sharper than a fang && with twice the bite.

“That’s just one person,” Cissa said dismissively. One student didn’t negate the truth of her statement: as a whole, she was fairly certain that any Ravenclaw hearing someone claim they had studied too much would go absolutely crazy. She still didn’t know if she quite liked his attitude about this whole affair, but it was to be expected, coming from Lucius. Besides, Cissa was smart. She wasn’t going to turn away help from a competent person just because he was annoying. “If it’s going to be helpful for you as well …” She watched him for a moment, lips pursed before she nodded. “I would appreciate some help, if it’s not taking away from your own studies.” Cissa had worked hard to maintain her reputation, and she didn’t want anyone thinking she was trying to do well in school, but she was. She had expectation for her marks.

It made her a little easier to think he wouldn’t be buying her more presents. Not now, anyway. Someday she knew she’d have to be used to the idea, and she’d likely be glad he was spending his money on her. She probably should have accepted gracefully, but it was too late now. Her expression brightened and she nodded eagerly. “My sisters are the best. And Regulus, of course. Family is the most important thing to me and I would do anything for any of them.”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” he said, smiling, then thinking of when exactly he would be able to fit her in between all his studying. He, of course, did have to do more studying than he let on, but he was raised to be of help to others who were worthy of and needed it. He pondered over his schedule before deciding, “alright then, shall we meet tomorrow afternoon? Right before dinner?”

“I do have my own, I just didn’t have an extra one. So, no need to keep it longer than necessary.” Regulus remained smiling, going back to his book, wondering what he was even reading. Of course Lucius would already think he’d get top marks. It was infuriating how casual and flippant he was taking these end of year exams. He’d normally find it inspiring, but not today.

He wasn’t sure why, but something triggered in Regulus when Lucius mentioned Narcissa. He nearly snapped the quill in two, his eyes narrowing as they grew dark, almost black. It took a minute, but the rage slowly built up, Regulus no longer caring what else Lucius had said. “What makes you so sure you’ll have a life together? There may be talks of negotiations containing you and her, but I can assure you, there is nothing set in stone. Narcissa would never marry you, and if there was ever a chance she even remotely thought about entertaining the idea, it would be over my dead body!”

Regulus was fuming, not sure where all this anger and hostility was coming from. It was both very stupid and very confusing, but he’d already dug his grave with it. Not to mention, he really had no idea what his uncle and Lucius’ father had discussed, but had assumed his father would have told him of any matches made. He swallowed hard at the pointed look and throat clearing of the librarian, Regulus now realizing he had stood and had probably raised his voice higher than was appropriate, especially in a library. “I uh, just realized I had somewhere to be.” Quickly gathering his things that were scattered around the table, he refused to look at Lucius, both still upset and becoming increasingly more embarrassed. He was wildly protective of all his cousins, even Bella and Andie who really didn’t need it, but he was always overly so about Cissa. But never to this extent.

It had to be the stress of his looming O.W.L.s because nothing else really made sense. It couldn’t possibly be because–No. No, no, no; he wouldn’t even let his mind go there. He loved Cissa, but she was his cousin, and that was it. End of story. He knew she’d be married off one day, just as he would be in his coming years. It was just the way of things, no matter if feelings were involved or not.

Having everything thrown back into his bag in a matter of seconds, Regulus now paused, the quill having been left on the desk. Lucius had said to keep it, but after all that, he couldn’t. Regulus wouldn’t offer an apology, or explanation, but he’d leave the quill, hoping he could repair this friendship one day. “Good luck on your N.E.W.T.s, Lucius. Thanks again for the use of your quill.” He looked up briefly then turned, walking off to try and figure out just what the bloody hell had happened.

Lucius could tell that there was something bothering Regulus the second he saw the look he was being given. The voice that came to follow was just all the more proof, as it drew attention from others around the library, in particular that of the librarian, and the look from the end of that long nose piercing through those small reading lenses. It seemed to have been triggered by his mention of Narcissa, the reaction of which intrigues Lucius. 

Finally aware of what could make Regulus snap, Lucius smirked. He made a mental note to use that whenever need be, or whenever it would just amuse him greatly, much like it was at that very moment. His book shut, and he leaned forward, clasping both hands on the table as he looked up to the now-standing Regulus, brows raised. “It’s what’s expected of me and of her. In my family, we do what is expected of us, and beyond,” he responded, in a quiet, relaxed tone. “I had assumed it was the same for the Blacks.”

Regulus’ realization of what he had done and the embarrassment he undoubtedly felt of it was only all the more amusing to Lucius, leaving him to give something of a chuckle as he watched the other grab all his things, scurrying to get away from the moment.

