(A/N: I know, I know, I went afk for long and didn't say anything. In my defence, I had a pretty big succession of real life problems that made it nearly impossible to sit down and write much less publish anything decent. Still, you know the drill, 3 new chapter in Sheo.bio and two here. Link in the comments Enjoy!)
Meals at Hogwarts were not a quiet affair, not at all. The smell of food both delicious and plentiful filled the air, the students so numerous one could hardly count them all. People chatted and argued and ate, sometimes at the same time, Magnus noted looking at Weasley.
"Frenchie isn't here?" Padma asked him, looking at her plate with distaste, she had recently started an all green diet and showed as much enthusiasm as he expected. " Didn't expect you to let her out of sight."
"She has her own life." He shrugged, cutting his meat. "And eating at the great hall doesn't quite agree with her."
Padma hummed, debating what to say.
"Are you two an item?" Luna didn't have the same reservations.
Magnus expected this kind of question eventually, just not this soon. Then again, he might've underestimated the little chipmunk's shamelessness.
"That's a very crude way to say." He scrunched his nose. "No, we are not courting."
"Courting." Padma giggled, but he didn't mind her.
"But you will try to...court her, eventually, right?" Luna bobbed her head, not waiting for an answer.
Magnus didn't answer, partly because of the many noisy brats nearby, and partly because it was painfully obvious that he was interested in her.
Hopefully, Fleur would feel the same way.
"But courting, really?" Padma was still smiling. "You've taken to the pureblood scion thing very well."
He frowned, not liking any more similarity to Malfoy and his kind than he already had.
"Don't call me that, and my views on relationships have nothing to do with blood status," He rolled his eyes, "Let's just say I'm old fashioned."
"How old fashioned?" She said,
"Sweep you off your feet and seduce you through many months once I've got to know you before asking you out with the firm intention to ask for your hand, kind of old fashioned." Magnus said after some thought, before nodding, satisfied with his answer.
Padma looked at him for a moment, her expression unreadable before she shook her head with a smile. She mumbled under her breath, but he didn't quite catch it.
"What?" He tilted his head.
"Nothing." She grinned. "You just keep rising my expectations for a future boyfriend, I might end up alone at this rate."
He rolled his eyes.
"No you won't," After a bit of silence, he added. "Just don't expect him to live up to me, few people can."
No one can, he wanted to say, but that would be too arrogant, wouldn't it?
"Can't say you're wrong," Padma shook her head, "But being old fashioned has its advantages."
"Like what?"
Luna grinned, answering before she could.
"Fleur's father is less likely to murder you."
That...was very true.
"I've gotta go." He wandlessly cast a cleaning charms on himself, before looking at Luna. "You finish your meal."
"Yes, dad." She said, but nodded anyway.
"And you…" He looked at Padma, or more precisely, the insult to cuisine that was her lunch. "Why on earth would you eat that?"
"It's healthier." She insisted, even though she looked even more disgusted than him. "And I'll have a better figure if I follow a diet."
"According to who, Lavender Brown?" He asked with a grimace.
She stayed silent.
"Goddamn, Padma!"
"It's not as bad as you think." She placated him, Luna just giggled on the side.
"Not as bad? You're having the same meal as Shaun the Sheep." He didn't even know half those veggies.
A few muggleborns and half-bloods got him, and chuckled before explaining to their more inbred classmates.
"I'm telling you, meat is life."
"I'll become obese!"
"Not if you exercise." He grinned, getting away from Padma's pastures.
Unbeknownst to him, the perfected cleaning machines converted into kitchen staff called the Hogwarts House elves were listening in, nodding at his every word.
"I told you Harry Potter's Scary Friend was great!" Said a bald elf wearing a purple boa, mismatched socks, a pink boxing trunk with a blue hoodie and luxury sunglasses.
"Shut up Dobby, you're still in elf jail." Said an older looking elf.
"No, not anymore." He smiled dangerously "But it isn't about me, but the Scary Friend, he knows his stuff!"
"True." "Will he let me wash his clothes?" "I'll make him a cake."
A few approbations were said, and Dobby disappeared from view at that moment.
That day, Magnus made many, very powerful allies.
Moral of the story, eat meat and stay the fuck away from Dobby Tate.
(Cheesy Trivia: The Top D is preparing his own Elvish Camgirls service thanks to the Maj-TV created by three Hogwarts students in their spare time. Disgusting, yes, but there is demand.)
…
Magnus took a couple secret passages, walked through what might just be a tomb, went down the dungeons and somehow found himself in the seventh corridor of the third floor near his dear friend Ser Barnabas the Barmy.
"Morning sir, have you seen anyone?" He waved the demented wizard, wincing when he almost got crushed by a Troll Club.
"Not a soul." He jumped away, wiping the nonexistent dust out of his clothes. "Did you see this? There was some grace in that hit, it's progress!"
"Good luck, sir Barnabas." Magnus smiled at the poor man, why would he ever put himself in such a painting?
Ah yes, he was barmy.
He walked by three times, of course invisible lest someone walks by and think there were two madmen in the seventh corridor, and of course the door appeared again.
'I need a room to practice offensive transfiguration.'
The Room of Requirement catered to his needs, giving him a large space with multiple biomes he could use. Water, stones and sands. Many training dummies were littered about, all of them dressed in plum coloured robes much to his amusement.
Near the door, which he quickly desired hidden from the outside world, there was a comfy looking sofa with a lot of books old and new resting on it.
'Abraxel Cinder's Guide to Elemental Defence.'
'Environmental Control for the Learned.'
'Fire and Thunder; a Treatise.'
Yes, Magnus loved the Room of Requirements.
He loved it so much that he spent a whole afternoon in it, then another one, then another. Until all these times and many others have been read, reread, implemented and assimilated into his spell repertoire.
'I always loved burning things, after all.'
Especially pink, disgusting toadish scumbitches that didn't consider his sweet flower to be a person with rights.
Later that night, he transformed and flew away in the Forbidden Forest for another Lockhart Hunt (Making sure to stay away from the dragons, they burned some of his feathers last time he got curious.).
Cast dark curses, summoned the demonic flames he could barely restrain much less control and came back to the dorms battered and beat.
Spend time with Fleur, have fun with his friends, write to Sirius and the Tonkses, tea with McGonagall and work himself to the bone the rest of the time.
Rinse and repeat everyday, until he finally learns.
Before he knew it, November was about to end and the first task approached. Fleur was ready, he knew it, she'd have been ok even without his intervention.
Then why was he worrying this much?