Post by Soleus Lestrange on Jul 30, 2013 13:43:14 GMT
Yeah they might be a bit shit but I wrote some like 6 or 7 years ago so forgive me. I'm not putting the others on because they are really terrible I was obviously terrified to attempt writing a sex scene and probably still am in spite of the nature of my character. Haha
THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG
You’re alone. The common room’s empty. All except for you. You've paced it over again and again so many times now, you’ve lost count. Everyone’s gone up to the dormitories now, to sleep for the night. Everyone except you. You’re still up. Wondering. Worrying. You look over at the discarded note on the floor. It’s still there. As much as you want to, you can’t ignore it. But that’s the problem, of course. You don’t want to ignore it. And the more you tell yourself you don’t want him, the more you do.
You fold your arms into each other, and strain your ears to listen for the slightest sound. You hear nothing but House Elves shuffling around, cleaning, underneath you. They must be so sick of it. But you don’t care, of course. You’re Slytherin. Like you give a fuck about those elves. Staring into the unlit fireplace, you wish that it was lit now. So the fire could keep you warm while the flames danced around the fire grate. But it’s not lit. The room is cold, and in your school uniform of only a school shirt and skirt, you shiver. You wish even more that you could be asleep in your dorm right now. You could try, of course. But you can’t sleep.
You cast your eyes again upon the note. Scrawled across it are spidery letters, ordering you to meet him on the Astronomy tower. You shake your head and gulp back the lump in your throat, as if it will help you convince yourself. You won’t give in. You promise yourself. You know what he’s like. But you don’t know him. You don’t know anything about him. He’s unreadable, you tell yourself. But the mystery of what lies beneath the dark hair and silver eyes just makes you want to know more. It makes you want him more.
He wants you, too. He’s written it, on the letter. How can you know he’s telling the truth? He’s said it to a million girls before. You’re just one of them. You tighten your grip around yourself, pulling your arms in. It hurts. Or maybe, you’re different. Maybe you’re special. This makes you even angrier at yourself, of course you aren’t special. Stop hoping for the best, when you could end up with the worst. You dig your nails into your arm, trying to stop yourself thinking about it. You don’t even realise you’re doing it. You’re so tired, staying up all night. Finally you feel pain from your arm, your nails are sharp and they hurt. You hurt. He doesn’t even realise, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. The flirting and harmless teasing is fine, when it stays harmless. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. You furrow your brow in thought. The line between physical and mental pain blurs- they’re almost fusing together. You don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. He feels so right. But you know he’s so wrong.
You knew you were going to give in right from the second you got that letter from him. You’re still pacing, but now you’re up on the Astronomy tower, feeling like a human icicle more than anything else. You stop. It’s dark, you can’t see anything and you’re stood in the bitter wind. It feels like it’s cutting through your skin like a thousand little daggers. You screw up your face against it and pull your cloak around you.
He said this time, didn’t he? You fumble around your pockets and pull out the letter hastily. You feel like you’re being watched, but you aren’t. A shiver shoots down your spine as you scan over the letter and your eyes catch on the signature at the bottom of the parchment. You barely know this guy. But it’s starting to feel like your entire life revolves around him. Every time someone mentions his name, your heart skips a beat. You can’t control it. Even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to stop thinking about him. The way he moves, his hair falling perfectly into his eyes when he looks up. The way he speaks, his voice so smooth and velvet-like. The way he looks at you, his eyes so piercing that you feel as if he’s looking straight through your soul, through your heart and your brain, your memories, your thoughts. It feels like he can see everything about you, like your heart’s just ripped open with all your emotions on show. You hate it. His eyes could rip so easily right through your skin until they found every little secret hidden about you. Secrets laid bare for his mind to see. To hurt. He could hurt you so easily. He already has. Not even intentionally. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about you. Forget him.
You stare across the Hogwarts grounds, gripping the letter a little too tightly to your chest. You think. You can’t forget him, of course you can’t. Or you would have done by now. Wouldn’t you?
