Troubled [rufus]

[classy=bronzeeagle]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 430px; background: url(http://i1181.photobucket.com/albums/x421/shikatoshi/Patterns4Gfx/5595592974_656460ba42_m.jpg); -webkit-border-radius: 20px; -moz-border-radius: 20px; border-radius: 20px;, btable][atrb=vertical-align:top][classy=sigil][/classy] APAWNTOCENTER ♛ spurs a knight to counter ♛ [/style] [style=width: 236px; height: 316px; background: url(http://i1181.photobucket.com/albums/x421/shikatoshi/Patterns4Gfx/Untitled.jpg); overflow: auto; font-family: garamond; font-size: 10.5px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px 10px; color: #171717; border-radius: 0px 5px 5px 2px; margin-top: -87px; margin-left: 110px]Marcus made his way through the lower levels of the castle, looking oddly calm and composed. Now that it was past curfew, there was no one to notice the Transfiguration Head's courageous feat. It had been an arduous week for the professor. Not because of class, but for the rather disturbing news he'd received from home. News that was bad enough to keep him away from his manor. What made the week doubly worse, was his insistence to make it seem as though nothing was wrong. The forced smiles and deliberately light-hearted tones he'd managed as he conducted his business of teaching and 'mingling' with his colleagues were well-practised since his youth. He doubted anyone had noticed anything amiss. Well, perhaps not everyone... There was that one person who had always seemed to be able to see right through him, cleanly taking down the many layers of false fronts Marcus was able to build for himself. Likewise, Marcus was always able to read him as accurately he'd been read as well. And it was to this person that the weary professor had decided to visit. If Rufus hadn't noticed how troubled Marcus was during the week though, he certainly would now. Marcus never went past the entrance leading to the basement and dungeons. Not since his mishap in his fifth year. Rufus had been there on that occasion as well. God how he'd hated the man then. Ironically, they were now the best of friends. Marcus had grown to trust the Slytherin head almost as much as he trusted himself in most matters. Almost. Marcus rubbed the length of his arm briefly as he neared the portrait leading to the potions master's office. Even with the double dose of his Draught of Peace, Marcus would feel a slight tingle of panic gnawing at the edge of his consciousness. "Lady Gwendaline," he greeted, his voice rendered almost monotonous by the almost-overdose. "I wish to see Professor Irving." "Professor Dunesworth," a wide-eyed Victorian-witch gasped with her painted hands clapped across her rosy lips. There was a brief moment of silence where the lady collected herself. "I'll get him right away," she said before disappearing from the canvas. Marcus took no umbrage at the painting's astonishment. Marcus' phobia was common knowledge, after all. That, and Marcus had always sent Freyr whenever he needed to consult with Rufus.

