". . . So then the blind Wizard says, "Merlin No! Not if I'm going to have to explain it three times!'" Laughter chorused around the Ravenclaw table and Peyton with a smile, shovelled some more eggs into his mouth. He thought he was done with growth spurts but between his rigorous Quidditch training and being a Seventeen year old boy he found his metabolism burned through anything he put in his stomach and though he ate like a Hippogriff he always felt hungry.

From further down the table a younger Ravenclaw pointed up to the enchanted ceiling, "Post's here!" Many students around him looked up as well and started to mill about as packages, letters and newspapers were dropped off at the four large tables around the Great Hall. The usual cacophony of noise in the Great Hall seemed to increase ten fold as the students began to rifle through their mail.

Peyton started as a blue envelope dropped into his breakfast knocking another forkful of eggs away from his mouth, "The hell?" He grabbed the envelop and looked to the owl who had delivered it, who had already left flying further down the table to drop something off with his little sister. He instantly recognized her as the family Owl but the letter he was holding wasn't from either one of his parents. In fact it was addressed to his actual home address not his address at Hogwarts and furthermore it had a muggle stamp in the upper corner.

He flipped the envelop over and began opening it. As soon as the envelope was fully opened the matching blue paper inside sprang out and floated in front of him. He was barely able to catch the words written out before music started to blare in the Great Hall, it was obviously from a muggle song, one he wasn't even familiar with but there was no mistaking the message behind the lyrics that sang out in a woman's voice, one Peyton believed to be the original artist of the song.

'Cause we belong together now, yeah
Forever united here somehow, yeah
You got a piece of me and honestly
My life would suck without you

It only played the chorus of the song but it was enough to draw attention to him the same way a Howler would have. In fact Peyton believed this was even worse. He snatched the paper from the air not wanting it to keep singing the song and looked at the signature on the bottom, 'Had a great time last week, can't wait to see you this Summer, Luv Steve.' Peyton didn't think it was possible to turn even more red than he already was but the reminder of the young muggle man he had met while down in Australia for Spring Break was enough to send him over the top. He had no idea how the young non magical Bloke had managed to enchant his letter but Peyton had a sneaking suspicion his parents had something to do with it.

Nicholas was helping himself to a kipper when the unmistakable sound of post arriving made him look up.  He wasn't expecting anything.  He'd already received a reply from the Obliviators over the holiday.  And he hadn't sent anything else, preferring to wait for the upcoming career fair.  But that didn't stop him from looking up.  He'd learned that lesson early.  Ignoring the post led to breakfast being splattered all over his clothes.  That and it was always fun to spot a howler before it started shouting.

He went back to his breakfast when nothing arrived for him, halfway through a mouthful of eggs music began playing in the Great Hall.  Not exactly a common occurrence. Turning on the bench to see the rest of the hall, he saw the culprit.  A letter floating in the air in front of the Ravenclaw quidditch captain.  Who was turning redder and redder.  As Peyton snatched it from the air, Nicholas called out, "Oi, Wentworth, Valentine's day was back in February."

Nicholas had heard the whole song several times over the holiday on the muggle radio.  And he could definitely see being that enamored with Wentworth, especially since he wasn't as stuffy as most the other Ravenclaws. But, if it were him, he'd be cursing whoever sent the 'love howler.'

Standing, Nicholas moved away from the Gryffindor table and made his way over to the Ravenclaw's, across from Peyton.  He was nosy.  He couldn't help it.  If it was closer to the quidditch match, he might have tried to cause the Ravenclaw quidditch captain a bit more embarrassment just to through him off his game.  He really did prefer when Gryffindor crushed the other houses, despite having no desire to play himself.  But that was still two weeks away.  So he was just going to be nosy.  He plucked a piece of toast from the Ravenclaw table as he forced his way on the bench to the grumbling of more than a few people.  "So who's the arse that thought that would be fun?"  Nicholas asked laughing, "I hope they at least sent something good along with it."