It was foolish for Regulus to raise his voice at the upperclassman, almost as foolish as it was to believe that he could stand in the way of the future his cousin had. The way Lucius saw it, she was going to be like any other pureblood woman that had been married into the Malfoy name –– it would be what was best for her future, and best for their two families, sacredly pure families that would be kept that way. There was little anyone could do about it, it was just the way things were done; Lucius knew that better than anyone.

As the other paused, Lucius raised a brow, looking to the quill that had been left, then back up to the boy who had ‘forgotten’ to pack it. Regulus bid his farewell, and Lucius returned it graciously, saying, “my thanks, good luck to you as well. Don’t be a stranger.” Once he walked off, Lucius returned to his grimoire, trying to remember where he had truly left off.. hmm, let’s see. Act three, scene one, page... three, was it? That was correct. He turned to the page and began reading, once again. ‘Foolery, sir, does walk about the orb like the sun; it shines everywhere.’ 

Cissa wasn’t sure if she should be impressed or annoyed at his claim. “You’d best not let any of the Ravenclaws hear you say something like that,” she said after a moment. Confidence was good, of course, but she rather doubted anyone was doing so well in their courses that they could study too much for NEWTs. But it was only his loss, and if the offer was genuine, then it might be best if she accepted. “How are you in Transfiguration?” She asked at last. “I’m having a little trouble with Vanishing Spells.” Reggie would help, no doubt, but it would be smart to have help from someone with a little more experience. Her gaze followed his hand as he adjusted his hair, but returned to meet his as he spoke once more. “You hardly have a reason to buy me more candy.” Her tone was a little cautious, as she didn’t want to upset any negotiations her father had settled - not that she knew about any of it, despite the fact that it was her future they were discussing. “I don’t usually have people who buy me things, unless they’re related to me. Regulus spoils me dreadfully, but so do Andie and Bella.”

“You think Ravenclaws study more than I do? Just the other night on prefect duty I caught one of them drinking cheap mead alone in one of the alcoves. We all have enough free time to do what we wish. It’s just that what I wish to do is a little more responsible.” Of course, he had spent nearly all his time studying, and if he were to take break from it he thought the best way to do so was to at least get himself involved in more studying. “Besides, will helping you not allow me to review some OWL material that I may have let go of? The NEWTs are cumulative, it would help me just as much. But, I may not have much time on my hands anyways, so if you don’t need my help…” He smirked, leaning forward to sit up as he said, “I’m doing quite well in transfiguration. I could certainly help with vanishing spells, if that’s all you need help with, it won’t take much of my time at all.”

Fucking great. Fucking fantastic. She shot a glare up to the ceiling above, silently cursing whatever gods were listening. She couldn’t have one single break? “I’m hardly getting up to nonsense, I’m quite happy sitting here alone, not causing trouble.” she retorted, pulling a face as he took a seat across from her and then one of anger when he pulled the bottle from her grasp and proceeded to help himself. She watched with her eyes narrowed as he placed the bottle between them, before letting out a deep sigh of exasperation. “Well not all of us can afford fancy wine and spirits. It’s cheap and cheerful and does the fucking job. And I don’t need a babysitter. We’re the same fucking age you bellend.” she added, scathingly. 

He scoffed. “I couldn’t imagine being so miserable that I needed to sit alone in a cold, filthy castle like this drinking such ‘cheap and cheerful’ shite just to feel better.” He did not like this any more than she did, but he felt a need to stick to his duty. Although he would never admit it, though, he did find some sick pleasure in bringing her more misery. She might even become so miserable that she’d toss back the whole bottle and get so drunk, he could get her to stumble right into Filch and find herself in at least a week’s detention. “Same age, are we? That makes it even more sad that you’re drinking away your sorrows like a fat child eats theirs away, while I’m being responsible and doing my job. You know, I have half a mind to kick down the bottle right now, to watch it break as it rolled down towards the glass window, shattering just loud enough that Filch will be on his way to punish you.”

“There’s a difference between getting tipsy and kissing a young, pretty barmaid and getting tipsy and kissing a barmaid who’s clearly extremely past the ‘twenty eight’ mark she claimed. It was awful, Lucius.” she replied, cackling with laughter at the reminder of it. “But it’s true, it’s hardly hot news- but if I were to spin it in the direction of Lucius Malfoy having a thing for the older woman, well who knows what outcome that could bring.” she added, eyes glinting with amusement. 

She removed her wand from her pocket, lazily waving it and muttering a quiet charm. After a few seconds, a bottle and two glasses came to a halt on the table in front of them. She waved her wand once more, the cork popping out before landing quietly and neatly beside it. It needed to breathe so she left it, turning her attentions back to him. 

