[saé] escaping time. [léon]

Léon wasn’t completely oblivious to the muggle world and spent a lot of time indulging it in when he was home, though his interests did not venture as far as science. But, he did know what Jaspar was referring to and was impressed that the wizard knew about all of these things in the first place. It probably didn’t win him over any friends (or girls for that matter) considering how magically-oriented most of the students at Beauxbatons tended to be in his opinion but it did make him a little more interesting than he was when he thought he was just a clumsy, shy weirdo. “Like an airplane,” he nodded, “I’ve heard of them,” he added but he would probably never get on one, seemed expensive.

“Music is not about math,” he countered almost immediately, “it’s about creative expression, once you reduce it to notes it’s not even music anymore,” he frowned a little at the thought. He figured it was things like these that set both of their houses apart. He couldn’t even begin to understand how anyone could reduce something as beautiful as music to a set of equations. But it also played into his insecurity about not being able to read music as well as he would have liked.

There was math to it that Léon completely chose to ignore and it hurt his performances, he had been told that before. His interest in Medical Studies, however, was strictly Gabrielle, but he could play that off too, “Yeah, I’m not bad at it, it’s pretty interesting,” he agreed. It was interesting, but then well, there was Gabrielle.

Of course, when he had volunteered Jaspar to tell his story, he had not anticipated that his story would actually be interesting and that it would take the attention that the little old ladies had invested in him. It probably seemed silly to an outsider for someone like Léon Lachapelle, and his degree of popularity, to be clamoring for the attention of some old witches but the summer had been a sensitive time, particularly in regards to the lack of attention he was receiving from his parents as they divorced and it in turn made him sensitive about little things like this.

“Sending a balloon is more reliable than tea leaves?” he scoffed, “don’t bore these lovely ladies to death, Jaspar, tell us a good story,” he insisted, taking a seat in between two of the ladies as he began distributing the rest of the pieces. It had been a good story and if Leon hadn't been so concerned with trying to be a jerk at the time, he would have appreciated it. "I went to a very nice French club over the summer, do either of you know about Serge Gainsbourg?" he asked the two women he was next to.

Jaspar felt strange when Léon corrected him, but even though he knew there was math in music, he immediately retreated. "Yeah, you're right," He said slow and quiet, his eyes slinking to the ground and his cheeks turning a little red. Jaspar wasn't the sort to stand up for what he thought or believed in. He'd rather sink into the wall and pretend like he didn't exist than get into an argument. It wasn't so bad though, a life without confrontation was something to be proud of; that was what his father, a liaison with the muggle affairs office, had always said.

Eventually, the game was set up, and the little bingo balls stopped squeaking at him as he closed the narrow door of the golden spinner. Telling the others about his summer internship had felt inspiring. And the reaction from the older witches was terrific; it made Jaspar feel like a balloon, all inflated and smart. He smiled briefly, but it was cut short as the Papilonlisse spoke again. The scoff was picked up, and Jaspar almost immediately backed up. He didn't think it was a boring story, but he supposed Léon knew better than he did in these sorts of matters.

"Oh, um," He was lost now and had no idea what to tell them about. One of the girls had accidentally dissolved her fingernail in a chemical solution? It was disgusting, Jaspar had thrown up when he saw it, but would they find that interesting? Another wizard had claimed to make contact with intelligent life from outside of their solar system; no one believed him, not even Jaspar, but that was a fun story, right? He sighed, resigning to say nothing, and gave the golden thing a big spin. It clicked, and the balls rolled around nosily as Léon started in on what was sure to be a better story.

"B43," Jaspar said dryly, ignoring the fact that another one of the balls had tried to bite him as he pulled the one he had out of the bin. He hated wizarding Bingo; it was violent, just like Wizard's Chess. It was like everything they made had to be a little more dangerous precisely because it could be. Science wasn't like that. It was clear-cut and empirical, and he loved it. "Who is Serge Gainsbourg?" Jaspar asked, giving the bin another lazy spin.

Jaspar didn’t put up much of a fight, which only made it easier for Léon to find ways to undermine his intelligence; it wasn’t something that he was consciously doing, in the sense that he hadn’t come here with the explicit intention to outshine anyone, especially not Jaspar Travars. From the little that the Papillonlise knew about him, though it should have been much more if one took into consideration the amount of time the two had spent in school together, it was obvious that Jaspar didn’t do himself any favors in the popularity department. In Medical Studies the last term, Léon couldn’t even remember seeing him there more than a handful of times, but then again, the boy had probably been distracted by his group of friends, a group that Jaspar had no business in.

