richly bottle green, very snug around her hips, and bosom. Her neckline was very modest, up to her chin, with a few elaborate flowers at the collar. Her sleeves were likewise covered in flowers working their way up her arms. Her dress was lifted up in one side, showing her dark-red petticoats underneath. She too had a strange tight jacket, with a high collar, stopping just short of her thighs, however presently her jacket lay discarded over her legs.
I felt out of place with my faded jeans, and second hand sweater, and for a second wished I had put on something a bit more colourful.
I did not want to stare too much so I looked out the window again, and that’s when they started talking.
“This is suicide, Albus,” whispered the lady, her voice sharp.
”Don’t worry, dear, we blend in nicely,” as I expected his voice was pleasant and had a ring in it, I just knew he was smiling. I was still looking out the
window, I didn’t dare turn around, I think they had quite forgotten me, and I found their conversation rather interesting. Not that I usually peek on others
conversations.
“Blend in nicely! Didn’t you see all the starring?”
She got no response, and for a while it was quiet in our cabin.
“It’s all your fault,” she whispered tartly.
“My fault?”
“Yes, if you had told me of this mission ten minutes before we had to go, instead of once in London, I would’ve found us some decent clothes.”
“It was a rather spontaneous plan, Molly has taken ill with some mysterious coughing, and Arthur was needed at the Ministry. It was quite lucky I came with the perfect idea that we could go instead. Alastor would’ve looked funny in a dress, don’t you think?”
She snorted loudly, her mouth becoming a fine straight line: “I still have no clue whatsoever, as to what I am doing here in a dirty train in London!”
“I cannot inform you right now, but it’s of the uttermost importance,” he said in a low voice.
“If it’s that important, how come we aren’t exactly doing this ‘incognito’,” her eyes flashed dangerously, her foot started tapping impatiently on the grim floor instead of her hand, which now rested on her thighs, knuckled into a tight ball of quiet fury.
He sighed loudly, but lowered his voice even more when he answered: “Any form of non-muggle activities,” he stopped and gave her a pointed look over his specs, “is forbidden on our journey, as it could endanger us unnecessarily.”
“Pah!”
I quickly looked out the window again, and tried to quieten the bubble of laughter threatening to burst. ‘Pah’ was the last thing I could ever imagine her to spit out, but she just had. ‘Albus’, what a name, had a small smile playing on his lips when I dared sneak a look at them again. I wondered what the heck they were talking about, for me they seemed to be talking in ciphers. What was a non-mukkel activity? Mysterious coughing? And apparently the government was involved in it! Maybe they were on some secret EU mission?
“As soon, as possible, I’ll take you shopping,” The old man - I refuse to call him Albus, is that even a name, I’m sure it’s not his real name in any case – spoke absently pointing at a building, mumbling about ‘creativity of muggles’. Again the word ‘mukkel’! I wonder what that could mean; obviously it must be a secret message, because the lady responded with a piercing look. Maybe they were not allowed to talk in codes in public?
“Shopping? muggle shopping, I daresay?”
“I know just the shop, where you can purchase decent clothes,” he gave her a big smile, and to my shock, she rolled her eyes, yet allowed a genuine smile to show on her face.
How can you go mukkel shopping? Still more codes to break. Decent clothes must mean something, something important regarding moggle shopping? I cannot see the connection at all.
“I’m pleased you are not considering wearing these outfits through the whole mission,” her smile was gone, and her face a mask of serenity.
“Well, I am after all the brightest crayon in the box,” he stated with a chuckle, shaking his head.
The lady shook her head too and mumbled something which sounded remotely like, ‘muggle proverbs’, the old man apparently heard her, for he offered her another smile. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about those two, the little smiles they pass along to the other, his smiles you can’t miss, but only a trained eye would notice hers too.
The train stopped suddenly, and I felt a little sad when I noticed the pair of them standing – so they’re getting off now – I have rather enjoyed their odd conversation. I looked out the window, and for a second I wondered why they were getting off here, until my eye landed on another peculiar person standing at the platform. Aha – an informant!
Getting off the train, they pretended not to see the cloak-clothed grimly looking man, wearing a most bizarre hat, covering half of his face, he walked up to them - a awkward trot I noticed – and gave them a grim nod. They formally returned it, and then started walking away, their informant looked left and right, forward and back, all the time, sneering at people passing by, he even gave the old man and lady an odd look, like he suspected them to leap up, and without more ado, turn into hideous tree-eyed monsters, and that look was a nice look considering all the other looks he gave everyone else. A most strange man – a most odd party in fact! I wondered what they were up to, and was quite annoyed that I’ll, in all probability, never find out.
Just before they were beyond my vision, the old man turned around, caught my eye, and gave me a little wink, before they were all gone. I gaped at the spot the tree people had just occupied, my mind bursting with questions, as the train settled into motion once again.
*
Pal
- An odd train ride
Summary: Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall are being observed.
