Armies on the Dancefloor -- (Slytherin's)

[Deleted]

THERE’S AN ARMY ON THE DANCEFLOOR
THERE’S EMPTINESS BEHIND THEIR EYES
AND DUST IN ALL THEIR HEARTS
SWALLOW ALL YOUR TEARS MY LOVE, PUT ON YOUR NEW FACE

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The Halloween ball had long been a tradition at Hogwarts. An excuse for the Professor’s to indulge in a drink or two and the students a chance to dress up and engrace themselves with the likes of the Minister of Magic and other officials who deemed it worthy of the visit. The Professor’s as always had made it painfully clear that attendance was compulsory. Stepping into the Great Hall Rodolphus Lestrange had to fight the despairing groan that threatened to leave his lips. The great hall was done up in the usual arrays of oranges, floating pumpkins tastelessly hung by the decoration committee along side a mass of bunting. The long tables were pushed to the sides of the room and filled with bowls of punch and snacks. Where the Professor’s table could normally be found stood a large stage, an attractive woman that seemed hugely popular with the younger students crooning to a large band, the deep base lines sending pulsations through the stone floor.

This would be Rodolphus’s seventh ball and to say he was grateful it would be the last he was forced to attend was an understatement. At seventeen the eldest Lestrange stood painfully tall and slim, the ganglyness of teenage youth gradually receding for a confidence and arrogance in his own body. He was easily distinguished by the mass of ruffled auburn hair that fell around the handsome typically pureblooded high cheekbones and strong jaw, a mischievous smirk imprinted almost permanently on the youthful face. This year he’d chosen a simple though undoubtedly expensive set of black and emerald dress robes. They rather paled in comparison with his companion who hung upon his arm like a trophy.

Ariana Parkinson looked particularly beautiful that evening, long blonde hair perfectly swept up in an intricate bun, a riskily low cut red dress falling around her, her eyes filled with delight as she looked up at her partner. He on the other hand didn’t so much as cast her a sideways glance. The summer had been full of tedious visits to the Parkinson’s for dinner with his parents, after a year of dating, the unspoken pressure that at some point this year he should find himself on one knee was stifling. Despite his parent’s wishes, he had no intention of proposing to Ariana, sure she was beautiful and her blood lineage impressive but the idea of conversing with her for an evening yet alone spending a life time with her constantly around bored him to tears. It seemed almost everyone in Hogwarts but poor Ariana knew that she was not the one Rodolphus truly wanted on his arm.

Rodolphus had long grown bored of Hogwarts, the juvenile pranks, bullying the younger years and Gryffindor’s, even the darker magic he and a select few of his friends had turned their attentions to were losing their lustre. It was time for new things, bigger games, time for action. He sat with a smile in the career meetings and told his Professor’s he intended to take a few gap years to travel with his inherited fortune from his grandfather then apply to the Ministry. Nothing could be further from the truth. Like many of his fellow students who had heard the whispers of the growing power of a new dark wizard, Rodolphus had greedily collected each new bit of information and badgered his father for the truth. Marcus had eventually relented and agreed to present his two worryingly eager eyed sons to this Dark Lord (though Rodolphus still held firmly he would never call another ‘master’) when it was next convenient.

Stepping into the great hall, several eyes turned to survey him and his date, they had become quite the impressive ‘power couple’ as it were over the last year. A shame really, that by the end of the night Rodolphus intended to have ended it. “Professors!” He greeted with a nod and wide smile as he passed the cluster of teachers huddled together with watchful eyes. Almost all of their faces but Professor Slughorns who gave him a bright beam back fell dramatically, no doubt they would be delighted to see the back of the cluster of sinister 7th year Slytherin’s at the end of the year. ‘I expect you and that brother of yours on best behaviour tonight Lestrange.’ The old history of magic professor growled darkly, Rodolphus merely grinned back “Of course Professor when are we not?”. Before he could answer Rodolphus made his escape across the room, Ariana dragged on his arm in tow. Stopping to prop up one of the high stone walls, his eyes scanned the crowds, resisting the sneer that threatened to cross his face at the sights of the Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws already wrapped in dance or large giggling clusters of groups. Only one more year, one more year and he’d never have to stand in the same room as these idiots and scum again.

He peered around for the usual group of Slytherin’s he could be found with, they at least would make the evening slightly bearable if nothing else. No doubt who had brought who and who had been shunned would be a point of drama for weeks in the common room. It wouldn’t be a ball without at least one Slytherin blow up. He spotted his brother, Rabastan first, suspiciously loitering around the punch bowl. Rather less discreetly then he imagined his little brother thought he was being Rodolphus watched as he emptied two large hip flasks of what he guessed was probably gin into the punch bowls before scurrying off. Perhaps tonight would be some fun afterall. If nothing else they’d be some rather green first years to laugh at.
“I’ll get you some punch.” He smiled at his ‘girlfriend’ of the last year innocently, interrupting as she was about to open her mouth to start conversation, no doubt to give him ever more thrilling information on the other girl’s dresses. Hopefully Lucius or one of the others had remembered to sneak in the good stuff, turning to Rabastan’s home brewed gin never made for a pretty end to a night, something he conveniently forgot to mention as he fetched a glass for his date, giving the punch the good stir to mask the gin his brother had forgotten.