No. You need him too much. Ever since you first met him he’s been like a drug to you. All he does is tease you till you feel like you’re going to implode, but you need him to. You need him to smirk at you across the classroom. You need him to then do it to every other girl and make you feel like your heart’s just been trodden on. Even if it kills you inside, it’s him. It’s all about him, to do with him. You fucking need him.
You feel his fingertips on the bottom of your back. It’s not like anything else. You don’t even jump. You’re so used to him just turning up. His fingers are soft and only lightly trace the hem of your school shirt. He’s barely even touching you and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and press your lips together so hard it hurts. He pulls them slowly and deliberately up your back and then slides his palm over your shoulder.
“I knew you’d come.” He says, his voice filling your ears. Suddenly the sound of the wind is non-existent, and all you can hear is him. You grip the wall in front of you and prize your eyes open, to stare across the black lake. You don’t blink; the wind stings your eyes. You don’t care. He’s here.
Next his lips are upon your neck, starting from your shoulder and working their way slowly –almost painfully for you- up your neck. You inhale shakily and you can smell him, the same as always. Mint, cold night air and something that you can never place. You grip the wall even tighter and tilt your head the way he wants. You know what he’s like. His lips drag firmly but gently along your jawbone, he’s still behind you and he wraps his left arm up your shirt, around your waist in one smooth, fluid motion. The Dark Mark is hot against your freezing skin, it almost burns but you don’t care. He’s making your knees go slightly weak. But you can stand it. Barely, but you can. His thumb traces little circles across your skin. Then he moves your hair off your neck with his free hand, and -contrasting to his soft lips- he bites lightly, playfully. You gasp slightly, and regret it immediately. You feel his hot breath on your skin as he chuckles at you softly.
“When will you learn?” He mumbles, keeping his head down on your shoulder, kissing slowly but firmly.
“Fuck you, Soleus.” You say, but your voice quivers and breaks when you dare to flick your eyes upon his.
He smirks.
THE FINAL BATTLE
Soleus' Dark Mark was throbbing more than ever.
"Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed..."
He shifted his weight onto his other foot as he impatiently looked across the grounds, squinting to see through the darkness, over his fellow Death Eater's heads. He was ready to go, and having to wait these few minutes wasn't making him happy. He grit his teeth together and half-listened to what the Dark Lord was saying, as his voice was ringing out over the grounds, Hogsmeade, and probably miles away in every direction.
"Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched..."
Soleus' hands were sweaty from gripping his wand, his hair was ruffled from the wind, and his cloak flapped endlessly in the night air. He flicked the wand into his free hand, automatically rubbed his hand across his cloak, and then grasped the mahogany wand with his right hand again.
"Give me Harry Potter, and you shall be rewarded..."
Soleus had escaped from the school a couple of weeks before, abandoning his studies to do what he was born for; to serve the Dark Lord himself. He was raised to become what he was today, a Death Eater. And a good one, at that. And now here he was, poised just inside the Forbidden Forest, wand in arm, listening and waiting to cause havoc to the school and the people inside.
"You have until midnight."
His mother, Bellatrix, was stood at the side of him, cackling quietly, her hair whipping around her face.
"Hear him speak, my son..." She muttered in amazement, as Voldemort finished his speech. She breathed in the cold air through her nose, smiling insanely, as if she could smell her master, even though he wasn't close by. Soleus wasn't actually sure where the Dark Lord was right now- but that wasn't for him to be worrying about. He had instructions, they all did. And he was to follow them, follow them perfectly- or die.
The Death Eater's shuffled around a little, and one, Soleus couldn't tell who in the dark, said, "Five minutes, five minutes and it starts," the voice sounded anxious. Soleus felt the same way. Someone nudged him with their elbow, and Soleus turned his head sharply, arching an eyebrow. It was Dolohov, and his eyes were alight with mischief.
"Excited, Lestrange?" He breathed, his voice a little wheezy from the amount of cigarettes he smoked. Soleus could smell it on his breath, but it was nothing he wasn't used to, smoking at odd times himself. Soleus allowed his lips to curl up slightly at the edges in a smirk. He chuckled lightly.
"Why wouldn't I be, Dolohov? I trust you'll be fighting just as hard as I will?"
