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Post by Theron Malfoy on Dec 27, 2006 23:14:29 GMT -5
Late-night Hogwarts wasn’t scary; late-night Hogwarts was simply interesting. Besides—what was the fun of attending a boarding school if one never bothered to explore it? Which was exactly what this Malfoy was doing; stealing out of the Slytherin Common Room and out around the school to explore it. True, he’d done it before, but it never lost its adrenaline rush or the thrill of sneaking past portraits in order to raid the kitchen and have the house elves answer to his every beck and call.
See, that was life all planned for him, with servants doing everything he asked for. If only life happened to be like that at the moment—for now it was just classes, getting good marks and impressing people, but to be truthful, he wanted to be famous. He wanted people swarming around him, girls screaming for his autograph—he wanted to be in the news all the time, to be known by practically everyone; to be someone.
His father was only famous in Hogwarts, and eventually that lost its charm. Sure, Theron was determined to leave a legacy, just like Draco had, but he wanted the whole world to know his name and to be awed by who he was as a person, not just because he was the son of Draco Malfoy. Yes, he could use that to his advantage when gaining publicity—but as a whole, that wasn’t (strictly) what he wanted; no, not at all.
A soft sigh escaped his mouth as he ambled along the many corridors of the school, stopping to cast nasty looks at the portraits and to see if there was any crime he could commit and get away with—because he usually got away with anything. A few moments later and Theron was standing outside the entrance to the kitchens, debating on entering or not—but he did, eventually, and then left the kitchens a few minutes later, pockets loaded with sweets.
Vaguely chewing on a doughnut, the Slytherin King started walking again, ignoring the mutterings of portraits. They were only paintings—after all, and he didn’t exactly care if he’d hexed a second year Gryffindor to grow huge teeth and boils all over his face, the kid had insulted him, but apparently the portraits disapproved of that. Ha, they were all Gryffindor-lovers, anyway. What he needed, Theron mused inwardly, was a second-in-command: a Slytherin to share his power with.
ooc. Reserved for Res. ;] [/size][/font] |
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Post by Sylvia Bay on Dec 27, 2006 23:41:26 GMT -5
Sylvia often found herself roaming the castle late at night. She never slept easily, no matter what she had done during the day, and sometimes it got so bad that she had to get up and walk around. Today she should've been tired, after walking to Hogsmeade, but for some reason she wasn't. She sighed as she made her way through the corrider which was burried under the ground, heading away from the Slytherin common room. She had thrown on a pair of jeans and a sweater over her pajamas, but had not bothered to put on her robes. She always felt like she was wearing a bag when she had them on, and she didn't see the point in them. She was barefoot, and the stone ground was cold against her skin- but also refreshing, in a way. The cold weather was slowly rolling in, and the fact that most of her spare time was spent underground didn't help much. But Sylvia didn't mind being cold terribly. She preferred shivering to sweating, because shivering didn't smell bad. She smiled slightly at the thought. She was silent as she made her way toward the staircase that would bring her up to the Entrance Hall. She was silent enough that she didn't disturb the paintings on the wall. Besides, they were used to her getting up in the middle of the night and going for little walks. She was sure there were always making bets as to where she would go, because they followed her around and on her way back she had seen them passing around painted money. She didn't mind, they could do whatever they wanted as long as they left her alone.
Sylv finally reached the stairs and started up them, her feet making muffled slapping sounds on the floor that almost had her laughing. She didn't really know why, it was probobably just when of those 'everything is funny at midnight' sort of things. When she reached the entrance hall the paintings were muttering. Wondering what had disturbed them, she glanced around. Listening closing, she thought maybe she could hear footsteps, although it was probably just her imagination. Her stomach growled, so Sylvia decided that tonight she would go down to the kitchen. She headed towards the little staircase that lead back down into the kitchen and paused. Was that a shadow? It looked like a person's shadow... No, she was probably imagining it. She headed down a little more cautiously than she had headed up the other staircase. When she reached the bottom and turned she found herself face to face with another Slytherin- a seventh year. He was a Malfoy. She could a step backwards, trying to get over the shock of meeting someone after so many late-night trips spent completely alone.
"Uh... Hi..." She said, somewhat shakily. She wondered what he was doing up so late, and knew he was probably thinking the same thing. She blinked at him, finally over her shock, and smiled a little. "What brings you here so late at night?" She asked, then saw the doughnut in his hand. "Oh, the kitchen?" She remembered why she was here and looked past him at the kitchen.
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Post by Theron Malfoy on Dec 28, 2006 16:48:02 GMT -5
‘Uh… hi…’ The voice startled Theron and he looked up sharply, eyes narrowing at the female in front of him. He would have reached into the pocket of his robes for his wand (truth be told, he never let his wand stray very far from him) but at that point, both pockets were overflowing with sweets that he’d technically stolen from the kitchen. Albeit, he didn’t really care about the sweets, but the fact that his wand was buried under them discomforted him a little.
‘What brings you here so late at night?’ Well, let’s take a guess, shall we? Hmm—he was right outside the kitchen—oh, he was here for the kitchen, well done for figuring that out! ‘Oh, the kitchen?’ Rolling his eyes at the girl, the Malfoy finished off the doughnut he’d been eating and narrowed his eyes at her once again. She was a girl in a lower year, which he could tell; he’d seen her around before… but where? Then it hit him; she was a member of his own house – a Slytherin.