HOGWARTS, HALLOWEEN BALL, 1970’S,
TAG: SLYTHERIN’S OF THE ERA. WORDS: 1103

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[SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, border-left: #405142 4px solid; border-right: #405142 2px dashed; background: #161616; padding-top: 16px; padding-right: 16px; padding-left: 16px; padding-bottom: 12px; -moz-border-radius: 10px; width: 368px;] [/style][style=width: 400px; line-height: 30px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 40px; text-shadow: #505050 1px 0px 1px; color: #405142; letter-spacing: -4px; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: center;]-- Armies on the Dancefloor -- ---When It Chills To The Core --- Severus closed the most recent untranslatable Transfiguration concept manual and set his forehead upon it with an audible thunk. Of all the things to inherit, it had to be his mother's complete inability to understand anything related to the subject he was now desperately seeking an A in. It was by far his worst subject and had been since the very first day he'd stepped foot in McGonagall's detestable classroom. Bad enough that he struggled in anything related to academia, but that he struggled in something a Gryffindor could teach was just downright insulting. Letting out a long suffering groan, Severus admitted defeat. He was going to need Eric, or he was doomed for Friday's exam. Rising from his chair in the library, Severus picked up the book and returned it to its spot on the shelf, ever diligent. The young Slytherin had a respect for books even a Ravenclaw could admire, and naturally a perk of that was avoiding the considerable wrath of over-protective Hogwarts librarians by sheer default. Making his way to the ground floor, Severus utilized a few hidden passages out of automatic instinct; it wasn’t often that he did anything by himself anymore, as the risk of ambush was so incredibly high, but today Severus had been in desperate need of escape from the Slythering common room and the pressure of his friends. Even now, it still gave him pause to think that he had friends, but he knew full well that was exactly what his dormmates were. They protected him (even when he didn’t want protection) supported him (even when he didn’t want them around) and teased him until he had no choice but to laugh at their stupidity (even though laughing was bad). Shaking his head as he stepped out from behind a suit of armor on the first floor, the scrappy third year hardly had to turn himself to get through the small space. He did, however, plaster himself back against the wall as a group of chattering Ravenclaw girls in dresses and masks came past, laughing gaily about the prospect of the ball Severus had been aiming to avoid – compulsory attendance be damned. Darting down to the dungeons, Severus hoped he could convince Eric to give him some guidance before going (As for reasons beyond Severus, his friend was excited about the ball). He stood aside as some of the older Slytherin girls – fifth years, he was fairly certain – came out of the portrait hole leading to the common room, before slipping inside. He had barely made it to the dorm when he was grabbed and dragged by an over-enthusiastic Eric over to the mirror. Before Severus could even speak, Eric was patting down his hair, tutting about something or other, and blathering on about spiked punch and finding a way to turn McGonagall’s hair pink and pin it on Potter. His friend was handing him a mask by the time Severus snapped, ”I’m not going, Eric!”

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’But you have to go Severus, its mandatory. Besides, I need you to help me distract the lion tamer while Destin works on her hair – ‘

”I have to study,” Severus stressed – honestly meaning it – before adding, ”Not to mention the whole thing is stupid – “

’Is not! Turning the tamer’s hair pink is going to be glorious – ‘

”Not that!” Severus interrupted quickly, before his friend could completely derail the conversation, ”The ball. The ball is stupid. And I’m not going.”

Eric looked like he was about to throw some kind of fit, but Destin flopped over the smaller boys shoulder and grinned at Severus, instantly setting him on edge. Like Lucas, Destin was considerably larger than Eric and Severus were (And even Eric had a couple stones on Severus) and his current grin was one Severus usually attributed to the coming of blackmail. Sure enough –

’Oh, you’ll be coming Sev m’mate, or I’ll be telling Lucius about – ‘

”Fine!” Severus barked quickly, flushing darkly with mortification as Destin laughed and Eric ribbed him for teasing Severus again about that nightmare he’d had in second year that had him calling Lucius’ name for help.

Still utterly horrified, Severus reluctantly followed his two friends out of the common room, grateful Destin hadn’t tried to blackmail him into dressing up. He didn’t exactly own anything else, and was not entirely keen on admitting it (Though he was fairly sure by this point that his dormmates had figured it out for themselves).