Disclaimer: None of it is mine; it all belongs to J.K.R...
Rating: 14+
A/N: One-shot. I think. Though I have an idea for a chapter 2, let me know if you think I should continue =)
*
Now, what should have been a boringly train ride from my lousy little
flat to another day at work turned out quite amazingly interesting. I had just
taken a seat, my quick-up booster in a flamingo cup warming my hands pleasantly,
and yes that’s coffee I’m referring to. Grey blurs passed my eyes as dull
buildings loomed up in sight, the misty rain only fitting the perfect image of a
nice autumn morning. I pulled my sweater closer around me and took a slurp of
poison from the cup, the train stopped and I nearly splattered hot liquid all over
myself therefore I really didn’t see them coming in, but when I looked up again,
after having rescued my day from a entirely nightmarish ordeal, I had company. Opposite me, a couple now occupied the dull red seats.
Now if it had been Halloween or any other freakish day – maybe there’s a festival in the city - I wouldn’t have been in such a distress. For indeed it wasn’t just anybody who just sat there, no ordinary couple, but the weirdest couple I’ve seen. The lady – if you sat opposite her too, you would be calling her a lady too - sat rigid, her back very erect, just on the edge of the seat, doing a very good job of not touching anything. For this train was not a very clean one, old dirt and dust mingled with the red leather of the seat, the air smelled of sweat, both sweet and sour aromas drifted around. Her eyes were narrowed, her mouth seemed to become smaller and thinner with every second, and just the way she kept tapping her fingers on her thigh, reminded me so much of my grandmother when she was nearly out of patience, or definitely working a temper.
However, the man beside her couldn’t have been more different. He was leaned
back, one stretched leg over the other; he really looked to be at ease. He
did not mind the dirt, and kept smiling at everyone passing by. They looked like someone pulled out from the 16th century.
Now you’re probably wondering what’s so special about them, so they look like a really old-fashioned couple, well I’m coming to that, for their appearance is quite odd.
The man, or should I call him old man, if you judge him by his silver hair and
beard he appears to be quite old. Well anyhow, where he comes from it must be very modern for old men to
have long hair and a long beard to match, for that he indeed had. His beard even
though long was nicely trimmed, and his hair was tied loosely in the back. I think his eyes were blue, but I didn’t want to stare too obviously at them, so they might have been another colour, but definitely a light colour. He had half-moon specs on, and occasionally he would with the tip of his fingers tuck them up, or else they kept returning
to the brink of his nose tip. As I said before he just kept on smiling, it actually seemed rather contagious on me, though I really tried not to smile too
much. A peculiar man!
The lady didn’t seem to find his smiling catching at all, or she was very good
at controlling herself. She had spectacles too, but whereas the man looked
rather like a nice old grandfather, she had a somewhat sterner look. I had the weirdest feeling she could peel me to pieces with her stare, all the while having a cosy conversation with me. Her hair was in a very tight bun, the kind of bun you usually get a throbbing headache
from if you wear it too long, it didn’t seem to annoy her at all. I was quite
amazed at the colour of her hair, black as the dead of night; the few strands of
white were so few you didn’t really see them before close-up. But what I
really noticed about her was her paleness. Now, I am not just talking winter
paleness, this is more like vampire-ish paleness. Her white complexion and along
with that dark hair; as I said it would have been fun on Halloween.
Now, I know they still appear to be quite normal, but I’m not done yet, for
their clothes indeed could have been taken out of some fairy tale, or as I said the 16th century. But what do I know, I never listened to our history teacher in high school! I just couldn’t stop looking at them, they entranced me in some sort of strange way. Not that I’m not used to people dressing in weird clothes, or not behaving like normal people, but they just seemed so interesting.
The man had the most curious clothes, and I find it hard to describe them
accurately, but I’ll do my best. On his feet he had a pair of old brown high-heeled buckled boots, it’s not everyday you see an old man in high-heeled boots, so I actually did a double take when I noticed, I hope he didn’t notice though. The bit I saw of his trousers was enough, orange and blue stripes, now that’s a funny combination, but I’m sure not unheard of. Then he had some kind of funny dress over his trousers, reaching to his knees, the dress, long skirt or whatever it was called, was purple with yellowish triangles all over. The large gold
belt, on it were tiny black birds, helped keeping his beard in place. His shirt, what you could see of it anyway, was the only normal thing on
him. White, with laces at the neck and wrists; a shockingly amount of laces actually. Already the picture of him is quite hilarious, but what really made his outfit was his big long jacket. Red, with gold along the hem, it reached his toes, but was entirely too snug around his middle and shoulders. My first thought was that so would Gandalf probably
look like if he were the new Santa in the mall, a young Gandalf rebellion against his parents.
