The Old Defence Room

"Fine! Bombarda!" she pointed to the wall behind Evan and it cracked and crumbled a bit

He doesn't even flinch.

"Fuck, Penny, are you really this stupid? Pointin' your wand at a fuckin' wall doesn't prove anything. The damned wall ain't gonna fight back, and if you're gonna treat this like some big joke, well maybe you fuckin' deserve to get what's comin' to ya. Because I won't always be there to save your sorry, stupid arse."

she glared at him "I was trying to prove a point. i'm not stupid you know. I know stuff..." she broke off and stared at the floor. she felt like shit

He rolls his eyes.

"I'm not sayin' you don't, Pen, I'm sayin' that you gotta know how to use this shit, or there ain't no point knowin' it to begin with. You did alright, little sis. You can go if ya want - we won't do no more tonight."

she sighed. "you sure? you don't want to like, kill me or something?" she half joked and sent him a small grin

He smirked.

"Nah. I'll save that for the next time I catch you with that boyfriend," - he says the word like it's a worse thing than the filthiest Mudblood he's ever encountered - " of yours, doin' something to piss me off. Now get outta here before I change my mind."

she laughed "catch you later bro" she walked out quickly, holding one of her bruises, before Evan changed his mind

"Seeya, little sis."

He watches her go, mulling over the side she'd shown of herself and thinking that there was hope for her yet. She'd be ok. He leaves.

Gellert enters the room, and perches on a desk, glad to have somewhere where he could be away from the Slytherins, and he looks around, a greedy, almost lustful glint in his icy eyes as he absorbs the pictures on the wall -- Dementor's Kiss, Crucio, the list went on.

[CUE BARTY(:]

[LOOK AT ME, ALL LATE. I'M CUTE]

After using Crucio for the first time on Flint, Barty had a new aura around him. The successful casting of the spell had given him more confidence in his abilities, not that it had ever been demonstrably lacking. He opened the door, a quiet creaking sound disrupting the peaceful silence that had kept him within in his thoughts. It was an old room, by the looks of the dust covered desks and the cobwebs appearing in every corner. His hand clutched the base of his nonsexual wand, nervousness creeping down his spine. He tilted his head when he noticed another, but certainly not dimwitted, Slytherin sitting in the room. His grip loosened and his tongue flicked, moistening his lips and giving him the comfort he needed, "You there," he said, not recognizing the lad right away, "Don't think I've seen you before..." His tongue slid along the smooth texture of his teeth, before it once again hid in his mouth, "I'm Barty."

Gellert watched, vaguely interested, as another boy entered the room, and let out a small sigh of impatience - all he really wanted was to be alone, something, he realized, that he loved about Durmstrang. He felt an odd tug in his stomach, remembering the place - a twisted sort of guilt, connection, that he felt. The boy, who introduced himself as Barty, was smug, held his head high, seemed to have an awfully high self esteem, because Gellert should be the one talking. He shook his hair out of his eyes. "Cool," he said, lazily, then realized that that probably would not suffice. "Gellert."

Honestly, saying cool probably would have been sufficient. There was something about Gellert that made Barty tense and he couldn't place a finger on what it could possibly be. He shrugged and slowly walked over to another part of the room, unsure of how to continue this silly conversation. His gaze lingered on the Dementor's Kiss, something pulling at his insides as he stared at it. He did not know what this feeling was, but it disappeared when he tore his eyes away from the portrait. Silently, he moved around the room and stared at the others, but he was drawn to only one. Crucio. His lips twitched in anticipation as he stared, in awe, at the realistic image the portrait displayed. He felt the strongest urge to reach out his hand and let his fingertips glide along the facial expressions distorted from the anguish they were feeling, but he resisted. He closed his eyes. Another tongue flick. Uncontrollable. He smeared his right hand over his face, shivering in the old, chilly room, "Your disinterest amuses me." He mumbled, loud enough for Gellert to hear, even if he hadn't intended to utter the words aloud.

He pulled his loving gaze from the picture of the witch huddled at the bottom of her frame, eyes cold, skin pale - and focused instead on, what was it again? Barty. Gellert scrutinized him. He kept flicking his tongue -- "Trying to catch a fly?" he asked with raised eyebrows, his voice dry and cynical. He smirked a little at the other boy's expression at the Crucio - there was fear, there was guilt, there was wonder, yes, he looked like a small boy who had successfully nicked a handful of Bertie Bott's, and then come back to the kitchen only to find that the bucket had been put on a shelf too high to reach. He shivered, his hand covered his face. "Yes, you look extremely amused," Gellert told him, his tone dripping with sarcasm at Barty's obvious discomfort. "What, feeling guilty about something?"