Perhaps feeling bad about his own tactics, Destin through an arm over Severus’ shoulder and gave him a cheery half-hug as they walked, brightly chattering on about how they could make this night one to remember if they went about it right. Still sore with him, Severus just glowered at the ground and trudged on toward the hall, still thinking about his coming Transfigurations exam he had no wish to fail.

Entering the Great Hall, Severus looked automatically toward the pumpkins that floated above them, same as last year. He imagined it was the same in his first year, too, though he’d managed to get out of the first ball by pretending to be ill (And spending the rest of the night hiding from Pomfrey). It wasn’t that Severus hated Halloween – in fact, before Hogwarts, it had been one of his favorite hols. Tobias had an annual tradition of spending the entire night out – doing what, Severus couldn’t imagine – but it meant an entire night in which he and his mum could relax and do whatever they wished.

He had loved Halloween for that guaranteed time with his mum, for the smiles she would share with him and the games they would play. Unlike most other times, when spare time together was furtive and a bit troubled, Halloween was the one night of the year where they always had fun; no lessons, no sad conversations, just a mother and son making a mess of the kitchen and sharing in smiles and even – sometimes – quiet laughs on a day that felt truly safe for both of them.

Severus’ problem stemmed from the fact he couldn’t go home for Halloween, and continue that tradition. Instead he was expected to attend a ball with far too many people in it, and being instinctively distrusting of most folk and rather alarmed when in large groups of people, the whole concept was entirely off-putting to the boy.

Not seeing Lucius straight off, and wanting to spend some time with the older Slytherins before they left for the year (Or so Eric and Destin claimed; Severus was certain his dormmates were in fact hoping to get help from the older students in pranking McGonagall. That they had the nerve to ask such things of the older, more mature Slytherins astonished Severus and made him very reluctant to follow them). Nevertheless, he soon found himself by the punchbowl near Rodolphus, his eyes downcast out of embarrassment for the fact his friends were bringing him along to pester the older teen, and hoping against hope that Rodolphus wouldn’t be too displeased with his presence.

As Eric and Destin chattered away, Severus sought for a distraction and, seeing as Rodolphus was pouring himself a glass of punch, assumed that the drink was not yet tampered with. So, completely oblivious to Rodolphus’ true intentions for the punch, Severus also poured himself a glass. Perhaps Rodolphus didn’t notice, what with being accosted as he was by two enthusiastic third years, or perhaps he thought it would be funny to see Snape’s response to the gin. Whatever the reason, it ended poorly for him when Severus took a draft of the punch and promptly spat it back out – right on Rodolphus’ robes.

Eyes wide with instant horror, Severus’ heart stopped beating and the whole world blacked out around him as he focused on the damp spot he had made on the older Slytherin’s robes. After all Rodolphus had done to help him, to go and spit upon him – there were no words to describe the abject terror and humiliation coursing through Severus’ veins. Though perhaps the fact he had turned whiter than a ghost and seemed about to faint might have been a clue. That or the fact he had apparently completely forgotten he was a third year wizard perfectly capable of casting a drying spell and apologizing with a laugh like any normal person.

”R-Rodolphus,” Severus stammered, his voice very small, ”I-I’m sorry – I didn’t mean – “ At this point, Severus really did look about a second away from a dead faint of fear, ”Forgive me – I – the punch – it –“ Still completely incoherent in his terror, the third year waved a hand at the older boy’s robes as though to explain that which Rodolphus was undoubtedly already aware.
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words: 1463
notes: Buahaha xD Sorry Roddy <3 Had to. XDD
tag: Slytherins of the era!
template by eliza @ shadowplay

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[amber2]

Dances, or any social event held by Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry really, were not things that Bellatrix wanted to attend. She supposed they could be amusing if someone she didn't liked ended up getting hurt or something. Actually, that was really the only thing she was looking forward to: watching people get hurt. It always happened at school functions. Honestly, why they were even being held was far beyond what Bellatrix could understand. She enjoyed seeing others in pain, but she didn't think the school professors wanted that. Or maybe they did and Bellatrix needed to start making friends with them. Yeah, as if that would actually happen. Most of the teachers at the school weren't huge fans of hers. Even as a teenager, Bellatrix Black was sadistic and didn't really care much for anyone. Unless that person was pureblood. Even then, she didn't really care about them, she found them adequate enough to associate herself with them.

It was difficult to tell that Bellatrix wasn't fond of school dances by the way she was dressed. She came from the house of Black, it was a noble and pure blooded line and she was proud to be a part of it. So of course her dress was a bit on the expensive side and it definitely showed. Her hair was on top of her head, curly as ever with a few curly strands hanging around her face. Later in life, Bellatrix would decide not to bother with such things and would develop a habit of walking with an odd limp. Tonight, she carried herself down to the area the dance would take place with graceful, though sharp movements. No one accompanied her. Bellatrix didn't need a man to stand by her, nor did she particularly want one. With her head held high, she walked into the party and looked around.