A part of him was waiting for Jaspar to counter with an even more entertaining story, but when he had not, Léon found himself settling back into his chair and claiming a silent victory. It was nice to feel triumphant once in a while, even at the expense of other people or in situations like these where these victories were of no consequence. But just as quickly, he was filled with a little guilt at the thought that he had sort of become that person that embarrassed others for the hell of it, only because he had unresolved emotional issues that he couldn’t come to terms with. It probably explained why he was friends with the boys he was friends with.

Léon looked over at the Bingo card of his neighbor, discreetly tapping n the B43 on her paper so as to not bring too much attention to the fact that she needed help finding it. He turned back to Jaspar and smiled at his question, “Only one of the most prolific French muggle musicians of all time,” he countered nonchalantly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, the expression on his face making it obvious that he was surprised Jaspar didn’t know. “You know all about science and not about muggle culture? That’s weird, isn’t it, Mrs. Boucher?” he asked, eyeing the nametag on the woman’s lime green sweater. "Oh I don't know dear," she stated with a smile, "I kind of liked Jaspar's story about the science, didn't you?" she turned to the other woman. Fine, the boy decided, he'd give him a little bit of the spotlight if he had to. But only on his terms.

“So you're intending to get into muggle science, then? What does your grandma think about that?"  he asked. Léon didn’t actually want to tell a story, he sort of wanted to feel cultured next to Jaspar. Old ladies liked that sort of thing.

Only one of the most prolific French muggle musicians of all time, the words hit Jaspar like a sack of bricks, and he blushed. Should he have known that? He had just been gushing about the muggle world and all, he felt like he should have, but it was too late to pretend now. Jaspar wasn't as into art as his counterpart seemed to be. Just another thing they were utterly opposite about, he supposed.

Jaspar shrugged, opening his mouth to answer when Léon asked if his lack of knowledge was weird, but then realized the question wasn't for him. Returning to phasing in and out of existence, the wizard rolled the balls around the bin and waited for one of them to hop into his hand instead of reaching this time. He liked his fingers attached.

"I12," he told them, hoping now that Mrs. Boucher would win because she was saying nice things and had kind eyes. Until Léon and the other two ladies seemed to giggle at anything the other wizard had to say. Jaspar felt more on the spot now than he had all day, and it was showing in the near purple patches on his typically pale cheeks.

Just when he had resigned to read the numbers and otherwise not be a part of this conversation, Léon called him out again, and Jaspar gulped. "Uh," His grandmother didn't like anything muggle, and Jaspar knew it. He felt like he might have hinted at that earlier, or maybe he had just thought it loudly, but either way, it felt like Léon was picking on him for it. Jaspar glanced between the ladies and back to Léon before shrugging. "I don't think she likes it, but my parents said not to worry about that," Jaspar's parents were super supportive of his dreams, and he was thankful for that.

If he had even a cardboard backbone, Jaspar might have returned the question, or stuck up for himself, or anything, but instead, his eyes found some super exciting spots on the carpet to stare at.

Léon could not care less about Jaspar’s grandmother or her opinions on muggles, well he could have cared less by not caring about it at all but he thought it could be the beginnings of a very interesting conversation. “What do you think, ladies?” he started, putting his hand on the back of one of the old lady’s chair, as he turned towards her, considering the situation, “how would you feel if your grandson went against your wishes? Sounds scandalous, doesn’t it?” he added.

One of the women nodded profusely, but the other two took it in stride. “You’ve got an inheritance on the line or something like that?” he asked, wondering if there was any way to up the ante into the very dramatic story he was making out of Jaspar’s life.

“But I mean muggle science isn’t that bad now, is it?” he offered advice that Jaspar had not asked for, but it made him feel wise sitting among the attention of these senior citizens and having the boy do all the work. “Not like you’re trying to be a musician like me, now that’s the true struggle,” he added, making a face in order to incite a little pity. His dad had made a fuss about it but Léon had learned to disregard the man’s thoughts on anything that had to do with music or the arts. But no one else in his family cared, and if they did, they hadn’t mentioned it at all.

“So be honest, Jaspar,” he started, his smile growing at the thought of digging deeper into Jaspar, mostly for the sake of his own entertainment. “You’re going into the field for the ladies? I heard that’s exactly the sort girls go for these days, right, Mrs. Boucher?” he asked but didn’t really wait for her to agree or disagree, “I mean if I were a girl, I’d be all over a nerd, too, who cares about the starving artist when I’ve got science!” he said dramatically.

