helpless_mark (helpless_mark) wrote in intothepastrpg,
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What: Getting to know one another

Who: Malcolm Parkinson and Narcissa Black

When:

Where: History corridor

Rating: um...R for language and sexual induendo

 

Narcissa held up her compact as she sat - alone mind you - in the middle of the History corridor examing her hair. She did NOT look like Pollyanna with her braids (who the hell was Pollyanna?), nor was she a blow job with handles (she had taken 30 points from the cheeky little Ravenclaw who had said that). Sighing and finally satisfied, she jammed the mirror back in her purse and fiddled with her wand, hoping some delinquent would just come down the hallway so she could hex them.
 
Malcolm threw on his dark cloak, covering his bare chest.  It still seemed to be too hot at hogwarts, nothing like his old school.  He was in search for Ivy, planing on tormenting her, basically fucking with her mind again.  Lips played a small smirk as he passed the classrooms.  Finding himself in the history corridor.  His strides were quick, but graceful nonetheless.  He barely noticed Narcissa as walked quickly through the hallway.
 
Narcissa, happy that the monotone had been broken by the delinquent striding through flicked her wand at his feet, where the froze to the floor. Putting her cloak on her bag and climbing to her feet, Cissa twirled her wand threateningly in her hand as she went up to the student. "Malcolm Parkinson. What are we doing out of bed at this hour?" Her bright eyes narrowed. She didn't like Malcolm, mostly due to the fact that Ivy didn't seem to like him all that much and what were best friends for?
 
Malcolm cussed as his feet where frozen, his arms flailing comically as he tried to keep from falling backwards.  He failed, meeting her question while sitting on his bottom.  "Pleasure to see you too, love."  Staring up at her with a smirk, he rested his weight on his hands.  "I'm off to find Ivy, she's in pain from that bloke, Regulus.  You know of her...situation."
 
Raising an eyebrow, she sneered at him. "Of course your off to find Ivy. What she needs now is time to herself, not your male, chauvinistic fuckwittage." flicking her wand, she unglued his feet from the floor. "Students aren't allowed to be out of bed and don't call me love."
 
With a sigh Malcolm stood up, dusting his bottom with sharp slaps.  "I hope you are going to clean this.  Without magic, I might add.  It makes the fabric coarse."  Turning to face her, he tilted his head and crossed his arms.  "Fuckwittage? You do have some clever words.  Ivy, needs someone to make her forget her problems, being held by me helps her.  I thought you were her friend."  Eyes narrowed, staring intensely into her eyes, almost as if sizing her up.  "Surely you know how often she cries for him? hm. Interesting."  His tongue darted outward, wetting his lips, completely ignoring her comment about the curfew.
 
Cissa rolled her eyes and looked at him. "I've known Ivy much longer than you have. We are best friends and its bad enough her parents want her to marry someone like you. I saw her only a little while before I started patrol and she was getting ready to go to sleep, so I think you can wait until tomorrow to see her." He really was very annoying, looking at her like he could take her. She was a Black, she was better than him. "Are you waiting for something or are you going to go back to the common room?"
 
A soft chuckle escaped his lips.  His eyes darted down, perhaps looking at the floor.  Actually letting his eyes gaze at her small frame.  "I've known Ivy for years.  It's been two since we've actually seen each other.  I know what she needs."  Quickly he looked back into her face, still smiling, as if he didn't care what punishments she might bestow on him.  "Perhaps we can get to know each other tonight?  I wouldn't want to wake poor Ivy, and I'm restless."  He looked around. "where were you hiding?  We can talk there."
 
Biting her tongue to keep from yelling at him about his presumptions, she indicated her pile of books and cloak. "I wasn't hiding, I was sitting. I patrol this corridor against delinquents like you." Turning away from him suddenly, she looked down at her feet where Mrs. Norris had come slinking by. Giving a hiss and making a move to kick her, she sent the cat scurrying away. "And I know all about you already."
 
"oh?" he looked genually surprised, just how much did she know about him.  "Do tell, love."  He smiled walking over to her books.  Sitting close by them, his fingers played with the cover of one.  "I hate that cat." He hissed more to himself then to her. 
 
Ignoring the comment, she slammed her foot down on his hand. "I know that you're a sadistic bastard. That you're a psychotic, unbalanced fool who thinks he's the big man on campus. Oh and you really have no dress sense at all and you're hair? Its really, much too long to look presentable anymore. Your father is a poor businessman and your mother? I don't think we'll go into that." She had heard what her uncle and father said about the Parkinsons (and also about the Wilkinson's, but that was beside the point). The family was strange, no doubt about it, but Malcolm was the oddest person she had met.
 