As usual, there were only a select group of people that Bellatrix chose to associate herself with and they were all Slytherin. The other houses didn't understand the importance of having a pure bloodline. Even at Hogwarts Bellatrix had always realized the need to breed within your own social class. It was important to make sure that the magic stayed within magic families. She didn't see why some people thought that mating with muggles and muggleborns was something to be proud of. Indeed, Bellatrix never let herself be seen with someone who was less than half blood and even then she didn't admit to being friendly with them unless they all but disowned their muggle-related family. To say that Bellatrix Black was obsessed with blood purity would be a drastic understatement.

After scanning the room she noticed to boys. Severus Snape and Rodolphus Lestrange, the latter of which had a girl hanging off his arm. Miss Parkinson was pretty, to be sure, but Bellatrix thought she lacked any real defining trait. Bellatrix herself didn't exactly think herself beautiful by any means, but she also didn't think Ariana could hold a candle to her. Not that she was jealous of the girl for being with Rodolphus. Bellatrix had never felt strongly one way or the other toward Mr. Lestrange, however she did think that he could do a lot better than Parkinson. Miss Black made her way toward the small group, taking note that something had happened just before her arrival that seemed to have Severus in a bit of a pickle. “'Ello, boys.” She arched an eyebrow at Parkinson “and girl.” Her voice was bored. It was clear she thought very little of these social events.

ooc: click for dress

[Deleted]

THERE’S AN ARMY ON THE DANCEFLOOR
THERE’S EMPTINESS BEHIND THEIR EYES
AND DUST IN ALL THEIR HEARTS
SWALLOW ALL YOUR TEARS MY LOVE, PUT ON YOUR NEW FACE

[/I] [/center]

Rodolphus gave a heavy sigh at the sight of three figures charging their way over to his direction. Where the hell was Lucius when you needed him? Usually in these situations he could grab the other Slytherin and push him infront of the youths to deal with them while he made his escape. Perhaps he could just slip into the crowds and pretend he’d not seen them; no to late they were already halfway across the hall. If they were attempting to bug him with questions of revision at a ball, Slytherin or not he swore he’d hex them to the dungeons and back.

“Alright Lads.” He surveyed the three; ah the infamous third year Slytherin’s, he noted one was missing. Snape and his new found ‘friends’. Rodolphus couldn’t deny he was glad Snape had finally found himself some cohorts, lackeys, whatever they were – not for any sentimental reason but merely for the fact it meant he had to spend less of his time checking the black haired runt wasn’t strung up in a tree by his underwear somewhere. At first he’d gladly stepped in against those Gryffindor twits out of Slytherin loyalty, hell it was just embarrassing to have one of their own beaten on by anything other then a Slytherin. And a reason to attack a group of Gryffindor’s would never pass him by. But the Marauders had shown almost admirable persistence, he’d decided it was better for nature to take it’s course. He’d been rather impressed when one of the four had actually had the gall to come and not request, but proposition him to help. Since then watching Severus Snape’s back and torturing the pathetic lives of the four Gryffindor’s in ever more inventive fashions had become a regular past time.

Thankfully they wanted nothing to do with revision. He paid them only half his attention, his eyes busy scanning the rest of the ballroom as they quickly ditched pleasantries and went onto what they really wanted. McGonagall. Had it been anyone else Rodolphus would have told them where to shove it. But McGonagall was a special case. That woman had been the bane of his time at Hogwarts. This year especially it seemed she had taken to stalking him, sneaking into the restricted section now a nigh on impossible task, more nights then he would care spent in detention when his usual back chat had usually only ever led to house point deductions. Rodolphus had joked with his fellow Slytherin’s that she clearly had a crush, but beneath the bravado McGonagall’s new found suspicions and attempts to keep him under her surveillance were worrying. He'd happily agree to help them in their little prank, the idea of McGonagall with bright pink hair one he definitely felt needed to be seen before his time at Hogwarts was over.

From the corner of his eyes he watched Severus fill up a glass and take a large sip. Not deeming it necessary to interrupt him. Huh… maybe it wasn’t gin. Then the young Slytherin gained what Rodolphus fondly knew as ‘the face’, no that was gin alright. The smirk that started across his face was promptly ended as he gave a loud ‘ahh’, attempting to jump back from the fountaining third year to no avail. The look shot at the poor boy could have melted the polar icecaps. Had the culprit been any one other then a Slytherin they would have found themselves promptly levitated upside down with their head in the punch bowl, even most Slytherin’s would have received a harsh clip around the ear and been subjugated to slave for the evening.