“My parents aren’t big on failure, they’ve both done very well for themselves, although I still swear to this moment they used magic to get into the positions they are currently in. It’s not often you find black people in such high positions of power. But it’s something they’ve pressed into myself and my sister- and she’s already the apple of their eye so I guess I don’t like having to report on mine or my houses failure. My sister, she played Quidditch whilst here and she was always winning, surely you remember her? Graduated when we were in our second year. Fucking Gryffindor. So of course, my mother adored her, always bringing home trophies and medals. So to part of a house who is so abysmally bad at it, just makes me hate having to report about it. You’re lucky your father only cares about what you do-” she stopped herself, realising she had started on a topic which was indeed a sore spot. A sore, weak spot she had no intention of letting others use. Instead she busied herself pouring out the wine into two glasses, quickly passing one over to Lucius. She noted his actions, realising she wouldn’t get much else out of him, even if she was still a bit curious. But there were boundaries. Boundaries they all knew not to cross at times.

So she made herself comfortable once more, taking a small sip of her wine. She was glad he pressed her more about her future, it took off the edge of family and she simply shrugged. “I suppose I’ve just always considered that no matter what job you want to do in life, there’s always something better waiting. I want to be able to reach for my highest and if I keep testing my limits and abilities, I could end up in something better than just the Ghost-” her eyes narrowed a little, feeling a little annoyed at how he lumped her into his category of pity. “I’m hardly scrambling- I have at least six offers on the table, I can take whatever I want. I guess you can say that, not having to worry about working, but you seem to forget I could also take up a life of luxury- I just so happen to believe that success comes from gaining it yourself. Having someone respect you for you, not just for family money. So thank you for the offer, but no thank you. I work for my own achievements. I will never accept help from a man.” she said, fiercely, taking another sip of her wine. 

It wasn’t unknown that Rita was fiercely independent and actively showed her support for women to be more than just a housewife or subservient. Being one of color and female, she saw how they were treated and she was determined in everything to show those who deemed her little or stupid that they were in fact wrong. 

She took a deep breath though, not meaning to get so worked up and she gave him an apologetic wry smile. “Sorry, I got a little heated there. Apparently I have a few deep seated issues.” she said, rolling her eyes a little, before taking another deep breath. 

At the question of family she let out a snort of derision. “I’m far too young to be thinking about that sort of thing. I couldn’t really consider myself a mother-” although she never wanted to admit that she had pictured herself with a child, the thought of having a little girl, to be in a happy house with a husband, to be working and to be a mother. But she wasn’t one to want to cave to her maternal instincts. She was designed for something better. And although she was with Peter, well sort of, she knew that someone like him would be a great father. She shook her head a little. “- I’m far too interested in work. I have money set aside, my own trust fund, I would use to find myself somewhere depending on where I settle jobwise. What about you though? I mean you and Narcissa…..I might not be welcomed into the inner sanctum but I do know what’s expected of young pureblood couples. You have two years to get everything sorted for when she graduates….”

He retorted with something of a chuckle before joking with a, “I meet women that old at my father’s functions all the time, maybe I’ve grown to enjoy the company of more mature women. Please, do write an article on it, perhaps it would pique the interest of a certain Transfiguration Professor. I’ve had my eye on that old tart for years.” His laughter continued, before shaking his head then sighing, at ease that he could let himself be amused for at least a moment during this troubling time for him.

Blue-grey eyes watched the drink glasses appear before them, a small something to look at as the lull in the conversation passed through. He was eager to take a drink, but it seemed he would have to wait as he listened to her speak of her family. It was best, he decided, not to enter the discussion about her parents much, and he was sure that she already knew his thoughts on her parents, or at least could predict them. A pureblood to marry a halfblood, well, that wasn’t too terrible to him. While it was simply unheard of in his world, it wasn’t as though it was the worst sin a pureblood could make through marriage. There was the matter of their success, yes, but to have such success among muggles? That was nothing, any weak witch or wizard could do that; anyone could rise above the inferiority that was mugglekind. He had tapped his fingers against the glass that was closest to him, containing his thoughts on what she had to say. That is, until there came mention of his father.

“Perhaps, but my father has no reason to be disappointed in me,” he fibbed quickly, looking away from her and to the deep burgundy of the wine that she poured between the two glasses. Quick to take a sip from his, he took his time to seemingly examine the notes of the wine, each little inkling of different flavors –– in reality, he could not tell one red wine from any other, something that would surely disappoint his mother if she knew, and he was instead pondering, wondering what she would speak of next. Hopefully, she would not ask more of his relationship with his father, to which he would have to end the conversation and tell her it was, frankly, none of her business. It would be a shame, though, as they were getting along so well.