Was it scandalous? Jaspar was having a hard time keeping up with all of this and running the bingo game. He couldn't shake the feeling like he was becoming the game to Léon. Like he was the entertainment. And he hated it. His palms were sweaty as he ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick straight up and getting him a look from one of the little ladies. This was a disaster.

"Uh, no?" No inheritance, Jaspar's family was pureblood, but they weren't that sort of family. He didn't have anything waiting for him when he graduated except for maybe a little bit of cash from his parents and a card. Which was fine; he wasn't hurting about it, but the way that Léon implied it made him feel weird either way. An inheritance or not, Jaspar hated feeling like he was being judged. He always felt like this. He wasn't good enough like he should try harder or be someone else, and it was exhausting.

He figured Léon was right about music being more of a struggle as he let the other wizard influence every one of his thoughts without much of a fight. And then Léon started talking about witches, and Jaspar knew better than to think there was anything authentic behind his words. He was making fun of him now, Jaspar could tell, but it wasn't like he would do anything about it. Seven years at Beauxbatons, seven years of bullying, and he wasn't about to start sticking up for himself now.

Times like these made him wish he was someone else, anyone else, but especially the kind of person who wouldn't let someone else walk all over him. "Don't you listen to him none, sweetheart, the science is a noble goal," One of the women said because apparently, Jaspar needed a ninety-year-old lady to stick up for him, but the way she had called it the science again just made him feel worse?

"Can we just play the game and talk about something else?" He asked nervously, kicking at the ground before adding, "Please?"

No inheritance? Well that drama had certainly lost ratings almost immediately. Léon could not imagine that anyone’s life could be complete without a little drama, but only because he was too aware of the drama in his own life and how much he wished it on someone else. Probably not Jaspar, he seemed like a decent kid, but someone he didn’t like, and there were plenty of people that Léon did not care for, particularly in the Ombrelune house.

Either way, Léon also sort of wished that he would play along to entertain the ladies instead of sticking to whatever moral code was keeping him so uninspired. No wonder the two of them were not friends, he thought, without really considering that most of the people he called “friends” tolerated him because they felt bad for him.

To make matters more hilarious (or worse depending on whose side you were on) the elderly lady to his side had stuck up for him by calling it that science as if it were a group of foreign things that nobody cared about, which was mostly true but the woman just emphasized it. Léon naturally, burst out into laughter, standing up to move next to him and reach into the cage himself to keep the game going.

He almost dropped the ball as he pulled it out, those things were much nastier than she had remembered. “N3” he called out, turning to Jaspar when he told him to back off. Well, it hadn’t been like that aggressive it was like sort of a nice little request wrapped in a bow.

And it kind of made him feel guilty, but he wasn’t about to apologize in front of these ladies. Instead, he patted Jaspar on the back and grinned, “Sure thing, buddy,” he said, he was mocking him a little bit. “Any topics in mind?” he asked, arching an eyebrow in his direction and waiting expectantly.

Jaspar felt like the pat on the back was a lot harder than it needed to be, or maybe it was just because he lacked the muscle definition that the Quidditch captain next to him obviously had. It was going to bruise, or he was being a baby, but the pain radiated down his back as he shrugged. "Not really, no," He should have considered this before speaking. This was why he typically didn't say things. Saying things got him into trouble, and he hated this sort of trouble. Taking a deep breath, Jaspar tried to calm his nerves, but it was becoming more and more difficult to do so. He would have been calmer working in the stables, and the wizard was incredibly afraid of the Abraxans, so that said a lot.

"Uh, Madams, why don't you tell us about yourselves?" Was madams the plural of madam? Jaspar couldn't help but ask himself as he said it out loud. His native French was nothing up against his obnoxious nervousness; it seemed. The women didn't seem to notice, though, and Jaspar thanked them silently with his eyes as they lit up and prepared to regale them. "Ouch," Jaspar jolted away from the bingo balls that they had been setting to the side on the table. One of them had rolled over to where he was standing and latched itself onto his fingers. "Why?" He mouthed, shaking his hand and trying to get B43 to let his fingertip go.