Whatever he was planning for Severus (and it certainly didn’t look good from the look on his face) was interrupted as a hand landed on the elder boys arm. He turned to find Arianna looking at him with worry, though his eyes had already passed beyond her. His heart beat infuriatingly quickening at the sight of who had entered the room. Damn it. Most of his fellow Slytherin’s had guessed he was holding a torch for the eldest Black sister. Though his seduction technique was… questionable at best. He had never met someone who intrigued and irritated him so hugely in equal measure. He’d resorted to as Goyle had pointed out with worryingly out of character astuteness the five year old boy tactics of pulling a girls hair because they were pretty and it made him laugh.

Turning his attention back to Severus, the shot of anger quelled, he dried his robes with a simple spell, something the babbling third could no doubt have done. Snatching the younger man’s cup he refilled it with the spiked punch handing it back to the boy with a look that clearly read his unspoken intention of what for Rodolphus was a very light punishment indeed. Drink it. And heaven forbid if he spit it again.

“Bella.” He greeted with a lopsided smile as she gave her greetings, he didn’t notice Arianna’s hand tighten on his arm defensively. “Nice dress, did they tell you it was funeral?” His tones filled with dripping sarcasm as he shot the childish remark though he had to stop the inward groan. Damn that was weak It was a nice dress. He’d have to step up the game tonight. “The boys here were just telling me about their plan to prank McGonagall, weren’t you Severus?” He ensured he snapped his attention back to the third year, least the quivering stop and he think himself out of the woods. Well that was tonight's entertainment sorted if nothing else.

HOGWARTS, HALLOWEEN BALL, 1970’S,
TAG: SLYTHERIN’S OF THE ERA. WORDS: 920
NOTE: I decided i'm posting anyway! If the others join in I promise i'll obey the posting order ;-)

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[SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE]

Jul 4, 2012 12:20:35 GMT -5 SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE said:

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, border-left: #405142 4px solid; border-right: #405142 2px dashed; background: #161616; padding-top: 16px; padding-right: 16px; padding-left: 16px; padding-bottom: 12px; -moz-border-radius: 10px; width: 368px;] [/style][style=width: 400px; line-height: 30px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 40px; text-shadow: #505050 1px 0px 1px; color: #405142; letter-spacing: -4px; text-transform: lowercase; text-align: center;]-- Armies on the Dancefloor -- ---When It Chills To The Core --- Severus nearly died of heart failure when a familiar, if somewhat bored voice drifted over him. As though things were not traumatising enough, Bellatrix Lestrange had to show up to witness his mortification! The third year was certain Bellatrix probably couldn’t care less if he lived or died, and really, a sudden heart attack at thirteen wouldn’t be the worst way to go. It would certainly be less horrible then living through all of this, he was sure. The look on Rodolphus’ face was spelling out a much worse fate then a heart attack, after all. The older boy had done the logical thing of spelling his robes dry, and Severus was left standing pale and alarmed by the realization he had not only gotten the older boy wet, but had taken such leave of his senses he had not thought to do that for him. Yet it seemed the arrival of Bellatrix was a bit of a blessing, because Rodulphus seemed to become slightly less interested in murdering Severus as a result of it all. Sort of. There was a newly filled cup of nasty being held out at him and Severus knew what that meant, much to his considerable unhappiness. With a resolute expression befitting the greatest of martyrs, Severus accepted the gin-laced punch and downed it quickly in order to escape the taste as best he could. (A mistake, though he would figure that much out later on in the evening, to be sure) Once finished, he gave a grimace but kept his mouth clamped shut as he put the glass back on the table and stepped away from it, as though he thought it might try to bite him. Unfortunately for Severus, Lucas, Destin and Eric had apparently taken his spitting on Rodulphus as a sign to high-tail it elsewhere, which left the poor third year at a loss, and stuck between two of the scariest older Slytherins alive. ”Erm,” Severus began, ever so coherent at the moment, feeling somewhat dizzy from his foray with gin (Not that he realized that was the problem; he thought it was just his nerves) ”You look nice, Bellatrix,” He stated, having missed Rodolphus insult at it amid all his panic and discomfort. Feeling meek, Severus looked around for his friends, silently cursing them for dashing off on him. ”S-sorry again, Rodolphus,” Severus added, for good measure, then, ”Do...I don’t suppose you saw where the others went?” he asked, thinking maybe the taller boy could just look out over the crowd and see them no problem. words: 462 - short o.o notes: gonna post as lucas in here shortly tag: Slytherins of the era! template by eliza @ shadowplay

[amber2]

[atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=style,width: 450px; background-image: url(http://i1259.photobucket.com/albums/ii541/amberellamae/things/otherbackgroundthing.png); padding: 10px; border-radius: 60px,bTable][cs=2] 'cause i'd rather feel pain than nothing at all
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,border: 0px solid 525252;]	[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][rs=7][atrb=width,350px,true][atrb=height,400px,true][atrb=style, vertical-align: top;background-color: #554660; overflow: auto; padding: 10px; border-radius: 25px;] Dull, dull, dull. That's really all that was going through Bellatrix's mind. Miss Black wasn't a fan of anything that required socializing with lesser individuals. The look she gave the Snape boy might have melted a Hufflepuff or any first year for that matter. Obviously he was beneath her. Someone she didn't need to think about, someone she shouldn't concern herself with. His only redeeming quality was that he'd been sorted into her house. The only glare that might have been worse was the one that was given to the girl hanging on the arm of Rodolphus. He seemed to have settled. Or maybe he was just tired of chasing after her. It didn't matter much, really. The girl he was with wasn't fit to clean Bella's shoes even. Again, at least she was a Slytherin. Why some people chose to associate themselves with other houses, Bellatrix would never fully understand. The other houses were week. Most of them didn't understand the importance of blood purity as she did, even at an early age. It had been driven into her mind from the time she could understand words. This was what was important. An eyebrow arched at the third year's comment. She looked nice. That was probably the most boring comment she'd ever heard. It was true though, she at least did think she looked nice. “Right.” was her only reply to Severus Snape in a dry voice that clearly said she wasn't going to be thanking him in any way for his compliment. Mr. Lestrange's comment got a look from her. “It might as well be a funeral. It's deader than a cemetery. Besides, I'm in mourning. I've decided to give your sense of humor a proper send off.” A funeral for his sense of humor. That was actually one she hadn't used yet. Though, to be quiet honest, if there was one thing that Bellatrix liked about Rodolphus, it was the way in which he normally replied to people with some sort of sarcastic comment. And he seemed to have the same views as far as blood purity went. That worked in his favor, which was saying something. A thought crossed her mind to mess with Arianna later, if for no other reason than for entertainment. She had started to look around the room for some other source of entertainment when Rodolphus said something about Severus talking about pranking McGonagall. The third year seemed to have missed the comment because he asked if the older of the two had seen where some other people went. “You'd not like to enlighten me about your plan? I'm hurt.” Not really. And actually, Bellatrix doubted there was a plan, but putting the Snape kid in an awkward position was fun sometimes. It was certainly better than standing there with nothing to do.
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=cellSpacing,5,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style,background-color: 554660; border-radius: 10px;] WORDS: 474 TAG: slytherins NOTES: eek, short. sorry - - - - - CREDIT: I made this thing so don't steal please.

[LUCAS DONOVAN CAIN MULCIBER]