But it seemed that the ‘getting along’ had soured anyways.

“Oh, Rita, I do apologize if you misread my offer as any doubt that you could not find your way yourself. It was simply an outreach of good will. I am certain you have nothing in your way to get to where you want to be, I’ve just been raised to offer help to those I see having a successful future, whether or not they need it.” Another sip of wine, quicker this time, before he continues, “indeed, many people are very proud of working, and the achievements they have made in doing so. Do not think for one second that I find any lesser in those like you who chose to work over a life of luxury –– I see its many advantages. I might take that path as well, even if I do not need to. After all, living my life out in the manor could get boring and tedious.”

Upon her apology, he nodded, trying to give a smile with at least one corner of his mouth. “No, you have nothing to apologize for. Having your own plan for your future is important, I wouldn’t let anyone get in the way of that if I were you.” He swirled his glass, watching the legs of the wine as they slowly crept back down the glass. “I, too, should have another plan. Perhaps I could be involved in the Ministry, or anywhere else I could ensure that the world, the one my children will grow up in, will be a proper place for their upbringing,” he commented. It would be best to be sure that the world was less of a travesty that it has been becoming over the past few years, particularly in the school he had been in, he thought. “I’d like my child to avoid the filth that I’ve had to wade through these past few years.”

It was clear his mind was set on his future of having a family. She was right, it was what was expected of pureblood families, of their children, of people like him and Narcissa. Lucius had a hard time imagining what she described, being so oriented on a future that involved work, her future occupation. He knew well that his primary occupation was to be a proper pureblood heir, to uphold his family name, and perhaps even to strengthen it. Hers was not. The two certainly came from much different worlds, with much different expectations.

“Of course, of course, there is no shame in not being family-oriented.” Taking another sip, he raised a brow at what she had to say regarding his future with Narcissa, as well as the expectations placed upon them. Being reminded yet again of the lack of freedom he had with his future was not a pleasant experience for him, but he had adapted to these reminders at this point. 

Though she claimed to know what was expected of him, little did she know how correct she was in his need to get things ‘sorted out’ in the next two years before Narcissa graduated. He had to sort out family plans, had to establish himself further as a worthy heir, and had to make great decisions on what his future would hold –– whether or not he would pursue what was expected of him, what his father wished for him to do, find himself in the servitude he could very well be placed in, or if he would have to abandon all his life had built him up to if he said no. 

Not wanting these thoughts to roam around his head for much longer he took a gulp from his wine then took a breath. “Yes, the next two years will certainly be... important, to say the least, in establishing my future. Especially that with Narcissa.” His head leaned in his hand as his elbow rested on the table, eyes meeting hers and remaining in contact. “I would be lying if I said it was not stressful, but it certainly won’t be a problem. That is what my whole life has led up to: to marry a pureblood woman, to have a child, and to live up to my inheritance. I’m sure this is taking its toll on Narcissa, as well, but she is lucky that she has the next two years to enjoy her freedom before becoming a part of my family. I guess I’m lucky that she has that time as well.”

“I’m sure my father would have been much the same.” Her smile grew a little tighter; Cissa didn’t like talking about her parents - she liked it even less now. And there was no doubt that learning something like chess from Cygnus Black would have been a most unpleasant turn of events. “I appreciate that thought.” Thinking about doing something with him in the future was … odd. Not bad. Not good. Just odd. Perhaps because she spent so much time not thinking about the future. That would have to change, and sometime relatively soon, but she wasn’t ready to think about the future yet, not when she had so much on her mind already. “You have NEWTs though,” she said doubtfully at his offer to help her study. “I can’t take away from your studying time. Regulus helps me anyway.” She didn’t think he’d be overly pleased if she went about letting Lucius help her - although he did have more experience than either of them, so he might offer some insight. She turned to face him again, once more surprised by the turn the conversation had taken. “You’d buy me more candy?”

He shook his head, smiling before saying, “I’m not worried about the N.E.W.T.s. I’m already doing outstanding in the courses, and I spend far too much time studying for them as is. There is no time taken from me if you were to want a bit more help from someone who has actually taken the exams.” As she made a turn towards him he was inclined to do the same, twisting at his waist and placing his elbow on the back of the bench, his head beginning to lean into his hand. Before it could, a piece or two of hair with length reaching to his nose fell, which he had to comb back with his fingers before the hand could return to where his jaw leaned into it. “Why wouldn’t I buy you more candy?” he questioned, grinning as he added, “it’s just that –– sweets. I buy plenty of things in Hogsmeade already, what could some more treats from Honeyduke’s hurt?”

