Drabble # 4!
In case anyone's wondering, I'm picking the order to write these drabbles in an utterly arbitrary manner. (Basically, I get an idea, I write it.) And of course the offer is still open for anyone who wants to make a request.
***
For dragonsangel68:
Sloppy Seconds
The warbling, sing-song voice echoed through the corridor, and Narcissa sighed, smoothed her hair and headed towards the offender. She had thought tonight would be easy to patrol, but of course one of her House-mates would have to chose today to get smashed and make a ruckus in the hallway.
She turned the corner and was greeted with the sight of Lucius Malfoy, hair wildly askew and clothes rumpled. He grinned at her, bloodshot eyes unguarded for once as he offered her a flask. “Drink?”
“No,” Narcissa said as sternly as she could manage. Lucius was normally so together, so much so she thought he simply put too much effort into his demeanor, that it was all she could do not to laugh at his current state.
“You look like you need one,” he said. “You’re verra stiff. Like there’s something shoved up your bum.” He gave her an appraising look. “Or is it you need something sho--”
“You need to get to your dormitory or else I’ll be forced to get the Head of House,” Narcissa interrupted.
“Oh, don’t be like that, sweet,” Lucius said. “I’ve just had my balls handed to me by that she-devil of a sister of yours, it would break my heart if another lovely Black girl was so cruel to me.”
“I don’t want to know what you were doing with Bellatrix,” Narcissa said, studiously ignoring the off-kilter way his shirt was buttoned. “But I’m hardly going to be less cruel, as you put it, just because my sister got to you first.”
“I’m wounded,” Lucius said, stumbling as he tried to step away from the wall and letting out something Narcissa decided was definitely a giggle. She worked even harder to keep a straight face, and began mentally preparing what she would say to him over breakfast (or lunch, considering his condition).
He grinned at her again, and tugged at her hair. “You’re much prettier than your sister, you know. And nicer. You’d never get me half-naked and raring to go, then leave me high and dry. You know,” he said, looking suddenly less jovial and a bit more murderous, “that bitch was laughing about it.”
Narcissa sighed and started to lead Lucius towards the Slytherin common room. She didn’t feel like dealing with administrative procedures that she would have to go through if she turned him in, and besides, her sister seemed to have already punished Lucius enough. She couldn’t stop herself asking, “Why did you try anything with Bellatrix? I thought everyone knew how close she and Rodolphus are.”
“Who would want a Lestrange when a Malfoy was offering?” Lucius said, his normal arrogance somewhat dimmed by his slurred voice.
He twisted his fingers even deeper into her hair, and Narcissa batted them away, belatedly realizing that she hadn’t yet objected. Don’t even think it, she told herself firmly. Not for a second. Bellatrix has already sunk her claws into this one...
“Here we are,” she said, a bit louder than necessary, as if that would suddenly stop Lucius Malfoy from being a real person in her mind, rather than a brash caricature of aristocracy.
“Home!” he said, and let out another little giggle.
***
For dragonsangel68:
Sloppy Seconds
The warbling, sing-song voice echoed through the corridor, and Narcissa sighed, smoothed her hair and headed towards the offender. She had thought tonight would be easy to patrol, but of course one of her House-mates would have to chose today to get smashed and make a ruckus in the hallway.
She turned the corner and was greeted with the sight of Lucius Malfoy, hair wildly askew and clothes rumpled. He grinned at her, bloodshot eyes unguarded for once as he offered her a flask. “Drink?”
“No,” Narcissa said as sternly as she could manage. Lucius was normally so together, so much so she thought he simply put too much effort into his demeanor, that it was all she could do not to laugh at his current state.
“You look like you need one,” he said. “You’re verra stiff. Like there’s something shoved up your bum.” He gave her an appraising look. “Or is it you need something sho--”
“You need to get to your dormitory or else I’ll be forced to get the Head of House,” Narcissa interrupted.
“Oh, don’t be like that, sweet,” Lucius said. “I’ve just had my balls handed to me by that she-devil of a sister of yours, it would break my heart if another lovely Black girl was so cruel to me.”
“I don’t want to know what you were doing with Bellatrix,” Narcissa said, studiously ignoring the off-kilter way his shirt was buttoned. “But I’m hardly going to be less cruel, as you put it, just because my sister got to you first.”
“I’m wounded,” Lucius said, stumbling as he tried to step away from the wall and letting out something Narcissa decided was definitely a giggle. She worked even harder to keep a straight face, and began mentally preparing what she would say to him over breakfast (or lunch, considering his condition).
He grinned at her again, and tugged at her hair. “You’re much prettier than your sister, you know. And nicer. You’d never get me half-naked and raring to go, then leave me high and dry. You know,” he said, looking suddenly less jovial and a bit more murderous, “that bitch was laughing about it.”
Narcissa sighed and started to lead Lucius towards the Slytherin common room. She didn’t feel like dealing with administrative procedures that she would have to go through if she turned him in, and besides, her sister seemed to have already punished Lucius enough. She couldn’t stop herself asking, “Why did you try anything with Bellatrix? I thought everyone knew how close she and Rodolphus are.”
“Who would want a Lestrange when a Malfoy was offering?” Lucius said, his normal arrogance somewhat dimmed by his slurred voice.
He twisted his fingers even deeper into her hair, and Narcissa batted them away, belatedly realizing that she hadn’t yet objected. Don’t even think it, she told herself firmly. Not for a second. Bellatrix has already sunk her claws into this one...
“Here we are,” she said, a bit louder than necessary, as if that would suddenly stop Lucius Malfoy from being a real person in her mind, rather than a brash caricature of aristocracy.
“Home!” he said, and let out another little giggle.