[atrb=border, 0, true][atrb=style, border-left: #405142 4px solid; border-right: #405142 2px dashed; background: #161616; padding-top: 16px; padding-right: 16px; padding-left: 16px; padding-bottom: 12px; -moz-border-radius: 10px; width: 368px;] [/style][style=font-family: century gothic; font-size: 10px; line-height: 10px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-align: justify; color: #707070;]Despite the fact the staff at Hogwarts staunchly professed that there was no place for blood supremacy within her grand halls, the school had a notorious habit for pandering to the pureblood society’s way of doing things. As a pureblood himself, Lucas had no taste for such hypocrisy in action and frequently found himself feeling contemptuous of the vast majority of people around him. It didn’t matter to him what anyone’s blood status was and frankly, he found the politics around the whole thing to not only be droll and tasteless, but rather ironic as well. Lucas had been taught to read by observing the genealogy and history of his family, which had of course lead to the families of Britain and their lines, followed ultimately by the scorn all Mulcibers seemed to hold for the British. It had been a marvel to him as a child, how his family could be so contemptuous of absolutely everyone, and still see fit to live in England. Truly, if the place was so rife with fools, liars and vagabonds, there was no true point to being there, considering how many options for relocation the family had. Lucas had learned, over his years at Hogwarts, the reasons why the Mulcibers stayed in England while also earning for himself a condescending nature toward the English wizarding society for his own reasons – most of which matched, ultimately, to the same ones felt by the rest of the clan. Now, as Lucas straightened his dress robes for the ball, he found himself reflecting on the hypocrisy Albus Dumbledore and Hogwarts propagated. Hogwarts was meant to welcome students of all blood statuses, and yet despite this, the school and its curriculum was very much designed for pure and halfblooded students who already had a concept of magic and how to behave in wizarding society. There were no courses in etiquette and social norms for Muggleborns and even half-bloods to attend, to help them assimilate better into the admittedly archaic ways of wizarding life. Meanwhile, the Muggle Studies course was an absolute joke as more often than not, it was taught by a witch or wizard so ingrained in wizarding society that they were only half right at best about the technologies and developments Muggles have produced. More disturbing still, for a school so determined to dissuade people of blood prejudice, was the fact there were no proper courses in how to behave in Muggle society. Indeed, the amount of witches and wizards who wandered into Muggle society dressed in robes, or horribly matched outfits was infuriatingly high if one took into account the Statute of Secrecy. To Lucas, it showed absolutely no respect for the Muggle way of life and how to blend among them; and many of those witches and wizards caught guilty of this very thing were harping on about equal rights for Muggleborns and halfbloods, when they themselves made absolutely no effort to be respectful toward the lives lead by those very students before they received their Hogwarts letter. No effort was made to teach them to become more like wizards – it was simply assumed that going to Hogwarts would teach them the social norms – and no efforts were made to learn to be like Muggles, because no matter what people spouted around this castle, there was simply no respect for their ways. Which was truly a pity, as these annual mandatory balls were nothing more than pureblood society sticking its nose into things at Hogwarts yet again. Lucas didn’t give a rats tail what excuses the professors used; he knew what these parties truly mirrored. For the pureblood students whose families followed the old ways, these parties prepared them for their engagements and political arrangements. Oh it wouldn’t seem as such now, but Lucas had been to enough coming out parties for little debutantes to know that these little ‘social experiments’ of the Headmasters had been good practice. Meanwhile, most of the halfblood and muggleborn populace would carry on oblivious to the undercurrents, unaware of the whispers and the plots among the older students who had come to utilize the mandatory party nights as was proper. It was, all in all, an entirely sickening situation that was perhaps far too thought out, but it was Lucas’ entire opinion on the matter. Slipping out after his three dorm mates, Lucas shook his head at their antics. Eric was simply too optimistic to see things the way Lucas did – despite having been a part of the pureblood society and having been forced to attend many of the same boring parties that took place outside of school under the watchful eyes of their managers as their keepers mingled among the adults. Generally speaking, Lucas went with the Swordmaster and his etiquette teacher, the latter of which kept an eye on him as the Swordmaster did the dances of politics, while Eric went with his mother and what was, as far as Lucas could tell, some sort of nursemaid. A stern matron, to be sure, though what her purpose truly was eluded Lucas entirely. Destin rarely attended any of those parties, as his parents were not the sort to play in the politics pool, so of course he only saw an opportunity for fun and frivolity, while Severus had absolutely no access to higher society and just saw a social gathering he’d rather avoid. Deep down, Lucas envied all three of them for their ability to just see a party, for good or for ill, as opposed to all the undercurrents and social stigmas hidden within it. Running a hand through his hair, Lucas chose to keep clear of his friends for now, not wanting to drag Destin and Eric down with his bad mood – they’d have a hard enough time keeping Severus in high spirits, after all. As a result, he was also clear of Rodolphus when Severus ended up with a bit too much in the spirits department. Pinching the bridge of his nose, it was all too easy for Lucas to imagine the stuttering idiocy Twitchy must be displaying right now. Shaking his head, Lucas gathered the sum total of his thirteen year old dignity and grabbed both Eric and Destin as they tried to sneak back around. Love Severus though they did, neither of them had any wish to be on Rodolphus’ notorious bad side; and knowing Eric, he probably thought Rodolphus wouldn’t hurt Severus anyway. ”The two of you can’t even hang about for Severus in his time of need, and you think you’re going to gag the Lion Tamer?” he drawled, looking away from eric’s shamed expression to Destin’s feigned innocence. ”Come on, you cads,” Lucas huffed, tugging his mates back toward Rodolphus and Severus irritably. Honestly, would that kid ever not need saving from something? As though to compound matters, Bellatrix Black had arrived on the scene and was making some comment or other about not being in on the plan. Severus looked as twitchy as ever the moment she mentioned being hurt, which was about as likely as a cat caring about how the dog died. With Eric and Destin in tow, Lucas gave Severus a despairing look before smiling up politely at Bellatrix. ”I believe my friends are plotting a prank on Professor McGonagall this evening. Something ignoble, I imagine,” he added with a look at Severus that seemed to indicate he could get his arse over to his age group any moment now. ”We didn’t mean to be a bother,” He added, pureblood mannerisms to the fore this evening as he turned and raised a brow at his other two friends rather pointedly, resulting in cheeky grins from Destin and Eric toward Bellatrix; they did mean to be a bother, just not to her, and their faces made that much very clear. Idiots. words: 1306 PB for Young!Lucas: Kevin Zegers Notes: Lucas to the rescue - sort of! Tag: Slytherins of the era! template by eliza @ shadowplay

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THERE’S AN ARMY ON THE DANCEFLOOR
THERE’S EMPTINESS BEHIND THEIR EYES
AND DUST IN ALL THEIR HEARTS
SWALLOW ALL YOUR TEARS MY LOVE, PUT ON YOUR NEW FACE

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Rodolphus was well aware of what these events truly were. Of what he as a respectable pureblood was meant to do. How he should be flittering around the room, all smiles and 'how do you dos' to those who might be of some importance or hold some power. He had been groomed for these type of events since his birth. And he was good at it. He could hold a room, could spot who would be of use and knew how to use just the right amount of flattery to befriend and ensnare while maintaining your own importance, mentioning that recent holiday or a new purchase discreetly in conversation to ensure one's wealth and standing was expressed. He hated it.