“Well then,” Regulus’ strained smile returned, and he was ready to throw the damn quill right back, but gripped it tighter instead. “Then no ‘I owe you’ and I’ll just offer my thanks for it. Unless you want it back when I’m done here?” Yeah, right back in your eye. Regulus knew he was probably being unreasonable, but he no longer cared. Malfoy wasn’t any better than him, even with his stupid fancy old book and super expensive quills. The tiny dots that dropped were rather annoying, and Regulus knew he’d get an earful from a particular blond about it, but for now, it appeared to be affecting his companion, so he would suck it up and worry about that later. “Oh, an excellent memory? I bet that’s quite handy, especially for exams. Gonna ace your N.E.W.T.s no doubt.” Most of the ink had dripped out now, and Regulus redipped, a fresh blot of ink finding a new spot in his book. This git really was full of himself, and he had a journal? Regulus had to keep from laughing, maintaining as straight a face as he could. “Oh, you keep a journal? Isn’t that something. I think Narcissa stopped writing in one our second year.” He grinned and nodded, letting Lucius be proud of himself for that, before he scratched a few lines in his book, not even sure what he was writing. “And what if you need to go back and review one day? Oh, but your excellent memory. Suppose you’ll have no need to go back. Lucky you.” He grinned again, doing his best to look envious of how magnanimous Lucius was.

Lucius shook his head, a guise of politeness covering his face as his lips curled upwards. “Oh, no, keep it. I’d hate for you to need to borrow another quill off someone else, it’s easier for everyone if you just take it with you.” He wasn’t too keen on getting the quill back, thinking that if the boy treated his quills at all similar to the way he treated books, Regulus would return the quill with an un-rinsed or dull nib, possibly even bent or un-blotted. The effort to restore it to a useable quality would be far too much, making it more worth his time to just toss it if it were given back in such a state. What a waste of a fine quill. The blond did not like to waste much of anything, in particular, his mind and his time. Both of which were seeming to be involved in a conversation unworthy of them. “I’ve ‘aced’ all the classes so far and I test well, so, yes. Consider them already ‘aced’, Regulus.”

It seemed like he didn’t plan on leaving, and Cissa wasn’t entirely sure how she felt about that. It was nice that he put forth some effort but she wasn’t sure that she was happy about it either. No matter what sort of arrangement there was regarding her future, she wasn’t going to like it or be happy about it. She laughed quietly, looking at him again. “Can you really picture my father sitting down to teach me how to play chess? He had better things to do, and Mother had other lessons she wanted me to learn. But I’m sure learning from you would be an enjoyable experience.” Her brows went up as he reached toward her, but when it became apparent that he was only opening the lid, she relaxed. And then her expression brightened. Cissa loved sweets, and one quick way to earn her favor was to gift her some. “Oh, thank you! This is lovely. She reached for a licorice wand and bit into it. “I’ll try not to but it’s very difficult, you know. Especially with OWLs.”

Out came something of a chuckle with his breath, and he shook his head. “You’re right, most men of our status are to preoccupied to teach their girls much. Consider yourself lucky –– Abraxas has no patience with that sort of thing, and learning anything from him was hell. Just so you know, I plan to be very patient with you when that time comes,” he assured her. Whenever that was he would not know; although the two had certainly been pressured to marry in roughly two years, who knew what the future held? He enjoyed the aspect of unpredictability that was so essential to the idea of the future, as, especially in times like this, it was his only hope for some sort of freedom in his life. Watching a smile appear on the face of a figure in his uncontrollable future, he was glad that he could do something to win some of her favor. It would make everything all the easier. “Oh, yes, I remember those exams. I’m always around if you need some extra tutoring. I know how stressful this time of year can be. And please, do let me know if you do end up eating all this too quickly, so I can go buy you more.”

She didn’t flinch or jump but his presence was startling. Narcissa didn’t go out of her way to find Lucius and talk to him, although she was always polite when their paths crossed. They had a future, and she didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that future. “Thank you. Of course you can.” She straightened up and made sure there was space for him, smoothing her skirt over her knees. She reached for the package as he held it out, moving without really thinking of it. She really hadn’t expected a birthday present from him, given their lack of a real relationship. “Thank you,” she said again. Her eyes shifted to him briefly before she began opening the gift. A chess set. She didn’t play chess, but the thought was what counted, right? “This is lovely. I’m afraid I don’t know how to play, however.”