Léon quickly realized that the more Jaspar talked, the less he said. No wonder the poor boy thought muggle science was the career choice for him, the Qudiditch captain considered, he would probably want to alienate himself from the world if he got flustered around little old ladies, too. And to make matters worse, the ones they were talking to were absolutely harmless, had not even said a word in opposition to all the nonsense he had gotten into, and yet, he had almost immediately retreated and did not have much of anything to say on the topic that the boy had only just brought up. “Then you better stick to the bingo balls, eh?” Léon pitched in, wondering what he had done to deserve having to take the lead in all situations. Then again, it only made his head ten times bigger than it already was.

“Oh yes, I’d love to know what little stories you’ve got for us!” Léon said enthusiastically, listening attentively as the women struggled on where to start. He wondered what sort of things the women would come up with, especially Mrs. Boucher, she looked like she was a lively one when she was younger, he could sort of even tell what she might have looked like a long time ago, she had a very pleasant face indeed. As an artist, Léon noticed the smallest of things, but just as he was going to ask a question, Jaspar distracted him and the boy frowned as he realized why he was making so much noise. This boy really was something else, it seemed like all of the bad luck in the universe was directed at him.

Reaching over to yank the bingo ball off of his finger, which probably only hurt more in the process than trying to coax it off he tossed the ball away from them, “Nasty little things, you’re supposed to be wearing the gloves,” he insisted.

"There are gloves?" Jaspar asked, exasperated as he stuck his finger into his mouth, trying to soothe the pain. It felt like it had gotten cut when Léon ripped the ball off him, but he didn't complain. At least it was off of his finger now, so there was that, even if Jaspar was a little worried to find out the state of his nail. Having his hand chewed on by a bingo ball was not how the wizard thought today was going to go, but at the same time, he welcomed the distraction. It helped the conversation shift off of him, and soon enough, the ladies were telling them all sorts of stories from their heyday. They had lots of adventures, and Jaspar believed at least a third of them, and by the end of Mrs. Boucher's description of dancing in a Parisian company, Jaspar was feeling light again. He was even smiling.

"G26," He said to them as he reached for the next bingo ball. He held his hand out, it jumped into it, and he immediately threw it onto the table. He was not going to let another one of them take a bite out of him. Maybe this was progress; he was at least protecting himself from what should have been inanimate objects. That was a start, right? After they had finished their stories and Jaspar had called the next number, he turned to Léon and spoke.

"What are you doing after Beauxbatons?"

“There are, real genius the one who invented them,” Léon nodded, pointing at the bright red gloves that were still sitting on the top of the shelf on the other side of the room. “Worked at a senior citizen’s home, his life’s goal was to make life easier for volunteers like you and me,” he added, though that was a blatant lie, it was a funny one, funny enough that it made Leon chuckle a little after he told it. “That’s the kind of science the world needs, Jaspar,” he added, though the boy figured those gloves had nothing to do with science and everything to do with some spellwork and a little good luck.

“My brother, he’s done some dancing too,” Léon offered as one of the women started to tell her story, intrigued by the journey she had taken but somewhat sad that she had ended up in a place like this. He understood the whole thing about the demands of taking care of a loved one but he, personally, could never put his mom in a place like this. Not that the woman would allow it, she was full of life and always wanted to do things on her own, it’s what he loved about her most.

He was a little lost in thought when Jaspar asked him about his future, but he came back to right away. Léon was used to thinking about things that bothered him and communicating as if nothing was wrong, it was a skill he had mastered over the year. “Uh—” he started, not sure where to start, “I’m thinking piano, maybe I’ll go to art school, I suppose but I haven’t given it much thought,” he began, “where do you go to study muggle science? Like a muggle school?”

Jaspar's eyes followed Léon's pointing, and when he saw the red gloves on the shelf, he visibly frowned. Sighing, Jaspar felt like these sorts of things were always happening to him. He should have been paying more attention, but he wasn't, and now he was paying the price for it. Not only was his finger probably bruised, but Léon was teasing him and his beloved science. It was not great. At least the old witches were still relatively nice to him. So there was that.

He tried to keep that in mind as they kept telling the two wizards about their glory days. When Jaspar managed to ask Léon about his plans, he couldn't keep the surprised look from his face at the answer. "You don't have a plan? But graduation is like... six months from now?" Jaspar had been applying for internships and educational programs since the beginning of the sixth year. The idea of leaving it up to chance or seeing which way the wind blew was just not something he was comfortable with. As disorganized as he might have been, Jaspar needed a plan. There was comfort in knowing what was going to come next.

"I'm returning to MASMA after Beauxbatons; they do educational training in tandem with paid internships." He supposed he could have gone to a muggle university. And there was a chance he still might, but he figured it was best to start at the wizarding equivalent first.

