Autumn had always been Basil’s favorite season. Ever since he could remember, the brisk crispness of the season and the coziness of curling up with a cup of tea while he watched the leaves change had been a dear comfort to the boy. (Atticus used to tease him that he was born an old man, with a cup of tea and a book in his hands, but Mama had always frowned at them and commented how ridiculously uncomfortable that would have been. He didn’t know why, per say, but he supposed being born with a book attached to one would be rather strange…) With autumn came many splendid things however, like apple flavored drinks and pumpkin pasties! Pumpkin pasties were his favorite. Too though came less pleasant things like All Hallows Eve, and being scared out of one’s wits. Basil was not keen on fear, or pranks. In fact, he generally avoided both as much as possible. The feast this year was splendid as always. Basil had eaten his weight in pumpkin pasties and other nonsense that he usually abstained from. Then, setting off to the library to wait out the rest of the evening away from those in his house or others that liked to take the spirit of things too far, Basil tucked a thick tomb under his arm and waddled off. Time passed quickly curled up in front of the fire reading about Samhein. (He might not enjoy the spooky traditions, but reading up and informing oneself on them was another thing entirely.) It was nearly midnight before the Ravenclaw realized and he blinked the reading haze from his eyes, in confusion. Why had the librarian not shoo’d him off to bed yet? Surely they had realized the hour?
Shutting the book, Basil stretched a bit and decided he might as well creep out while he could. There was no sense in getting detention, again, for something silly. Not that… last time he hadn’t deserved it. Even if Macnair had tried to save him from it.
Basil’s cheeks heated at the thought of that day and landing on top of Agrimony Macnair in their tumble. He didn’t know why but the reminder made him feel antsy and warm under the collar. Recently Basil had noticed he was much more… aware of Macnair’s presence than before. Where once they were veritable strangers from two different houses in a rather large school, now they seemed to run into one another at every turn. Basil couldn’t say he was displeased with the development, really. He was starting to find he actually rather liked Macnair’s company. The Slytherin was… quiet. Peaceful to sit with even, and intelligent. There was just something about the way his brain worked that fascinated the Ravenclaw.
It was with these thoughts that Basil made his way from the library back towards Ravenclaw Tower. He was surprised then when a shadow seemed to appear from nowhere and slip out of the castle a bit of a ways away. Before he could round the corner and mind his own business, as students out of bed were prefect problems not his, a ray of moonlight illuminated the hooded face and Basil started. Speak of the bloody devil…
For a moment, Basil hesitated. Really, it was none of his business what Macnair was up to at this time of night. He ought to mind his own business and steal off to his dorm before getting caught out of bed himself! But then, what was it they said about curiosity and cats? Basil made up his mind before he could think better of it and made to follow Macnair out onto the grounds. He could recall the other, get them both safely back to bed, right?
As he stole cautiously behind the figure, Basil was surprised at the stealth with which the Slytherin moved. Even more surprised was he at the direction. A frown creased the brunette's brow as he debated hissing into the darkness after the other. He’d just about made up his mind to do it when all of a sudden, Macnair vanished. Basil slowed, already too uncomfortably close to the edge of the Forbidden Forest. His pulse was racing as he crept forward and then a stick snapped under his foot.
Instantly, Basil felt something launch upon him and he stilled, hands coming out in front of himself in surrender, book still clutched firmly. A wand poked into his head making the brunette grimace even as that familiar voice curled into his ear. Basil frowned. “Agrimony,” he stressed the unfamiliar syllables with a chiding whisper into the relative silence around them. (They tasted foreign on his tongue.) “It’s me, Foxwood.”
Agrimony Macnair & this time it's more relevant right? <3 muse song