“You’re quite welcome,” he responded, making himself comfortable in the seat beside her. He carefully watched as she opened it, after the brief eye contact beforehand, and watched slender fingers uncover the chess set –– a rather nice, ornate, expensive one at that. A corner of his lip turned upwards as he gave a nod, saying, “ah, I thought most people of noble birth knew. No matter, I’ll sit down with you to teach you sometime.” Thankfully, that was not the only gift he got her. A hand reached over towards her lap, lowering briefly so fingertips could pry at the lid and lift the top of the chess set, revealing a stash of all sorts of candies –– bertie bott’s, acid pops, toffees, licorice wands, the whole lot. “Be sure not to eat it all in one sitting.”

“You would think that my mother might have planned a little better so my birthday didn’t fall right before exams start. I can’t even enjoy my presents.” Huffing, Cissa dropped onto a bench, waving the girls who were with her on ahead. “I’ll catch up, go on.” It wasn’t strictly true, because she had no intentions of catching up with any of them until much later. She had been saving a sugar quill for just this very occasion and now was as good a time as any to enjoy it.

He approached the blonde on the bench, package held at his side as he said, “Narcissa, happy belated birthday. May I sit?” It wasn’t as though he would chase her down to get her alone at any point on her birthday, or even the days surrounding it. Perhaps that’s why it took him nearly a week to actually decide to find her and give her the presents he had bought. He did not care too much for Narcissa, no more than he did any other members of her family, but he certainly had felt it inappropriate to not get her a gift; they were family friends, they were school friends, and they were betrothed –– she was going to be part of his family, and he would have to get used to giving her gifts anyways. “I got you something,” Lucius told her, exposing the pakage before her then handing it her way, “feel free to open it.”

And just when Regulus was starting to warm to the idea of liking this bloke, he says something obnoxious like that. It took all his will power not to snort and roll his eyes at the ‘don’t bother’, instead pulling a smile with a curt nod. Malfoy did know Blacks were also made of money, didn’t he? They just didn’t prance around about it like some did. “Well, even still. Maybe I’ll just owe you somehow, one day, yeah?” Regulus opened his ink well and dipped then held it over the page a moment as the ink “accidentally” left a few dots on the page. “You write it all down? Memory that rubbish or you just have a daft studying habit? That must be a lot of lose parchment. Stacks, after awhile?”

“Maybe you will. Not that there’s much that you can do for me, even if it’s something so small that it can repay a quill.” Eyes wandered from the little words on the pages of his book just long enough to watch the round inklings form on the paper as they fell from the quill, expanding very little yet very quickly once they hit the page. Now if Regulus wished to write in the book, that was his study method, his prerogative, but carelessly staining it? Lucius rolled his eyes, coming to the conclusion that some people, no matter how wealthy their families may be, never learned the right appreciation for nice things like books. 

Wandering the halls, Augustus was in his own little world as his fingers traced over the stone walls, following the path he took through the castle. “I’m sure gonna miss this place,” he muttered to himself. The sound of something, likely someone, behind him, though, brought him from his reverie. “Alright, there?”

Although he had stopped at the signs of another there –– the murmurings, the paces against the stone floor –– he resumed once more as his presence was found out, passing through the junctions of the corridors to approach the other. “I apologize, I was startled to hear that another was wandering this part of the castle at this time of day. It seems to be mostly empty; I do hope you’re not alarmed that it seemed I was following you. I was merely curious.” He, too, ran his fingertips against the stone walls, fingering over each little line. “Sometimes I, too, am convinced I will miss it here, I must admit,” Lucius said gently, eyes following the path his fingers made against the stone engravings.

Regulus snorted, almost offended. “That’s not saying much, as he’s a constant disappointment. I am better in every way.” He raised his chin, the mention of his brother still not a topic he preferred to dwell on. “Thanks. I’ll pay you back.” Regulus picked up the quill, good quality, not that he doubted it would be, and cracked open his books. He hadn’t actually planned on studying when he sat down, but he might as well now. “Well, I don’t completely ruin the page, but I find it helps to take notes in the text, so when you go back later to reread it, you’ve already gotten what you need, instead of having to find your parchment. It’s convenient.”

“Pay me back?” Lucius scoffed, shaking his head and lifting a hand gently, perpendicular to the table as to motion ‘stop’. “No need, I assure you I don’t need the money. Besides, paying me back for a quill that fine would likely be a little above the budget most would spend on a simple writing instrument.” Just the thought of writing inside a book, and especially the one he held in his hands, made him cringe. The books he was used to may have been old, therefore not in the best shape, but at least the pages were pristine. “I can understand that. For me, things are easier to remember if I write it all down on a separate parchment, and I can always find plenty.”