His mother was if anything a social climber. The type of woman who would gasp at a hideous dress or laugh at a horrendous joke if it meant she might get invited to a dinner party to increase her social standing. The Lestrange's had always played the political game, had always vied for power and perched themselves happily at the top of the social ladder and behind the ears of those in power. So his mother dragged her family to every swaray, hosted frequently to show off the impressive Lestrange manor and their vast wealth and sway, to proudly show off the two eligible sons she'd gifted to the pureblood cause. It would ever be expected that her husband and sons stood all smiles and happiness filled with 'mummy dearests' and 'darlings', the picture perfect happy family. What a crock of shit. Who would believe that the perfect Lestrange's who smiled and laughed went for months on end without a single word exchanged between them, ignored and avoided one another like lepers.

In the last year he'd given up on being the young Lestrange with a dashing smile and fine manners. Oh he intended to keep his reputation intact for now, there were those who would yet be of use to him, but he'd taken quite happily to finding ways to irk his parents and those who watched him closely. Drinking far more then the one glass of fine imported champagne, asking the awkward questions to those of polite society who kept so many pretty polished skeletons in their cupboards, vanishing for some time with a hostess or a business partners daughter. Games upon games. He'd learnt long ago by watching these parties that it was not money that controlled the power in pureblood society, anyone who was anyone had money, it was knowledge and the favours, the secrets that could be held with such knowledge.

But not tonight. Tonight was a party he'd chosen to actually try and be social at. Tonight he'd cause abit of havoc with the little third years, harass the old lion, spark some talk by dumping Arianna brutally in public view, drink abit of punch, maybe start a fight and perhaps if he was lucky he might get a dance with Bellatrix Black, if he was feeling particularly daring he might even kiss her. It was his last Hogwarts ball afterall, he'd have to leave the old hag McGonagall with some fireworks. As to the latter though he knew he may well chicken out as he had done at least once a week for the entire year. He hated that about the eldest Black sister. Hated that she could make him feel awkward, out of control like an overeager child. And the eldest Lestrange had done so well at ensuring to those around him at the tender age of 17 he was certainly not a child and had not been one for some time. Easy pronouncements when your crowd meant and saw nothing.

He shot Severus a dark sideways glare as the boy pipped up he thought Bellatrix looked nice. Seriously could that kid have any worse timing? It was like he was hand crafted to be a punch bag.
“No I didn't.” He answered the question without so much as scanning his eyes around the room. “Are we not pleasant enough company Severus? Stay and have another drink.” The previously glares were quite gone replaced with a butter couldn't melt smile, as if all was forgiven, the fact he was forcing the boy to stay instead of run off to his cowardly excuse for friends clearly showed he wasn't quite done with his source of entertainment for the evening.

Bellatrix' comment caught his attention back once more, a lazy lopsided smirk crossing his features. Touche. “It does seems to wither and die at the just the sight of your face.” He responded with all the bitchyness of a teenage girl. “But how sweet you'd miss it so much Trixy.” That earned him a glare that could kill from his date. The gangly teen latched firmly on her arm seemed not to notice. “It is dead in here.” He agreed, continuing with the conversation as if he hadn't just insulted her as he always did. His eyes scanned the room hoping to see Lucius with something or someone of interest. Instead he found the three third years, Lucas all but dragging his comrades back to Severus' rescue. The Mulciber's were a family so stuck up they made the Lestrange's look down to earth. Still Lucas had displayed a understanding of the game of favours garnered and kept, something that entertained the older Slytherin.

“Of course not.” He drawled as Lucas apologised for his cohorts and the two boys lit up with faces of sheer mischief. Like hell they didn't mean to be a bother. “Well ignoble or not, this place is dead and if it means taking McGonagall down a peg – I'm in.” The light protest from Arianna that couldn't they just have a dance instead went completely ignored. “What's the plan?” He questioned with a tone that clearly displayed he wasn't expecting any stroke of genius from the four third years.

HOGWARTS, HALLOWEEN BALL, 1970’S,
TAG: SLYTHERIN’S OF THE ERA. WORDS: 1004
NOTE: I think i'll go invite a McGonagall as we have one =)

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