The lady on the other hand looked a bit more sophisticated and modest, but still
like someone from a Shakespearean play or the royal family from a century or two ago. Like her partner, she had a pair of boots, though whereas his were brown, hers was a polished black, knee-high black military boots. Despite the polished look, they appeared old. Her dress was a richly bottle green, very snug around her hips, and bosom. Her neckline was very modest, up to her chin, with a few elaborate flowers at the collar. Her sleeves were likewise covered in flowers working their way up her arms. Her dress was lifted up in one side, showing her dark-red petticoats underneath. She too had a strange tight jacket, with a high collar, stopping just short of her thighs, however presently her jacket lay discarded over her legs.
I felt out of place with my faded jeans, and second hand sweater, and for a second wished I had put on something a bit more colourful.
I did not want to stare too much so I looked out the window again, and that’s when they started talking.
“This is suicide, Albus,” whispered the lady, her voice sharp.
”Don’t worry, dear, we blend in nicely,” as I expected his voice was pleasant and had a ring in it, I just knew he was smiling. I was still looking out the
window, I didn’t dare turn around, I think they had quite forgotten me, and I found their conversation rather interesting. Not that I usually peek on others
conversations.
“Blend in nicely! Didn’t you see all the starring?”
She got no response, and for a while it was quiet in our cabin.
“It’s all your fault,” she whispered tartly.
“My fault?”
“Yes, if you had told me of this mission ten minutes before we had to go, instead of once in London, I would’ve found us some decent clothes.”
“It was a rather spontaneous plan, Molly has taken ill with some mysterious coughing, and Arthur was needed at the Ministry. It was quite lucky I came with the perfect idea that we could go instead. Alastor would’ve looked funny in a dress, don’t you think?”
She snorted loudly, her mouth becoming a fine straight line: “I still have no clue whatsoever, as to what I am doing here in a dirty train in London!”
“I cannot inform you right now, but it’s of the uttermost importance,” he said in a low voice.
“If it’s that important, how come we aren’t exactly doing this ‘incognito’,” her eyes flashed dangerously, her foot started tapping impatiently on the grim floor instead of her hand, which now rested on her thighs, knuckled into a tight ball of quiet fury.
He sighed loudly, but lowered his voice even more when he answered: “Any form of non-muggle activities,” he stopped and gave her a pointed look over his specs, “is forbidden on our journey, as it could endanger us unnecessarily.”
“Pah!”
I quickly looked out the window again, and tried to quieten the bubble of laughter threatening to burst. ‘Pah’ was the last thing I could ever imagine her to spit out, but she just had. ‘Albus’, what a name, had a small smile playing on his lips when I dared sneak a look at them again. I wondered what the heck they were talking about, for me they seemed to be talking in ciphers. What was a non-mukkel activity? Mysterious coughing? And apparently the government was involved in it! Maybe they were on some secret EU mission?
“As soon, as possible, I’ll take you shopping,” The old man - I refuse to call him Albus, is that even a name, I’m sure it’s not his real name in any case – spoke absently pointing at a building, mumbling about ‘creativity of muggles’. Again the word ‘mukkel’! I wonder what that could mean; obviously it must be a secret message, because the lady responded with a piercing look. Maybe they were not allowed to talk in codes in public?
“Shopping? muggle shopping, I daresay?”
“I know just the shop, where you can purchase decent clothes,” he gave her a big smile, and to my shock, she rolled her eyes, yet allowed a genuine smile to show on her face.
How can you go mukkel shopping? Still more codes to break. Decent clothes must mean something, something important regarding moggle shopping? I cannot see the connection at all.
“I’m pleased you are not considering wearing these outfits through the whole mission,” her smile was gone, and her face a mask of serenity.
“Well, I am after all the brightest crayon in the box,” he stated with a chuckle, shaking his head.
The lady shook her head too and mumbled something which sounded remotely like, ‘muggle proverbs’, the old man apparently heard her, for he offered her another smile. That’s one thing I’ve noticed about those two, the little smiles they pass along to the other, his smiles you can’t miss, but only a trained eye would notice hers too.
The train stopped suddenly, and I felt a little sad when I noticed the pair of them standing – so they’re getting off now – I have rather enjoyed their odd conversation. I looked out the window, and for a second I wondered why they were getting off here, until my eye landed on another peculiar person standing at the platform. Aha – an informant!
Getting off the train, they pretended not to see the cloak-clothed grimly looking man, wearing a most bizarre hat, covering half of his face, he walked up to them - a awkward trot I noticed – and gave them a grim nod. They formally returned it, and then started walking away, their informant looked left and right, forward and back, all the time, sneering at people passing by, he even gave the old man and lady an odd look, like he suspected them to leap up, and without more ado, turn into hideous tree-eyed monsters, and that look was a nice look considering all the other looks he gave everyone else. A most strange man – a most odd party in fact! I wondered what they were up to, and was quite annoyed that I’ll, in all probability, never find out.
Just before they were beyond my vision, the old man turned around, caught my eye, and gave me a little wink, before they were all gone. I gaped at the spot the tree people had just occupied, my mind bursting with questions, as the train settled into motion once again.
*
Pal