“Shakespeare?” Regulus tried the name out, lifting his brow. “He certainly sounds like a wizard. Can’t say I’ve ever heard of him though. Must not be very famous. And to live amongst muggles. Not that I’m one to judge on that, exactly.” He gave a half shrug, almost forgetting he was predisposed to dislike Malfoy on principle of possible future arrangements. He may be the youngest Black, but he wanted to protect his cousins no matter what. “Oh, yeah. Classes are good. Top marks, all that.” Regulus waved a dismissive hand, as if everyone was well liked by their professors. “Potions and Herbology. I don’t think Slughorn minds too much, seeing as how Severus is always writing in his book. But it seems I won’t be doing much of that without a quill, so yes, if you wouldn’t mind terribly?”

“Congratulations. It seems that you make up for the older Black brother’s... well, shortcomings, then.” He reached forwards beyond his book to a quill and a pot of ink besides it, gently taking the quill and resting it at Regulus’s side, then sliding the ink pot over as well. “I’m certain Slughorn wouldn’t mind, it’s more of a me thing. I hate seeing people write in their books, and I hate opening up a book to see writing in it.” Another page was flipped in his book. “However, feel free to do so if you were already planning on it. I am not one to tell you how to and how not to do your studying.”

Bellatrix has taken a lazy glance around at Lucius’ concern. He liked to keep his hands free of their troubles, Bella just assumed this was another instance. The gravity of the situation to Bella had seemed minor at best. She was relaxed and perhaps just the tiniest bit annoyed at the stupidity.  And then her heart pumped her cold blood frozen. Her eyes steeled towards Lucius, ever present and aware. Her arms uncrossed and her immediate thought was to reach out and touch Lucius. However, the severity of the conversation kept her poised. In these situations, her mother’s teachings kicked in. Her posture straighten, she pushed all her hair out of her face, and a careful, unreadable mask slipped into place.

There was no part of Bellatrix that felt conflicted about keeping a secret from her sister. She was a master of secrets, knowing many, telling no one—she wasn’t Rita after all. Protecting her family meant keeping secrets, she knew that. She had to depend on herself at all times, even if that meant lying. Bellatrix took a careful step toward him, lowering her own voice.

“Of course I know about the Death Eaters,” her eyes skittered about the dungeon hall. No one was nearby. “Only fools wouldn’t be,” she hissed. The cause he sought wasn’t not only one embedded in her by her parents, but one she’d understood at her core. She knew the mudbloods and muggles. Disgusting and vile. She agreed with her parents completely, and believe in the cause.

Bellatrix allowed herself to be steered by Lucius. Her mind was turning ideas and possibilities over and over again. A time or two she wondered if she’d stopped listening to Lucius altogether consumed by her own inner voice. Her eyes jumped to life, glittering with energy. “You would be a Death Eater?” she interrupted, looking to meet his eye. Bellatrix herself had wanted to be part of the Dark Lord’s inner sanctum. But what she’d tell no soul—she was too scared. She knew that threats of death would be followed through if she joined, no restrictions, no law. It was a new world. One she both yearned for and feared. “Have you seen him?” she asked with the wonderment of a child. The man felt like a legend to Bellatrix, more myth than fact. But she believed. Bellatrix took in the information given to her. As excited as she felt (the electricity sparking the hackneyed muscles), but when she thought of the consequences for Lucius her bones brittled. “Are you going to do it?” she asked, sounding almost sheepish in her concern.

As she and her perfect posture loomed over him, he became aware of himself and his momentary lack of poise. He, too, stood up straight, feeling each bone of his back stack up upon one another so effortlessly, and ensured that the bangs of his freshly cut hair were not hanging over his face with a hand reaching up, each finger combing backwards along his scalp to place the blond locks that ran between them.

“I was only curious what you knew of them, but it seems you know enough,” he retorted ever so pointedly, his voice climbing slightly above the volume he had previously been disposed to. Lucius could tell that she had gone a bit elsewhere in her mind, and he waited for her to get back on the topic. Eyes remained on her, but ears still remained alert, listening cautiously for any footsteps or any whispers throughout the halls. Then, he continued, until his own voice had been interrupted by hers.

At the meeting of their eyes, he knew she had been thinking deeply, but whether it was about his predicament or some thoughts of her own about herself Lucius wouldn’t know. “Well, yes, I would be one of... one of his servants,” he started, avoiding further use of the words Death Eater, “that is what my father wishes of me.”