"Um," Ouch, the Papillonlisse considered, Jaspar really knew how to hit where it hurt and it was obvious from the way Léon took a moment or two to gather his thoughts. His expression changed, from the ever present arrogant smirk on his face to his brow furrowing in confusion to an irritated look. But as he was expected to take all things in stride, Léon eventually laughed, "Wow, you're really out to get me today, aren't you?" he asked, turning to the old ladies and pretending to pout, just to insight a little sympathy on their part.

One of the women took that as her cue to remind him that six months was plenty of time to make a decision. Léon highly doubted that but he was going to pretend it didn't even matter. Either way, the boy had bigger issues at hand, many of which he had no interest in discussing with this boy or any of the older ladies. "We can't all have our lives figured out, some of us need a little more inspiration than simple science, you know," he said pointedly. "Plus, last time I checked anyone can learn the subject but a true artist, now that takes special talent," he added. 

Whatever this MASMA thing was (Jaspar had explained but Léon usually didn't pay attention to things that did not explicitly pertain to him) sounded like a better plan than what the Quidditch captain had come up with but it also served as another point of contention. "Educational training sounds boring," he rolled his eyes at the boy, even as one of the older women chided in that it wasn't the case. But Léon didn't know why any of them were bothering to accomodate or make him feel any better, especially if it was obvious that the boy was bullying him. Well he was not but for Léon, who really did have no plan whatsoever, it was exactly what it felt like.

"Tell me this, are your parents boring too?" he asked, carefully reaching in to take another ball from the cage, "O9" he announced, winking at one of the other grandmas, a new one that had just joined the table and had found the number on her card with much excitement.

"Wait, no, what?" Jaspar's eyes darted from Léon to the ladies and back to his classmate, worried. Did Léon really think he was trying to make fun of him or start a fight? Jaspar hadn't considered that when he asked the question, but now that something had been saying, he was worried about it. Even when Léon began to say things like his science was less important or not as difficult as being an artist, Jaspar was still worried about having said something mean to the Papilonlisse. "I didn't mean anything by it," He said, shrugging a little but unable to make eye contact. Jaspar thought being an artist would be hard, he could never do it, but he didn't say that aloud either.

Instead, he slumped a little and pulled a chair over from the other table to sit. Another witch showed up to the group, and Jaspar slid her a bingo card silently as Léon rolled the cage again to pick the next number. "I don't think they are boring," Jaspar answered, his timidness making his words so low they were almost too quiet to hear. "My dad is a muggle Liason for the ministry; that is pretty cool, right?" Was it? Jaspar had always thought it was, but maybe he was wrong. Maybe his whole life was just boring.

"What do your parents do?" Jaspar asked, desperately hoping this would be a better conversation.

“Don’t worry about it man, I get the message loud and clear,” he added, having a hard time keeping the playful smirk off of his face as he continued on, wondering if he would manage to get a rise out of the frazzled boy if he kept at it long enough. His feelings were still hurt, Léon did not like the tone which the boy used to address him like there was something wrong with the fact that the boy was yet to choose a path.

It was not as if he had a large sum of money or an endless amount of time to rely on. If anything, the impending doom of his parent’s relationship made him feel like he had significantly less time than he had originally anticipated. “You think you’re better than me because you’re going to that fancy muggle school?” he added, making sure to frown just a little the way one might when they were either about to get angry or start crying. Léon had always been a good actor when the occasion called for it and looking at the expression on the boy’s face it was obvious that the occasion did call for it.

“Ooh,” Léon made a face as Jaspar explained what his parents did for a living before he burst out in laughter. Jaspar was starting to look a little too worried and the old ladies were giving him that look that practically told him he was being a complete jerk. He supposed he could cut the boy a little break. “Yeah that sounds alright, does he intervened when muggles stumble upon magic or something like that?” he tried, not really sure what that meant. “My mom is a dance instructor,” he explained, “my dad does something at the Ministry I guess, don’t really care,” he added dismissively, wanting to move on from the topic of his father as quickly as possible.

“You’ve got any siblings?” he tried, reaching into the cage again, this time getting bit by the bingo ball and almost yelping in pain. What the hell? “G67,” he said after a moment, shaking his hand as if that was supposed to make it all go away. “You remember my brother, right? Prosper,” he added. His older brother and favorite of the Lachapelle boys had a reputation that Léon often took refuge in. If people remembered his brother, their perspective of him seemingly changed, at least until the boy had time to disappoint them.