It was difficult for him not to laugh at the mention of feeling guilt, but he refrained. He shoved his hands into the warmth of his pockets, trying to understand what could potentially be this guy's problem. Barty had done nothing wrong. Nothing wrong at all. He removed one hand from the safety of his jean pocket, smoothing it over one of the desks, layered with ages of dust. His lips curled back into a near snarl at the mention of his tongue flicking, wondering why people always chose to acknowledge that quirk above all others. He didn't mind the teasing and, instead, grinned at the lad. He looked familiar - even though he wasn't, "I do not use my tongue to catch flies. There are better things that I can waste its time on. What I do with my tongue is none of your business, isn't it?" His eyes darkened and he turned back around to look at the pictures. There was no need to explain himself to this character. He had everything he had ever needed and wanted....except that one thing that could never be fixed. Replaced. Changed. His eyelids fluttered shut for a moment and he sighed, "I refuse to pick at someone's body movements and I highly suggest that you do the same." His hand landed on a book with yellowing pages and he wiped the cover clean of dust. It wasn't anything worth his time; something he had already learned. He tossed it aside and leaned back against the desk, "Yes, I am amused. Why not go to your dormitory for solitude?"

Gellert smirked at Barty's defensiveness, and he got up off the desk he was sitting on, leaning up against the wall next to him instead. "On the contrary, what you do with your tongue could certainly be my business. For instance, the way that you're looking at me, it seems almost as if you are tempted to come over here and shove it down my throat, or perhaps I'm just so used to that look that I'm misreading you." He raised his eyebrows, surveying the other man - his dark hair, his smug look, the way that he threw the book -- "Books aren't worth your time?" he asked, his eyes landing on it, it looked intriguing, and he made a mental note to take it back to his dormitory to read later on, "and I merely sought to have some silence, though of course your company is...welcome. Enough with your accusations, it seems as if we're both here, so what brings you here rather than to your dormitory?"

"Oh, you've caught me. That's exactly why I let my tongue slip from my mouth, just because I imagine making out with you." Barty stared at him, resisting the childish urge to roll his eyes. This man seemed somewhat arrogant with the way he walked and talked, but Barty had met enough people like him to feel comfortable in this situation. He merely sighed, his eyes following where he had tossed the book aside, "Books that contain material I already have learned countless times before are not necessary to take back to my dormitory. They can lay here for someone else who may need its knowledge." His tongue grazed along his lower lip once more as he brought his gaze back to Gellert. He stared at him for a moment, curious, "My dormitory contains people who may or may not agree with the same things that I do..." His voice faded when he looked back over at the Crucio, a smirk appearing, "You know. You look like someone who would have fucked an old friend of mine, Regulus Black. I haven't seen him since he started associating himself with one of the Gryffindors. Krum's his name. Guess you must not be as good as the ol' Bulgarian Seeker? Couldn't pleasure Reg enough, could you?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Oh, is there a certain type of person who looks like they might have fucked Reg Black? Funny- I believe that there are two types of people in this world: those who label people and those who don't. I fall into the second category, but you, evidently, cannot say the same. If I were, then, to categorize you, I suppose I would call you the pretentious wannabe bad boy, although I'm sure we would have to get to know each other better if we really wanted to figure that out." He eyed Barty with distaste, "You seem, though, not to be altogether respectful- towards me, at least- and I'll tell you something, buddy, I'm not sure that's wise. See- I'm everything it seems you want to be, and if you don't watch out, you may never get a chance," Gellert looked him up and down, running a hand through his hair, "to follow my example."

Molly is sitting in here, at a desk, with her books spread out around her. She's trying to get some homework done because she's been so distracted by conflicting thoughts lately that she hasn't finished her Charms essay. Oops.

Viktor walks in looking sexually frustrated. "Oh. Hey Molly," he said, looking happier as he spots the Prewett.

Molly looks up and, upon spotting Viktor, slams her book shut because she doesn't want to worry about that stupid essay anyway. She smiles, but it's not quite her usual bubbly grin. "Oh, hey Viktor! How are you?"

"I'm okay," he said with a shrug. "I finally talked to Regulus," he said with a small smile because even though he had cute krack for a good minute, Regulus is still a bitch.

"Oh, you did?" Molly says, perking up even though she kind of feels jealous. She doesn't know that Viktor's boyfriend is still a bitch, after all. "Like, how did that go?"

"Eh. Not so great. He vos still pretty pissed off at me," he said sadly. "And he's punishing me too," he adds grumpily.

Molly frowns. "Well, that's.... what? What do you mean, he's punishing you? Aren't you guys meant to, like, love each other?"

Viktor shrugged. "Vell, the idea of no sex until who knows ven sounds like punishment to me," he mumbled.