Title: A different common room
Summary: Regulus and co get Barty drunk in the Slytherin Common Room.
Characters/Pairings: Barty Crouch Jr, Regulus Black
Genre: Gen
Rating/Warnings: PG for drinking
Word Count: 886
He hated it. That initial creep through his legs and into his spine, it was a poison that had lulled him into apathy and then contentment. He should have stopped then - when Regulus' face was a little blurry, and everything was so warm. By the time it had reached his own face, flushing his cheeks and making his eyelids lazy, he'd forgotten about stopping. Colourful drinks were pressed into his hands, vibrant shades that did not belong to nature. It was the first time he'd felt at peace in their chatter, and he could forget about the low ceilings of the Slytherin common room. He could ignore the grinning skulls that adorned the walls, and the intensity that somehow made the room feel full even when it contained only himself and Regulus.
The final drink that did it was a green concoction. It tasted of spices and somehow sweet. He sipped it until a laughing dark haired girl jilted his arm upwards, tipping the whole glass down his throat.
"You're supposed to take it in one," Regulus' smiling lips said, at once too close and yet Barty's ears strained for the words.
Barty smiled back, though it seemed and unduly complex movement that made his elbow twitch. Suddenly he felt lazy, but uncomfortable in his seat. In the seated part of the Slytherin common room the floors were covered with thick, soft throws. Barty pressed his socked feet into the pale fur rug beneath them. Would it be so bad if he just sank to the floor, and pressed his face into the fur? The Slytherins would probably laugh, but Barty doubted they'd care. As he considered it, it seemed a little too much effort. He let his head drop back against the chair.
"Alright there Barty?" The upside down features of the girl made a pouty, red smile at him.
"Iss therrra bed?" he asked, trying to bring her into focus.
"Keen isn't he?" she laughed, threading her fingers through his hair. Barty tried to shake his head, but that seemed like too much effort. He sighed as her painted fingernails brushed against his scalp. They were supposed to be discussing Barty going to a special gathering, but somehow the conversation had slipped away from them.
"Not yet, Barty," Regulus said beside him, his voice lilting with amusement. Barty moved his head to the side to better look at him. There was no way he'd have been allowed into the Slytherin common room without Regulus pressed by his side, and yet the things he'd heard and discussed here had been the most illuminating. The world of Regulus and those like him was so different, so alluring. They had grand ideals and they knew a little of the plans that would achieve them.
Regulus smiled at him, a smile that made the world expand and contract with meaning and validity of Barty's existence. He knew that some of the other Slytherins thought he was an oddity, and he'd heard the snide remarks about his house, his family, his blood. A shame for them that they'd been cut down at every turn; they'd seen what he could do now, they knew he was as pure as them. But Barty didn't really care about boastfulness, or to take credit for anything about himself. It was this safety, these convictions that pleased him and it was all bound to this older boy.
"Hey Barty," someone called from across the common room, a girl sat by the fire. "Do you think you can work out the recepie for this potion?" As a deterrent to troublemaking and endangering themselves, the more advanced books that contained exceptionally dark magic usually only described the results of potions, rather than their ingrediants and making. She folded the corner of the page and tossed it towards him into the fur carpet.
Barty picked it up and opened it to the right spot, "Of course - you'll be looking for highly acidic ingrediants, though it wouldn't be a very subtle potion. The drinker would know as soon as it touched the inside of his mouth. The simplest way would be to make it mild, and put it into a bar of soap or something similar." There was another movement at his hair and Barty turned his head to find Regulus toying at the ends of it, his head lolling forward against Barty's shoulder.
"You can't keep saying this stuff, Barty," Regulus' breath was warm against his ear, "not everyone here is...family."
Barty turned his head away a little. That was always his problem - he never attached 'why are they asking' to the end of a question. A question ought to be answered with knowledge, and if Barty knew then he felt compelled to share it.
"I should go back to the c-"
"Maybe you should," Regulus cut in, sitting up in his chair and looking towards the fire. Barty got up and stood beside his seat for a moment, staring at Regulus. He had promised him things; that one day they'd both be marked, they'd both make a difference in the world. They'd set things right together! He stumbled slightly at the edge of the rug and made his way across the common room.
He didn't feel any eyes on him as he left.
Title: The Puppy
Summary: Draco has wanted his own dog for a long time, Lucius finally gives in.
Characters/Pairings:
Genre: Gen/fluff
Rating/Warnings: G
Word Count: 99
Challenge #54
It had gone on for almost a year. It wasn't in Lucius to deny his son much. A dog though, was a rather larger commitment.
Eventually his doubts subsided under the persistent whining. He knew Draco's fascination would last all of two minutes.
Two minutes after the puppy arrived Draco was indeed avoiding it; though it was to retreat to his room, sniffling and sneezing. Lucius couldn't help a twitch of smugness as the puppy pressed against his leg, and Narcissa (who a day before had been kissing his cheek for finally succuming) gave him a reproachful look.
Sam//Slytherin