Peyton didn't think it was possible to turn more red but he definitely managed to hit the peak of human redness. He glanced around the table frantically catching sight of his sister giggling to her friends. He had a feeling there was a whole conspiracy between her and his mother. Afterall his mother was a muggle and his father had sworn off magic, who else could have managed to enchant the letter? He'd have to think more on that later as the letter itself, the blasted 'love howler' had managed to attract about as much attention as you could grab during breakfast in the Great Hall.

Peyton was emptying out the rest of the small envelope, terrified something else would pop out and start singing but all that slid out was a necklace - a leather strap with a sterling silver ring tied into it - and a photo. Thankfully the photo wasn't moving, he supposed it was harder to enchant a muggle photo than it was to enchant the letter itself.

He looked up when Bevans wiggled in across from him and offered the most natural of smiles he could muster, still as red as the Gryffindors house colours, "Its from a . . . date I had during Spring Break. Guess I made quite the impression." He shrugged wishing the blush would subside. He held up the necklace though he had already tucked away the photo. He felt the only thing that would make him even more embarrassed was showing off the very non moving photo of the Sandy Haired Aussie Rules Football player he had courted while down under.

"Not really one for jewelry but it's not bad. So long as it doesn't get in the way of Quidditch." Judging by the length of the leather strap it was designed to sit a little closer to his throat than most traditional necklaces.

Deborah sat quietly in the hall, fork toying absentmindedly with the food, while in her other hand was a book she’s procured specifically from the library. Every now and then she would let go of the fork only to push her glasses up, especially since they kept on slipping in the bridge of her patrician nose. She briefly wondered why on earth she didn’t agree to wearing lenses - but then again, they didn’t make sense for the woman as apparently, walking around in a blur wasn’t something she’d ever come to try. It wasn’t like someone will chastise her for wearing hand-me-down glasses anyway - no matter how ‘degrading’ it appears to be for most purebloods.

And when the post came, no one dared to come and question whose imposing raven it was that flew over their table, only to come and perch itself majestically on Clarencieux’s shoulder. Her mail, which consisted of nothing but just another sheet of vellum (she guessed, because that’s what it has always been lately) secured in an embossed envelope, sealed with their respective crest landed on her tea plate and she managed to catch a sniff of her grandmother’s expensive perfume before she promptly tossed it to the air, setting it on fire with her wand. The ashes quickly dispersed into thin air, catching the attention of nearby onlookers. “Junk mail.” she announced in an uninterested tone without looking up from her book, seemingly absorbed with its contents.

The only thing that distracted her once more from what she was doing was the sound of foreign music resounding over the Ravenclaw table. Deborah winced - leave it to the others not to leave her in peace. She set her fork down for a moment and carefully shut her book, the spine relaxing with Flo’s long, elegant fingers tracing it. Like the others, she found her eyes drawn to the centre of the attention and her brows knotted in confusion - not a look someone could’ve possibly noticed, not when they were too engrossed in partaking with the main conversation.

She loved being observant. The root of the noise seems to come from a certain Wentworth - who was far too red in the face for Flo to comprehend what it was drawing from. Anger? Embarrassment? The turn of events might be interesting enough to behold and from her seat, everyone was subject to her silent scrutiny. When something came to her attention though, Flo couldn’t help prevent the words from stumbling out.

“Might I ask what you have a collar for, Mister Wentworth?” she asked, one brow asked in question, her face a look of subtle surprise - and of course, amusement. Deborah doesn’t speak far too often, but when she does, it’s just as if everyone was listening raptly.

Nicholas laughed at Peyton's explanation. "That must have been one hell of a date."  No one had ever really made that much of an impression on him.  At no point had he ever had the desire to send someone an embarrassingly loud love letter.  Though now that he thought about it, he was tempted to send some to several people for the fun of it.

Leaning forward to look at the necklace, he rolled his eyes, "You'd take it off for quidditch of course."  The necklace wasn't the type he'd wear.  He pretty much stuck to his lion dog tag.