She looked past him and he felt highly offended that she’d find the kitchen to be of more interest than his dashing good looks. Stepping in front of the pear portrait and folding his arms neatly across his chest, he eyed her with a blank gaze, debating on what to do. Here she was, a Slytherin—one of his own house—and she didn’t appear to have recognized him. Well, that was a bother; it was actually quite annoying; what was a boy to do about it?
“Do you know who you’re talking to?” he sneered, a nasty leer flickering onto his lips as he sized her up as a potential thread. He vaguely recalled her name… Sylvia something or other, and apparently she was well known for her insults. Well, bah to her—he wasn’t the Slytherin King for nothing, you know. [/font] |
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Post by Sylvia Bay on Dec 28, 2006 17:16:36 GMT -5
Sylvia saw him digging in his pockets, but not take anything out, and wondered if he had left his wand somewhere or something. Her wand was sticking out of the pocket of her jeans, and her hand strayed to it cautiously, fingering the smooth wood as though it comforted her. She smiled a little. It was obvious that he wasn't very impressed with her so far. Apparently someone wasn't in a good mood. Sylvia bit her lip hard to stop herself from giggling. She must have been a lot more tired than she had thought. Sylvia was surprised when the boy moved in front of the painting. Obviously he wasn't going to make this easy for her. She wondered what it was that he wanted. When he stepped in front of the painting he stepped into a pool of light cast by a little candle, and she could see his face clearly. He was a seventh year, in her house. The arrogant one who strutted around the castle all day and called himself the 'King of Slytherins' or something. He was cute. Sylvia raised an eyebrow at him.
"Nope, five years of watching you and your pals parade around the common room shouting about being the King of Slytherin and I still can't remember who you are. Think I should see a doctor?" THe response was sarcastic but not particularly cold. It was too late to be serious, or angry. At night Sylvia felt very little other than giddy, which had been shown by all the things that she found funny when they usually would have annoyed her. Sylvia resented the fact that he was still standing in her way though. She waited patiently, knowing that starting a fight here was a bad idea. If they woke up a teacher it'd be about a week's detention. That wasn't Sylvia ideal way to spend every day after school. And besides, her record was spotless. To have that wrecked because some guy wouldn't let her get into the kitchen? Yeah, right.
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Post by Theron Malfoy on Dec 28, 2006 17:54:34 GMT -5
‘Nope, five years of watching you and your pals parade around the common room shouting about being the King of Slytherin and I still can’t remember who you are. Think I should see a doctor?’ Snarky, snarky, he mused inwardly, a deadpan expression on his face. Sure—Evangeline had the ‘Ice Queen’ scowl, but really, he had all the good looks and the popularity.
A dead chuckle rose from his throat and he let his hand slide into the pocket of his robes again, feeling around for his wand. Ah, yes, there it was, and the Slytherin pulled it out to let her see it, folding his arms across his chest again and giving her a sneer. “Your comments do amuse me so. As you can see, I’m dying of laughter.” Sarcastic and dry, it wasn’t the best he could do but, you know; he wouldn’t waste his material on a boring girl.
She was interfering with his schedule, damn her. He was supposed to be up in the Tower and practising his hexes, but no, this stupid bitch had put a stop to that. Gah—and if she even tried one her infamous ‘insults’ on him just to look hard, he’d attack her. Theron was known for having a very low-tolerance policy and disrespect was a rather large pet peeve of his… amazingly large, in fact.
“Theron,” he added for his own good measure. “Theron Malfoy, son of Draco Malfoy, resident Slytherin King of Hogwarts. Who the bloody hell are you?” Granted, he didn’t know anything about her, but he was sure within the space of a night he’d know enough about her to satisfy his curiosity and his urge to know everything about everyone in his house. Yepp. [/font][/blockquote] |
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Post by Sylvia Bay on Dec 28, 2006 18:16:17 GMT -5
Sylvia was unphased at his indifference. She didn't expect much response from him. She was just hungry. It was funny, he was acting like she was in his way instead of the other way around. She wondered if she should respond in the same way she had before, but didn't really feel like it. She wanted to eat and sleep. She yawned widely, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth as is polite a second too late. He probably wouldn't approve. It might even make him mad enough to take out his wand and hex her. She was surprisingly unmoved. She didn't even start reviewing her list of counter spells and hexes she could use on him like she usually would have. She simply stared at him as if trying to see through him and find the picture of the pear, or just wishing him away. He seemed to be bored of her, so she would be bored of him. And then he started talking again, not necessarily to her dismay. It was to her dismay however, that he still hadn't moved. She sighed, wondering if she answered his questions he would go away.
"Sylvia Bay, daughter of some low-life living in a run down apartment, trying to get into the kitchen to eat." She added a little small at the end and then went back to staring at his chest, right wear the pear would have been if he wasn't in the way. She hoped he wouldn't he wouldn't hex her, after she thought about it for a moment. Last time she had been hexed she had been in the hospital wing for about an hour as Madam Pomfrey tried to figure out exactly what had happened. She had messed up the counter curse which had made the hex about two times worse, so she was so messed up she couldn't even speak. Now she had made sure she now all of her spells and counter spells by heart, but she was still hesitant to take that risk.
If only the painting to the kitchen had been password operated. Then the door would have swung open and knocked Theron down. Sure, he'd be mad, but she'd have food and places to hide behind when he sent spells flying at her. Sylvia was now halfway off in her in little world and halfway in the real world waiting for the seventh year to move the result was a smile on her face as she stared absently, so now it looked like she could see through the Malfoy, and there was something funny going on on the other side of him.
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