Her next question seemed to be asked so dreamily, as she was clearly caught up in her own thoughts, her own ideas about the Dark Lord and what he has done and will do. Lucius scoffed, stating, “bloody hell, I speak his name once or twice and that’s what you focus on? Stop swooning over the man, for Merlin’s sake, and listen to me for a second.” With a sigh, he went on to say, “no, I haven’t personally met him, I don’t think. However, I am certain he’s been in the manor once or twice, in my father’s study. I believe I’ve overheard my father speaking to him on many occasions, and I may have caught a glimpse or two at him as he left. Is that enough for your fantasizing of him, or do you want me to describe his voice so you can pretend to speak to him in bed tonight?”

It took him a few seconds to think about how to answer this next question, and he finally decided on telling her how the arrangement went down from the start. “Father was waiting on my answer, so, the other night I wrote him to give him one. I told him that if I were to do what he wishes and serve the Dark Lord, it would not be now. I told him I’d want to wait, and that after graduation I would do what I could to help.” Thinking of the letter made him anxious, wishing to play with his hear, or go back to tearing at the little parchment in his pocket, or fiddle with a ring. Instead, he took a breath, then added, “but I still did not agree to become a Death Eater then. I asked to wait until your sister, Narcissa, was out of school as well. I wouldn’t want myself in a position that would cause her stress or worry when she should be focusing on her schoolwork. Nor do I want any word of my affiliation with the Dark Lord to cause harm to here here. It’s a safe place for her, and I want it to remain as such.”

“I decided to push my final decision until then, but my father wrote another letter back. He said it was then when I would have to serve the Dark Lord, and that I had no choice. So, yes, I would have to become... a Death Eater, as soon as Narcissa graduates.” He couldn’t help but feel overcome with a feeling of regret, the same feeling as when he read his father’s letter; he was informed that the choice was no longer his, and it filled him with anxiety, remorse, and a whirlwind of other terrible feelings. “I plan to speak to him about it after term ends, to change his mind, and to let me be able to make the choice then. I need him to agree to let me make the decision, so as to not be forced into it when that time comes. I wish to choose for myself.”

When he felt his lower lip start to quiver he looked away from her, hiding the face that could show signs of those nasty feelings he was drowning in. To let anyone, especially someone like her, someone he thought to be so strong and sure of herself and her intentions, see any from of weakness from him would have been unbearably shameful. It was already bad enough to tell her of his uncertainties, something he had started to wish he hadn’t done. He attempted to gather himself, to put on a mask of stone-cold rigidity like she did so well, biting his quivering lip and recollecting himself before he could turn to face her.

She had worked hard in the past, to avoid doing any prefect duties with Lucius Malfoy. She had her own issues with the house, many enemies and she decided long ago to avoid Lucius at any cost. Not that she was afraid of him, she was afraid of no one. The years had built her up tough. She just didn’t want to ever be in the position of being alone with one of Slytherin’s self crowned kings of supremacy. “It’s Glenda Chittock. Not that it matters if you know my name or not- that would mean I’d have to care about having your opinion of me. Which I don’t, by the way.” she replied, intentionally taking a swig of her bottle in front of him. They were at an impasse. Both being prefects they couldn’t do anything to each other. Nothing legal and within the school rules anyway. “My silly little moves have put plenty of your cronies into the hospital wing. You’d have to actually hit me first. Plenty have tried using their wands, only for me to punch their lights out. If you want to go for it, I won’t stop you but I’d rather just sit here and drink my way into oblivion. So if you don;t mind, either walk away or join me. I’d prefer the former.” 

Now this was a situation he would certainly need to pussyfoot around. He knew quite well that if there were to be a conflict between the two, he must not be the first to strike, and even then he couldn’t be sure of what would happen next. Unless, of course, he were to use a petrifying spell, but that may be more trouble than what it was worth. He had a duty to report her and to bring her to be punished, and although he did not want to go this route, he couldn’t bring himself to simply walk away. Perhaps he could trick her, as difficult that may be. Perhaps less difficult if she continued drinking. “Well, Miss Chittock, I am not too eager to betray my prefect duties and simply leave you here. Since you’ve given me a choice which, in reality, is not much of a choice, it seems that I’ll have to stay and be sure you don’t get up to further nonsense. Nox.” After dimming his wand then lowering it from her face, taking a seat in the alcove as far from her as he could –– not without snatching the bottle of mead from her, of course. He took a swig and grimaced, before placing it onto the stone floor between them, and taking a dramatic swallow of the drink. “Cheap shite,” he muttered, crossing his arms and glaring towards her. “Never thought in all my years as a prefect, I’d have to babysit a student and watch her drinking such garbage.”