"So what's your secret?"  He paused for effect, "I want to make sure I never get a letter like that."  Gifts he'd always accept, sappy embarrassing letters he could do without.  He looked up as Flo asked about Peyton's new necklace.  He did his best not to roll his eyes, again.  Weren't witches supposed to understand things like jewelry.  Granted, there were supposedly limits within the uniform but still.

Frowning he looked at the girl, "Didn't you know, Wentworth here has always harbored a secret desire to be led around on a leash.   Wait." He looked back at Peyton, "Or was it, you wanted a dog?  I can't keep everyone's secret desires straight."  He put his arm around the Ravenclaw boy next to him still looking at Flo, "Take my friend here, he secretly wants to ask me out."  Turning to the boy next to him, he added, "Answers yes, as long as you don't send any letters like that," he pointed at the one Peyton had received.

“Ah, yes, yes - quite an unusual desire to have, I must say.” Deborah simply shrugged her shoulders, taking Nicholas’s frown as her signal to return to her own world. Everyone has heard what she said because like usual, she didn’t have that much to say. She didn’t know why people cared - and she didn’t care to care either. “Don’t we all have a lovely year ahead of us?” Flo proclaimed, her tone taking almost the same timbre as that of the Headmistress’s. She had her fork present in her hand again, and it has began its constant twirling of the pasta in her plate. Flo could almost say that she couldn't bear to stomach the food anymore, with its disgusting sauce smothered all over the dish.

“How thoughtful of your lover to have sent that though, Peyton.” she chuckled light-heartedly.

Unfortunately for the Slytherin, whatever she said next was unceremoniously elbowed out of the way by Connor’s own voice, which boomed throughout the table with its usual, obnoxious gusto. It was, perhaps, a bit delayed, all things considered, but surely a bit of tardiness could be forgiven. (Especially when premature timing was more his thing. What? He was fifteen.)

Surprising exactly no one (-except, of course, those who inexplicably were), it was the mention of a collar that drew his attention, rather than the flurry of owls that marked their arrival.

“Daaaaaaaaaaaamn, Wentworth,” the fourth year hooted, leaning forward in his seat so far that his bony (but perfect, obviously) ass lifted off the very bench. A little ways down the table, he leered at Peyton a leer so wide, it stretched broad and toothy across his long, thin face like a single entendre of the first degree. “You go, Captain. Wanna compare? I jes’ so happen t’ ‘ave one, too-”

And with what could only be described as ‘boyish excitement’, Connor shot to his feet and scrambled onto the bench– hips canting towards Peyton as he shoved a hand down his pants.

“Oh my GOD,” someone shrieked. And then there were hands– terrible, awful, oppressive hands –scrabbling desperately at his robes—hindered, maybe, by laughter.

Well this was just getting better and better. Peyton stared at the shy bookish Slytherin like a mooncalf caught in wandlight. He was trying to wrack his brain to remember her name despite having been in classes with her for so many years. The girl rarely, if ever, spoke and with the on going feud between him and his half brother he usually steered clear of anything in Green and Silver. Not to mention he just had no idea what to say about his necklace being called a collar.

Thankfully Bevans was quick on the draw. Peyton laughed along with the Gyrffindor as he spouted on about dogs and secret desires. As he joked about another Ravenclaw bloke having a secret desire to date him Peyton felt a pang of guilt that he had so quickly tucked away the picture that had accompanied the necklace, "I don't think you'd have to worry about that here."

Just as he thought he had a handle on his blush, the crimson starting to come out of his cheeks, the shy slytherin mentioned the word lover. Peyton definitely didn't have any lovers, not even Ryder had fallen into that category during their one night stand - for lack of a better word, "Oh he's not my lover," He said before he could stop himself, "I mean, we just, it was just a few dates during Spring Break." Though he doubted he could convince anyone about the lack of seriousness to their relationship given the letter.

Peyton couldn't help but smirk and shake his head when Connor Todd threw himself into the fray. Before anyone could stop him, despite their best efforts, the younger boy was grabbing into his robes to compare something with Peyton's. Peyton held up his hands, "Whoa, come now, no one wants to see that." He added jokingly.