Dolohov chuckled back, "You sound just like your mother, boy." He turned away, signalling he was done talking, and stared ahead, a grin slowly forming on his face as he saw people piling out of the school. Soleus followed his stare, and, seeing a flourish of red, yellow and blue robes, laughed to himself.
"Aw, look, even the Huffles and the Claws are joining in," He smirked evilly, "How lovely." Soleus drawled. His mother laughed approvingly.
"We should go," someone said.
"No, fools! We have a minute to wait. Didn't you hear the Lord? We have to wait!" His mother snapped viciously. Everyone fell silent, and seemed to absent-mindedly count down. With around 30 seconds to go, Bellatrix asked, "Soleus, you know what you are to do, yes?"
Soleus looked impatient, and wanted to glare at his mother, but out of respect- she was his mother, after all- instead nodded and said simply, "Yes, mother." Bellatrix turned towards the group, and raised her voice.
"Well then, friends, it's time to go!" She shrieked shrilly, obviously pleased that Voldemort had let her lead the group.
And with that, the Death Eater's ran off across the grounds in the formation they discussed, splitting up and disappearing in their black cloaks into the night.
***
Ashley Godfrey had turned up an hour or so before, when she heard what was going on at Hogwarts tonight. But instead of being where her housemates were, outside waiting in the cold, she was sat inside the Great Hall with a group of seventh year Ravenclaws, listening to the same cold, terrifying, hissing voice Soleus heard outside. But she was frightened of it, rather than excited. She knew she had to do what was right, and she knew whose side she was on in this war- even if it left her on the other side than people maybe expected.
She rolled up the sleeves on her sweater, and licked her lips nervously as the voice stopped, and Pansy Parkinson started whining about something. Then people started evacuating, and Ashley stayed put.
She was nervous, very nervous- she couldn't deny that. She was very bright and knew plenty of spells that would mean she was victorious in her duels ahead, but she had never used them in combat before. And the prospect of fighting Death Eaters, petrified her.
Growing up in the Godfrey household, Ashley knew all about the Death Eaters - her father, even, was one himself. She knew what they were like. They'd kill you without thinking. Most of them, anyway. They wouldn't spare you even if you pleaded. Some of them -like Bellatrix Lestrange, Ashley knew of her, and her insanity- would take pleasure out of your suffering, and enjoy you pleading them to spare you.
Ashley was becoming more nervous ever minute that passed. But she only had a few minutes left, before the Death Eaters would be waiting hungrily in the dark, and the Hogwarts students and professors would have to leave, to fight. And she was dreading facing the Death Eaters so much it pained her. The thought of Bellatrix Lestrange, so wild, unforgiving and sadistic, made Ashley feel sick with worry.
But there was another who'd be outside the castle walls right now, who'd be cloaked in black and whose skin would be glowing in a most distractingly seductive way in the moonlight, whom she dreaded facing even more-so tonight.
***
SOLEUS BLACK → DAPHNE GREENGRASS
Kicking over an empty rum bottle, I stepped toward my four-poster bed and sat down heavily on the perfectly folded sheets. Stupid house-elves actually did something right once in a while. I hung my head in my hands, and started to think for the first time in a rather long time. But, I couldn’t seem to think very straight. My thoughts buzzed around annoyingly. Right now, everything was pissing me off. I let out a low growl, glad to be alone in the dormitories.
Today had been such a bore. And, although I should probably be glad of the now fast-approaching weekend awaiting me, all I could do was growl incomprehensibly. I ran my hands over my tired face and back into my hair, in a futile attempt to push it down. It sprung back stubbornly. I let out a sigh.
Glaring into the darkening room, I leant down and felt under my bed, closing my hand around a glass bottle. It was cold to the touch, making it quite pleasant against my warm palm. I quickly unscrewed the cap and automatically lifted the familiar stuff to my lips, when I caught sight of myself in the amber-coloured liquid and stopped. I squinted, irritated, as the image slowly but surely mutated into an annoyingly pretty blonde figure. She glared warningly at me.
I rolled my eyes in return, replaced the cap without so much as a single sip and rammed the bottle back under my bed with the rest of my not-so-secret stash. It wasn’t as if anyone would say anything to me. I’m Soleus Black. Soleus Lestrange, for Merlin’s sake.