Malcolm sucked his bruised knuckles, a small glare at Narcissa.  "A poor businessman?" He shook his head, truth was he hated his father and didn't mind the insults.  His mother...he would rather not talk about her anyway.  Swallowing hard, he looked up to her.  "Sadistic bastard?  Psychotic. 
 
Now where are you getting this information from?  You're sources lie, I do not have a violent bone in my body." He grinned, eyes with a small twinkle.  "I hardly think i'm the big man on campus, half the school hates  me." A graceful shrug and his hands was in his lap, looking at her as if she hadn't insulted him at all.
 
Cissa put a hand to her mouth, eyes going wide in mock sympathetic shock. "Oh, don't' tell me you haven't heard? Why, that's practically what everyone says... pretty much what Ivy said once." Smiling broadly, in what she hoped was a very fake, friendly way, Cissa shot some bright green sparks at Mrs Norris, who was slinking back.
 
Malcolm put his hand to his chest a pained look on his face.  Clearly mimicking her sarcasm.  "You wound me, my love.  Very deep.  I'm curious to know what Ivy has told you?  I do not think I'm 'sadistic' as you all apparently say."  He used his fingers to quote the word.  Couldn't help but smile as Mrs. Norms was being abused by Narcissa. 
 
"I don't have to tell you anything that happened during a private conversation." Damn Cat.
 
Rolling his eyes he began playing with her books again.  "All right, let's talk about what you.  What Ivy thinks of her best friend."  He gave her a smile, as if saying: I know something you don't know. 
 
Cissa smirked. "Oh, that I screwed a Gryffindor and turned my back on my family for half the summer. That I'm a disgrace to Slytherin and purebloods? Nothing I really haven't heard before."
 
Malcolm couldn't help but laugh loudly.  Holding his stomach.  He took a loud gasp of air and sighed.  "Narcissa.  I thought you were smarter then this." Laughing again he shifted his weight, sitting Indian style.  "You just gave up all that information that I had no clue on.  Who was the Gryffindor?"  He raised a brow.  "I thought you would have better taste then to mess with those mudblood lovers."
 
Mentally slapping herself, she briefly wondered why she should care. Its not like the whole world didn't know already. And it was over and down with. "None of your concern really. You would've of heard about it sooner or later if you just asked someone in Slytherin. Lucius probably would've gloated about breaking us up," She muttered off on a few unintelligible things for a moment, before folding her hands expectantly. "So, anything new that I don't know about?"
 
Small gray eyes drifted as if in thought.  He ignored her question, cocking his head to the side.  "You are betrothed to Lucius.  Why aren't you with him now?  He's a handsome fellow." Chuckling he picked up her book, flipping the pages.  "Lucius hasn't spoken a word of breaking anyone up, or at least not when I was around."  Crinkling his nose he lifted the book. "What is this rubbish?"
 
Glaring in what was, she hope a controlled manner, Cissa grabbed the book from his hands. "Pride and Prejudice. The words might be much too large for you. And just because I'm 'betrothed' to him doesn't mean I have to be with him. I don't really like him that much."
 
A small pout spilled on his lips as the book was taken away.  "I think it would be wise to start your relationship with him now.  You are going to get married and should know his...er...habbits." He smiled sweetly.  "Are you upset?  your nose is flaring up a bit."
 
"Mmm, when he decides that he wants to date me/fuck me/whatever it is you have in mind, he can let me know. I'm not going to waste my time trying to start something with someone who doesn't. But since you are, like you said, so wise, maybe you should talk to him about it." She was not going to throw the book at him. Nope. She had control. Inner poise. Yes.
 
He grinned.  "Now that I have permission, maybe I shall speak with Lucius.  What should I tell him?  You want to fuck him until his eyes roll to the back of his head?" Laughing he now touched her cloak.  Pressing his fingers in the fabric, bringing it up to his nose.  Inhaling her scent.  He put the cloak down, as if uninterested in it, in her scent.  "Is that what you want?  A good fuck?  In your journal you specifically said that any male who tried to, would be castrated and eaten by animals in  the forbidden Forrest.  A boy can get confused."  Innocently he raised his hands, fingers spread with a smile.
 
What a bastard. "No, I don't want to get laid, thank you very much. I was only saying that if he wanted to start anything with me, then he can make the first move. That's all. You, on the other hand, seem to be heading in that castration direction." She made a note to go down to the kitchens and have the houseleves clean her robes. He was touching them rather suggestively.
 
Malcolm chuckled.  Her threat making him laugh.  "So I shouldn't say that you want to fuck him?"  Watching her with an amused look on his face.  Ivy was beautiful when she cried, but, Narcissa was beautiful when she was angry.  "No more talk of fucking.  I can see that gryffindor wasn't any good.  You still haven't told me exactly who it was."  Biting his lower lip he caressed her cloak, nothing else to keep his hands away from his wand.
 