Nicholas was confused by what appeared to be a change in topic by the Slytherin girl only for her to mention the necklace again a moment later.  Some people he was just not meant to understand.  Thankfully, or not, a young Ravenclaw down the table drew everyone's attention.  And was reaching down into his pants.  Given the reaction of several students around him, they seemed to think he'd actually do it.

"Oi, put it away, kid, you're just going to embarrass yourself," Nicholas shouted down the table.  While he had no desire to see what the boy was threatening to pull out, he nonetheless wanted to see if he'd follow through with most of the school, including more than a few prefects looking on.  He was more interested in Peyton's apparent not-lover.  Still watching the students around the Ravenclaw grappling to keep the boy in his pants, he glanced at Peyton, "Just a few dates?  You might remind him about that."  He gave his year-mate an appraising look, "Seems like he really enjoyed whatever it was you did."

As Todd offered a free show, and Peyton explained the details of his love life, Blythe Blackwell looked around, blinked, and dropped her backpack into a space on Nicholas’ free side. She decided that she might as well take the prime seat beside her non-housemate.

In sincerity, she was glad to see Nicholas at their table, but it would be a lie to suggest that this group needed a Gryffindor to prod them into party mode. Not all of the stereotypes about Rowena’s children were true. (As evidenced by the skinny fourth year and his disappearing hand.)

“Bevans, you’re leading Slytherin prefects astray.” Bright green eyes swept from Nicholas to Deborah Clarencieux as she climbed into her seat. She smiled a little as she reached for a pitcher. “Are we having some kind of convention?” She looked over her shoulder, toward the Slytherin table. Double-checking that Bran hadn’t decided on Chicago for the school musical.

She looked back again. Connor didn’t need that sort of prompting. Besides, she had deciphered from bits of the conversation that they were all prodding Peyton about his dating life. In their own unique ways. Eyes casually avoiding the fourth year, she looked to Peyton, then to Nicholas, then back to Peyton. “If that’s the case, whatever he enjoyed wasn’t what we’re enjoying now.” Todd's brand of entertainment was singular. She raised her cup in a sort of cheers to Peyton, and waited for him to say more.

Peyton was already so deep in the thick of it he doubted he could make it out of this one and he couldn't think of any way to turn the conversation around to start chatting about Quidditch (something he was much more adept at talking about) He decided if he was already stuck he might as well barrel through to the end of it. He had already said enough to draw attention from most of his housemates (along with mates from other houses) the latest of which being Lady Blackwell.

He reached back into his pocket and drew out the non moving photo of the young man with well chiseled features, a bare muscular chest holding and Aussie's Rule Football under his arm. He had short sandy brown hair and piercing green eyes that were almost as entrancing as Peyton's own cool grey blue ones. The two had gotten along famously, both being sports fanatics, though Peyton had to pretend to be interested in football^[1] (as he couldn't very well talk about Quidditch with the bloke) They had met through one of his cousins and had spent most of their Spring Break together.

He wasn't about to divulge what had made the other man so interested and decided to stick with the boring details, "His name's Steve, he's eighteen. He went to school with one of my cousins, that's how we met." Peyton didn't think he needed to add that his 'non-lover' was a muggle.

---

1. Soccer by American wording

"What can I say, Blythe?  I just have that effect on people."  He said with a grin.  Actually, other than a few Slytherins, he preferred to be as far away from them as possible.  Especially certain Slytherin prefects.  Though best not to think of him, lest he be summoned.  "No, I'm sure it was much more enjoyable.  Sausage?"  He said as he pushed the plate of sausages toward the newcomer with an innocent smile.


Nicholas whistled as he got a good look at the picture and reached out a hand to prod it into action.  When nothing happened, he looked crestfallen.  "Muggle picture," he mumbled.  He looked up at Peyton, "Well you certainly did well.  Too bad that doesn't show him in action with that."  He was truly a bit disappointed by that fact.  It was one of the perks of being a wizard that pictures of shirtless hunky blokes moved and showed off their hunky selves.