Letting out a final low-pitched sigh for good measure, I stood up lazily and started my walk to one of my favourite bathrooms.
Seeing as it was evening, I decided that trying to sneak into the Prefects’ bathroom was not a good idea. Right now, I didn’t feel like facing quite a few angry prefects, so I descended the stairs and traipsed to the seventh year’s male bathroom.
When I got there, it was empty, so I closed the door behind me and locked it with my wand. I didn’t fancy any company unless it was some hot girl. And, chances are, if there was some hot girl about, I’d’ve already seen her near-enough naked anyway. I smirked smugly to myself, and pulled my shoes and socks off, followed by my tie. Tossing it over an empty sink, I noticed how well the green and silver went together. So Slytherin. I tilted my head, deep in thought.
I belonged here in Slytherin, at Hogwarts. I was sure of it. Well, I still am. But would anything be any different if I was still at Durmstrang?
I looked at myself in the mirror in front of me, and sniggered happily, if a little conceitedly.
Of course it’d be different without me.
I sighed, and tugged off my school shirt, turning away from the mirror Although I looked perfectly good today, I wasn’t particularly bothered about watching myself undress. Besides, It always looks so much better when there’s a girl doing it.
Undoing the button at the top of my school trousers, I thought over the plan for my Friday night. I hopped out of the folds of black material. Maybe I’d sneak out. I laughed to myself. I do that every Friday, so there wasn’t much doubt about that.
I turned the tap on full next to me, and tugged off the last piece of clothing left on me. I then stepped under the steaming hot water, and let out a happy groan at the warmth of it. I rolled my shoulders, allowing the running liquid ease my tense muscles.
When I pushed the hair out of my eyes, and let the water run over my tanned body I wondered how many of the girls in my current classes would love to be the water on my hot skin right now. I let my mind wander, a smirk etched upon my lips.
Half the girls in my year at least, surely.
Or was I kidding myself?
I looked down at myself, and snickered quietly.
Yeah, right. Most would offer their left arms to be the liquid trickling across the snake inked as if it was winding itself around my stomach muscles.
I ran my tongue across my wet lips, tasting the water there. It tasted so boring compared to my usual drinks.
I relaxed and closed my eyes, simply enjoying the warmth, when, just as suddenly, I snapped my eyes open and cursed loudly. The water had run cold. Quickly I turned the tap off, stopping the flow then I jumped out and grabbed a towel. Folding it neatly around my waist, I ran over to the door and unlocked it, mumbling angrily.
I flung open the door and looked around accusingly. Steam rolled across the floor from under the girl's bathroom door opposite my own. I clenched my teeth angrily, and stepped forward, then rapped on the door.
A robed Daphne Greengrass opened the door, a perfectly groomed eyebrow cocked in annoyance, looking me up and down.
"No, Black, you cannot join me in my bath." Her usual icy tone said almost immediately. Her perceptive eyes lingered on my dripping-wet body. "Although how you've come all prepared, is rather flattering." She smirked her trademark bitchy smirk, and swapped her weight to her other foot, causing her hip to jut out at one side, the split in her expensive-looking black silk robe allowing me to see maybe more of her leg than she'd have liked. I paused for a few moments, taking in her long legs, and decided to take my chances.
"Aw, Greengrass. Can you really deny this-?" I drawled. She cocked an eyebrow even higher, took in my naked top half once more, her eyes lingering maybe a second more than she'd like to show upon the V shape my hip-bones made across my lower abdomen. And then she said simply,
"Yes, I can." And shut the heavy wooden door in my face.
I growled.
"I know what you'll be thinking about tonight, while you're in bed, all alone..." I said through the door, my voice low and untrembling, despite how good she had looked and how, because of said fact, my head suddenly felt as if I'd been hung upside down.
"Yes," She replied, "How satisfied I will be when-"
"When I'm running my tongue across your-"
"When I kill you!"
I glared at the door, and went silently to collect my clothes.
Damn her. All that and not even chance to see her properly. And now my head was spinning. Just... Damn her. Stupid Greengrass and her legs.
THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG
You’re alone. The common room’s empty. All except for you. You've paced it over again and again so many times now, you’ve lost count. Everyone’s gone up to the dormitories now, to sleep for the night. Everyone except you. You’re still up. Wondering. Worrying. You look over at the discarded note on the floor. It’s still there. As much as you want to, you can’t ignore it. But that’s the problem, of course. You don’t want to ignore it. And the more you tell yourself you don’t want him, the more you do.
You fold your arms into each other, and strain your ears to listen for the slightest sound. You hear nothing but House Elves shuffling around, cleaning, underneath you. They must be so sick of it. But you don’t care, of course. You’re Slytherin. Like you give a fuck about those elves. Staring into the unlit fireplace, you wish that it was lit now. So the fire could keep you warm while the flames danced around the fire grate. But it’s not lit. The room is cold, and in your school uniform of only a school shirt and skirt, you shiver. You wish even more that you could be asleep in your dorm right now. You could try, of course. But you can’t sleep.
You cast your eyes again upon the note. Scrawled across it are spidery letters, ordering you to meet him on the Astronomy tower. You shake your head and gulp back the lump in your throat, as if it will help you convince yourself. You won’t give in. You promise yourself. You know what he’s like. But you don’t know him. You don’t know anything about him. He’s unreadable, you tell yourself. But the mystery of what lies beneath the dark hair and silver eyes just makes you want to know more. It makes you want him more.
He wants you, too. He’s written it, on the letter. How can you know he’s telling the truth? He’s said it to a million girls before. You’re just one of them. You tighten your grip around yourself, pulling your arms in. It hurts. Or maybe, you’re different. Maybe you’re special. This makes you even angrier at yourself, of course you aren’t special. Stop hoping for the best, when you could end up with the worst. You dig your nails into your arm, trying to stop yourself thinking about it. You don’t even realise you’re doing it. You’re so tired, staying up all night. Finally you feel pain from your arm, your nails are sharp and they hurt. You hurt. He doesn’t even realise, either. He doesn’t know what he’s doing to you. The flirting and harmless teasing is fine, when it stays harmless. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. You furrow your brow in thought. The line between physical and mental pain blurs- they’re almost fusing together. You don’t know what’s right or wrong anymore. He feels so right. But you know he’s so wrong.
You knew you were going to give in right from the second you got that letter from him. You’re still pacing, but now you’re up on the Astronomy tower, feeling like a human icicle more than anything else. You stop. It’s dark, you can’t see anything and you’re stood in the bitter wind. It feels like it’s cutting through your skin like a thousand little daggers. You screw up your face against it and pull your cloak around you.
He said this time, didn’t he? You fumble around your pockets and pull out the letter hastily. You feel like you’re being watched, but you aren’t. A shiver shoots down your spine as you scan over the letter and your eyes catch on the signature at the bottom of the parchment. You barely know this guy. But it’s starting to feel like your entire life revolves around him. Every time someone mentions his name, your heart skips a beat. You can’t control it. Even if you could, you wouldn’t be able to bring yourself to stop thinking about him. The way he moves, his hair falling perfectly into his eyes when he looks up. The way he speaks, his voice so smooth and velvet-like. The way he looks at you, his eyes so piercing that you feel as if he’s looking straight through your soul, through your heart and your brain, your memories, your thoughts. It feels like he can see everything about you, like your heart’s just ripped open with all your emotions on show. You hate it. His eyes could rip so easily right through your skin until they found every little secret hidden about you. Secrets laid bare for his mind to see. To hurt. He could hurt you so easily. He already has. Not even intentionally. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about you. Forget him.
You stare across the Hogwarts grounds, gripping the letter a little too tightly to your chest. You think. You can’t forget him, of course you can’t. Or you would have done by now. Wouldn’t you?
No. You need him too much. Ever since you first met him he’s been like a drug to you. All he does is tease you till you feel like you’re going to implode, but you need him to. You need him to smirk at you across the classroom. You need him to then do it to every other girl and make you feel like your heart’s just been trodden on. Even if it kills you inside, it’s him. It’s all about him, to do with him. You fucking need him.