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[classy=silverserpent]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 430px; background: url(http://i1181.photobucket.com/albums/x421/shikatoshi/Patterns4Gfx/154.jpg); -webkit-border-radius: 20px; -moz-border-radius: 20px; border-radius: 20px;, btable][atrb=vertical-align:top][classy=sigil][/classy] APAWNFORAROOK ♜ a knight for a king ♜ [/style] [style=width: 233px; height: 316px; background: url(http://i.imgur.com/HtpCd.jpg); overflow: auto; font-family: garamond; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px 10px; color: #171717; border-radius: 0px 5px 5px 2px; margin-top: -87px; margin-left: 110px]Rufus was in his office, as he always was whenever he wasn't due somewhere else. After all, he was somewhat obliged to be here in case a student needed to seek him out for help, academic or otherwise. Contrary to what people usually thought of him, Rufus was going through a study plan he had concocted from the sixth year students. A perfectionist such as himself would never live it down if he just 'winged' everything. Although his outward appearance was no less mild that it usually was, the Potions Master found that he was just a little bit restless off late. It wasn't because of a problem he was encountering. Not really, per se. In truth, Rufus would have preferred it such. At least he would be in a position to counter the restlessness. Alas, he was to quietly sit by at the sidelines and watch his best friend. As expected of the Ravenclaw head, the man kept his composure so well that Rufus didn't think anyone else knew. But having observed his long-time rival for so many years, it would take a miracle for Marcus to hide something that disturbed him so greatly from Rufus' keen eyes. Yet, the Potions Master hadn't made any move to confront Marcus with whatever was bothering him. At the very least, Rufus trusted Marcus to be a man of sense, sensibility and skill. Marcus would be able to handle likely anything he was faced with, he was sure. And when he didn't, Rufus thought Marcus had the sensibility to conclude that it was something he couldn't finish alone and would, in time, seek help if it really came to that. In that mean time, it was hardly Rufus' place to speak up. A dainty voice cleared her throat, making the blonde wizard look up from the parchment. It was, of course, Lady Gwendaline. "Professor, Professor Dunesworth is at the door," her tone was unsure, as if she wasn't quite believing what she was saying. It meant a possibility for two things, of course. Either 'a', Marcus was really at the door, or 'b', some students had managed to talk Lady Gwendaline into playing a part in their prank with the Potions Master as the victim. Without a doubt, Rufus knew which one was more likely. The latter, of course. Marcus hadn't set foot down in the dungeons since their fifth year and even then, it was against the boy's will. However... considering Marcus' state off late... Just what sort of trouble was the Ravenclaw head facing? "Let him in, Lady," Rufus nodded, rolling up the study plan and magicking it back to a far shelf. It wouldn't do to be caught actually planning something, of course. The lady in the portrait nodded and disappeared around the front. A moment later, the portrait swung open to reveal, indeed, the Transfiguration professor. "Marcus, do come in."

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[classy=bronzeeagle]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=style, width: 380px; height: 430px; background: url(http://i1181.photobucket.com/albums/x421/shikatoshi/Patterns4Gfx/5595592974_656460ba42_m.jpg); -webkit-border-radius: 20px; -moz-border-radius: 20px; border-radius: 20px;, btable][atrb=vertical-align:top][classy=sigil][/classy] APAWNTOCENTER ♛ spurs a knight to counter ♛ [/style] [style=width: 236px; height: 316px; background: url(http://i1181.photobucket.com/albums/x421/shikatoshi/Patterns4Gfx/Untitled.jpg); overflow: auto; font-family: garamond; font-size: 10.5px; text-align: justify; padding: 10px 10px; color: #171717; border-radius: 0px 5px 5px 2px; margin-top: -87px; margin-left: 110px]There was a short lag before the portrait to the Slytherin Head's office swung open and no sooner had it done so, Rufus' voice carried across the room from where he stood, inviting him in. Marcus did just that, with the potion he took adding but the tiniest sway to his gait. "Evening, Rufus. Thank you kindly," he replied, again with his voice bearing the lightest impression of a dulled blade. These tell tale signs were masked with exceptional effort, although Marcus had little doubt that an experienced potioneer like Rufus would be able to notice them. Marcus couldn't help but feel just a little conscious of himself at the thought. After all, he had adamantly refused to visit the dungeons during his school days even after they'd tested the Draught of Peace on his paranoia with success. It was simply against his principles to sedate himself in the face of his fears. Not that his stubbornness had done anything to lessen the phobia. No, after three decades, Marcus had remained pointedly fearful of the underground. Which is why he'd thought it odd that Rufus hadn't suspected foul play. Or maybe he had. Marcus had an inexplicably strong feeling that he had intruded on something he wasn't meant to see. That wouldn't have surprised him. It was past curfew and certainly, Rufus would not have expected guests at this hour, least of all Marcus Dunesworth. The portrait swung to a close, and Marcus, exhausted with his week-long facade of falsehoods, allowed a part of his calm countenance to fall away. "Necromancy," the topic of conversation came out immediately without any form of dressing or guise as the Transfiguration professor picked his way just a little clumsily through the piles of... mess that were strewn over Rufus' office. Marcus' eyes sought for Rufus' and there was a distinct weariness when black orbs - looking slightly dilated from the potion - caught onto red and gold. It was suddenly fascinating how the Slytherin Head was born sporting Gryffindor colours. Said fascination lasted only a fraction of a second. "He's obsessed with necromancy," he elaborated. Good heavens, where was a chair when he needed one? And dear God, he hoped that he hadn't made a mistake coming here tonight.

[/classy]
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