"Steve, huh?  Kinda plain for a spring fling."  He said laughing, "So what'd you do?  Head down under and ask your cousins if they had a sexy bloke who liked blokes for you to jump?"  He turned his head to the side, as if judging whether the Ravenclaw had it in him to do that.  He doubted his yearmate could be that blunt.  But who knew?"Not that I blame you.  Sounds like a solid plan.  Does he have any siblings who want to come to London for the summer, brother or sister, I'm not picky?  I've got a guest room and a soundproofing spell."   He smiled shamelessly.  He wasn't that desperate but he also wouldn't say no if Steve had a sibling who looked like him.

Blythe breathed audibly and did very little suppress her smile. It was the friendly equivalent of an eye roll. She raised the cup to her lips, fully intending to listen to Peyton’s exciting story, but then Nicholas offered the plate of breakfast meat, that thin veil of innocence on his face one she had seen before. Her eyes shot toward him over the brim of her juice. She pulled the cup away slowly. “Sure, why not?” She asked, picking up a fork. She offered him a smile and stabbed two of the sausages as she stared at him, doing her best to mirror his innocent expression. (It helped, that she had gotten in so much practice imitating her cousins… even if one of them was more likely to frown.)

She began to cut the first piece as her attention returned to Peyton, but there was humor in her expression meant for the boy in her peripheral. Even so, it was quite easy to pay attention. Blythe never had a hard to time listening to or discussing other people’s love lives, which always seemed to outdo the next.

“His name’s the only plain thing about him,” Blythe countered, peering over the picture as she popped a bite into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. She left it to Nicholas to get the rest of the information and reached for juice again. “Good job, Peyton. That muggle picture is better than both of my brothers’ wizarding pictures combined.” (Which was not to say that the Blackwells weren’t attractive, only that Blythe didn’t dig her own brothers like that.)

Nicholas had no qualms asking about brothers. “That’s charitable of you.” She grinned before tucking back into her breakfast.

Peyton took the picture back and smiled a bit. He was a little disappointed himself. He wouldn't have minded having a moving picture that encapsulated the bliss of his Spring Break. He shook his head at Nicholas though, "Hardly. My cousin doesn't even know . . . you know?" Peyton had only been out for a year himself and even at that had never really said it out loud. He had never denied it though even if he had been rather dense about realizing it. He hadn't even had the 'talk' with his parents about it yet though he had little doubt that they already knew it about him. They were rather close after all (or rather they had been close until Peyton became privy to his Father's secret past)

"If I ask him to come up for the summer I'll see if he feels like bringing some company with him." He gave Nick a smile. He hadn't really met too much of Steve's family but he knew there was at least one sister and one brother floating around. Then again he wasn't even sure if Nicholas was being truthful or if he was just taking the piss.

He turned his smile to Blythe, "Thanks for the approval." He wasn't one to be sarcastic nor was he being so now. He did indeed feel better that she approved. In fact the whole conversation was making him feel better about the entire embarrassing situation he had found himself in. Not just the song ringing through the Great Hall but talking about his love life as well. It was something he hadn't really had before and he wasn't used to talking about it now that he apparently had one.

Nicholas gave Blythe a scandalized look when she stabbed the sausage.  He did his best not to grimace at the mere suggestion of the act.  He turned back to Peyton quickly, before Blythe could mime something even more disturbing at him.

"Wait.  So it was a secret spring fling?"  He barked a short laugh, "That either makes it ten times sexier or just really depressing."  He really wasn't sure which.  He'd always been open with where his interests lay.  Maybe too open at times.  Then again, he wasn't sure if the one cousin he knew about knew.  But that wasn't for lack of telling her, it just had  never come up.

"Just cause you can't get rid of your brothers is no reason to be jealous, Blythe."  He responded without looking at her, and giving her the opportunity to stab anything else in the vicinity with a fork.  "Too bad you can't just apparate him here.  Or fly him up on the back of your broom.  That'd be romantic." Nicholas paused for a moment before continuing, "though a big hard broom stick between your legs might lead to things not easily done in the air."