You feel his fingertips on the bottom of your back. It’s not like anything else. You don’t even jump. You’re so used to him just turning up. His fingers are soft and only lightly trace the hem of your school shirt. He’s barely even touching you and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and press your lips together so hard it hurts. He pulls them slowly and deliberately up your back and then slides his palm over your shoulder.
“I knew you’d come.” He says, his voice filling your ears. Suddenly the sound of the wind is non-existent, and all you can hear is him. You grip the wall in front of you and prize your eyes open, to stare across the black lake. You don’t blink; the wind stings your eyes. You don’t care. He’s here.
Next his lips are upon your neck, starting from your shoulder and working their way slowly –almost painfully for you- up your neck. You inhale shakily and you can smell him, the same as always. Mint, cold night air and something that you can never place. You grip the wall even tighter and tilt your head the way he wants. You know what he’s like. His lips drag firmly but gently along your jawbone, he’s still behind you and he wraps his left arm up your shirt, around your waist in one smooth, fluid motion. The Dark Mark is hot against your freezing skin, it almost burns but you don’t care. He’s making your knees go slightly weak. But you can stand it. Barely, but you can. His thumb traces little circles across your skin. Then he moves your hair off your neck with his free hand, and -contrasting to his soft lips- he bites lightly, playfully. You gasp slightly, and regret it immediately. You feel his hot breath on your skin as he chuckles at you softly.
“When will you learn?” He mumbles, keeping his head down on your shoulder, kissing slowly but firmly.
“Fuck you, Soleus.” You say, but your voice quivers and breaks when you dare to flick your eyes upon his.
He smirks.
THE FINAL BATTLE
Soleus' Dark Mark was throbbing more than ever.
"Give me Harry Potter, and none shall be harmed..."
He shifted his weight onto his other foot as he impatiently looked across the grounds, squinting to see through the darkness, over his fellow Death Eater's heads. He was ready to go, and having to wait these few minutes wasn't making him happy. He grit his teeth together and half-listened to what the Dark Lord was saying, as his voice was ringing out over the grounds, Hogsmeade, and probably miles away in every direction.
"Give me Harry Potter, and I shall leave the school untouched..."
Soleus' hands were sweaty from gripping his wand, his hair was ruffled from the wind, and his cloak flapped endlessly in the night air. He flicked the wand into his free hand, automatically rubbed his hand across his cloak, and then grasped the mahogany wand with his right hand again.
"Give me Harry Potter, and you shall be rewarded..."
Soleus had escaped from the school a couple of weeks before, abandoning his studies to do what he was born for; to serve the Dark Lord himself. He was raised to become what he was today, a Death Eater. And a good one, at that. And now here he was, poised just inside the Forbidden Forest, wand in arm, listening and waiting to cause havoc to the school and the people inside.
"You have until midnight."
His mother, Bellatrix, was stood at the side of him, cackling quietly, her hair whipping around her face.
"Hear him speak, my son..." She muttered in amazement, as Voldemort finished his speech. She breathed in the cold air through her nose, smiling insanely, as if she could smell her master, even though he wasn't close by. Soleus wasn't actually sure where the Dark Lord was right now- but that wasn't for him to be worrying about. He had instructions, they all did. And he was to follow them, follow them perfectly- or die.
The Death Eater's shuffled around a little, and one, Soleus couldn't tell who in the dark, said, "Five minutes, five minutes and it starts," the voice sounded anxious. Soleus felt the same way. Someone nudged him with their elbow, and Soleus turned his head sharply, arching an eyebrow. It was Dolohov, and his eyes were alight with mischief.
"Excited, Lestrange?" He breathed, his voice a little wheezy from the amount of cigarettes he smoked. Soleus could smell it on his breath, but it was nothing he wasn't used to, smoking at odd times himself. Soleus allowed his lips to curl up slightly at the edges in a smirk. He chuckled lightly.
"Why wouldn't I be, Dolohov? I trust you'll be fighting just as hard as I will?"
Dolohov chuckled back, "You sound just like your mother, boy." He turned away, signalling he was done talking, and stared ahead, a grin slowly forming on his face as he saw people piling out of the school. Soleus followed his stare, and, seeing a flourish of red, yellow and blue robes, laughed to himself.
"Aw, look, even the Huffles and the Claws are joining in," He smirked evilly, "How lovely." Soleus drawled. His mother laughed approvingly.
"We should go," someone said.
"No, fools! We have a minute to wait. Didn't you hear the Lord? We have to wait!" His mother snapped viciously. Everyone fell silent, and seemed to absent-mindedly count down. With around 30 seconds to go, Bellatrix asked, "Soleus, you know what you are to do, yes?"
Soleus looked impatient, and wanted to glare at his mother, but out of respect- she was his mother, after all- instead nodded and said simply, "Yes, mother." Bellatrix turned towards the group, and raised her voice.
"Well then, friends, it's time to go!" She shrieked shrilly, obviously pleased that Voldemort had let her lead the group.
And with that, the Death Eater's ran off across the grounds in the formation they discussed, splitting up and disappearing in their black cloaks into the night.
***
Ashley Godfrey had turned up an hour or so before, when she heard what was going on at Hogwarts tonight. But instead of being where her housemates were, outside waiting in the cold, she was sat inside the Great Hall with a group of seventh year Ravenclaws, listening to the same cold, terrifying, hissing voice Soleus heard outside. But she was frightened of it, rather than excited. She knew she had to do what was right, and she knew whose side she was on in this war- even if it left her on the other side than people maybe expected.
She rolled up the sleeves on her sweater, and licked her lips nervously as the voice stopped, and Pansy Parkinson started whining about something. Then people started evacuating, and Ashley stayed put.
She was nervous, very nervous- she couldn't deny that. She was very bright and knew plenty of spells that would mean she was victorious in her duels ahead, but she had never used them in combat before. And the prospect of fighting Death Eaters, petrified her.
Growing up in the Godfrey household, Ashley knew all about the Death Eaters - her father, even, was one himself. She knew what they were like. They'd kill you without thinking. Most of them, anyway. They wouldn't spare you even if you pleaded. Some of them -like Bellatrix Lestrange, Ashley knew of her, and her insanity- would take pleasure out of your suffering, and enjoy you pleading them to spare you.
Ashley was becoming more nervous ever minute that passed. But she only had a few minutes left, before the Death Eaters would be waiting hungrily in the dark, and the Hogwarts students and professors would have to leave, to fight. And she was dreading facing the Death Eaters so much it pained her. The thought of Bellatrix Lestrange, so wild, unforgiving and sadistic, made Ashley feel sick with worry.
But there was another who'd be outside the castle walls right now, who'd be cloaked in black and whose skin would be glowing in a most distractingly seductive way in the moonlight, whom she dreaded facing even more-so tonight.
***
SOLEUS BLACK → DAPHNE GREENGRASS
Kicking over an empty rum bottle, I stepped toward my four-poster bed and sat down heavily on the perfectly folded sheets. Stupid house-elves actually did something right once in a while. I hung my head in my hands, and started to think for the first time in a rather long time. But, I couldn’t seem to think very straight. My thoughts buzzed around annoyingly. Right now, everything was pissing me off. I let out a low growl, glad to be alone in the dormitories.
Today had been such a bore. And, although I should probably be glad of the now fast-approaching weekend awaiting me, all I could do was growl incomprehensibly. I ran my hands over my tired face and back into my hair, in a futile attempt to push it down. It sprung back stubbornly. I let out a sigh.
Glaring into the darkening room, I leant down and felt under my bed, closing my hand around a glass bottle. It was cold to the touch, making it quite pleasant against my warm palm. I quickly unscrewed the cap and automatically lifted the familiar stuff to my lips, when I caught sight of myself in the amber-coloured liquid and stopped. I squinted, irritated, as the image slowly but surely mutated into an annoyingly pretty blonde figure. She glared warningly at me.
I rolled my eyes in return, replaced the cap without so much as a single sip and rammed the bottle back under my bed with the rest of my not-so-secret stash. It wasn’t as if anyone would say anything to me. I’m Soleus Black. Soleus Lestrange, for Merlin’s sake.
Letting out a final low-pitched sigh for good measure, I stood up lazily and started my walk to one of my favourite bathrooms.
Seeing as it was evening, I decided that trying to sneak into the Prefects’ bathroom was not a good idea. Right now, I didn’t feel like facing quite a few angry prefects, so I descended the stairs and traipsed to the seventh year’s male bathroom.
When I got there, it was empty, so I closed the door behind me and locked it with my wand. I didn’t fancy any company unless it was some hot girl. And, chances are, if there was some hot girl about, I’d’ve already seen her near-enough naked anyway. I smirked smugly to myself, and pulled my shoes and socks off, followed by my tie. Tossing it over an empty sink, I noticed how well the green and silver went together. So Slytherin. I tilted my head, deep in thought.
I belonged here in Slytherin, at Hogwarts. I was sure of it. Well, I still am. But would anything be any different if I was still at Durmstrang?
I looked at myself in the mirror in front of me, and sniggered happily, if a little conceitedly.
Of course it’d be different without me.
I sighed, and tugged off my school shirt, turning away from the mirror Although I looked perfectly good today, I wasn’t particularly bothered about watching myself undress. Besides, It always looks so much better when there’s a girl doing it.
Undoing the button at the top of my school trousers, I thought over the plan for my Friday night. I hopped out of the folds of black material. Maybe I’d sneak out. I laughed to myself. I do that every Friday, so there wasn’t much doubt about that.
I turned the tap on full next to me, and tugged off the last piece of clothing left on me. I then stepped under the steaming hot water, and let out a happy groan at the warmth of it. I rolled my shoulders, allowing the running liquid ease my tense muscles.
When I pushed the hair out of my eyes, and let the water run over my tanned body I wondered how many of the girls in my current classes would love to be the water on my hot skin right now. I let my mind wander, a smirk etched upon my lips.
Half the girls in my year at least, surely.
Or was I kidding myself?
I looked down at myself, and snickered quietly.
Yeah, right. Most would offer their left arms to be the liquid trickling across the snake inked as if it was winding itself around my stomach muscles.
I ran my tongue across my wet lips, tasting the water there. It tasted so boring compared to my usual drinks.
I relaxed and closed my eyes, simply enjoying the warmth, when, just as suddenly, I snapped my eyes open and cursed loudly. The water had run cold. Quickly I turned the tap off, stopping the flow then I jumped out and grabbed a towel. Folding it neatly around my waist, I ran over to the door and unlocked it, mumbling angrily.
I flung open the door and looked around accusingly. Steam rolled across the floor from under the girl's bathroom door opposite my own. I clenched my teeth angrily, and stepped forward, then rapped on the door.
A robed Daphne Greengrass opened the door, a perfectly groomed eyebrow cocked in annoyance, looking me up and down.
"No, Black, you cannot join me in my bath." Her usual icy tone said almost immediately. Her perceptive eyes lingered on my dripping-wet body. "Although how you've come all prepared, is rather flattering." She smirked her trademark bitchy smirk, and swapped her weight to her other foot, causing her hip to jut out at one side, the split in her expensive-looking black silk robe allowing me to see maybe more of her leg than she'd have liked. I paused for a few moments, taking in her long legs, and decided to take my chances.
"Aw, Greengrass. Can you really deny this-?" I drawled. She cocked an eyebrow even higher, took in my naked top half once more, her eyes lingering maybe a second more than she'd like to show upon the V shape my hip-bones made across my lower abdomen. And then she said simply,
"Yes, I can." And shut the heavy wooden door in my face.
I growled.
"I know what you'll be thinking about tonight, while you're in bed, all alone..." I said through the door, my voice low and untrembling, despite how good she had looked and how, because of said fact, my head suddenly felt as if I'd been hung upside down.
"Yes," She replied, "How satisfied I will be when-"
"When I'm running my tongue across your-"
"When I kill you!"
I glared at the door, and went silently to collect my clothes.
Damn her. All that and not even chance to see her properly. And now my head was spinning. Just... Damn her. Stupid Greengrass and her legs.