"Get your fucking hands off my cloak and I won't have to break your fingers. Gods." She kicked his leg and bent down to grab her things from him. She was used to annoying people. James had been annoying, Reggie was always annoying, Lucius was always very annoying, but that was completely different. "Mine, not yours. And you know, I don't care what you tell Malfoy. He's your friend, not mine. And Ask anyone, they'll tell you wich Gryff it was. Is everyone in Durmstrang as strange and annoying as you?
 
Rubbing his leg he narrowed his eyes.  Looking at her with a glare.  "No.  Not as strange as me.  I'm one of a kind." Seeming to think about it, he rubbed his nose with one finger.  "Remus. It was him, wasn't it?  That's a strange one I  should say.  Always sick.  I wouldn't touch him if I had to."  He stood up brushing his cloak.  The floors seemed dirty tonight. "You are strange yourself.  So violent, yet you take no pleasure in it." he bit his lower lip, drifting in thought, as if he was not all there.
 
"MMm, no. Lupin is dating the mudblood. And maybe I just don't want to be some S and M psycho like you?" Grrrr.
 
"S and M?"  Those words weren't new to him.  Of course he was into that type of thing calling James Potter a perfect bottom.  James...he thought.  A look of disgust on his face.  "James Potter?  No wonder why you're so uptight.  I bet he humped you like a dog and left you without satisfaction."  It must be frustrating not being able to insult one like Malcolm.
 
Chuckling lightly, she  looked at her nails. "Good shag, really. Quite fulfilling, thank you for your concern." Would he just... leave. Leaving would be good. That way she could go get her cloak washed. "Have you trying to hit on me or something? Cause its truly not working."
 
"oh, no." He shook his head furiously, his hair whipping his face. "You're much too bitter.  Besides, your scent is Lilac.  Disgusting, I hope it's a perfume you wear.  You do need a better fuck.  Someone with enough foreplay to get you screaming.  You know...well, actually I think you don't."  He crossed his arms, watching her.  Odd way to describe her.  Truth was, he would have her if he could.  Wasn't so sure she was worth the effort though.
 
"Its not lilac, you idiot. It's Vanilla." Gods, why was she still arguing with him? Nothing would be accomplished from it. Messing absently with the end of her left braid. Her initial opinions of him were affirmed. He was an annoying, sick bastard and didn't look like he'd be changing in the near future. "And what don't I know?" You don't know what I need or what I don't."
 
Stepping close to her, he let his hands hover above her shoulders.  Staring at the flesh of her neck.  "I know what a woman enjoys." His fingers lifted slightly, giving her a feather touch on the crook of her neck.  Caressing that sensitive spot that usually sends shivers down one's spine.  He smiled, something filled with sex and amusement.  Pulling his hand back he took another step closer to her.  Standing close, yet far enough so he wouldn't touch her.  "You don't know how it feels to be with an experienced lover, one that can make you truly satisfied." He whispered the last, his mouth hovering above hers.  As quickly as he was near her he pulled away.  "Vanilla is just as bad as Lilac."
 
Tilting her head back, she stared at him heavily, taking a step closer to him, eyes half closed and her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "Vanilla is better, you know. I've never been..." She smiled suddenly as she smacked him as hard as she could, quickly kneeing him as he was stunned. "So amused in all my life. What exactly are you playing at? I may be blonde, but I'm certainly not a trollop. Go to Delacour for that." For saftey's sake, she took a few steps back. Choice people would be hearing of this, that was certain.
 
After the long throb of pain subsided he laughed.  Standing up, while wiping away a bit of blood from corner of his lips.  "I told you, I do not want you.  You're scent sickens me, love."  Straightening up, he didn't move closer, but looked at her with a piercing glare.  As if trying to remember this moment.  He didn't like being abused without his permission.  "Too bitter remember?"  Smiling he took a step forward, making her jump slightly.  Laughing again he spat on the floor, he must have had a large cut on his lips.  "So violent.  Tell me the truth, did you enjoy that touch?  Honestly, how did it feel?"
 
 Calmly, she met his mildly interested look with one of indifferent nature. "Oh yes, it made me tingly all over and all hot and bothered. Just want to throw myself at you." Wrinkling her nose then in distaste, she leaned forward in a conpriring manner. "Really, you have dry, slighly greasy hands and an odd smell about you. Might wnat to look into that."
 
He shook his head "No, my hands aren't greasy, smooth to the touch.  A nice cream I picked up in France." Staring at his hands as he spoke those few words.  "My smell isn't old at all, it's the smell of leather and strawberries.  Must you always get things wrong?"  A knowing smile was given.  "The touch, made you hold your breath and your heart beat faster.  The vein in your neck was enough evidence on that part."  He walked passed her, brushing his shoulder against hers, staring at her all the while.
 
Shuddering in repulsion,  she turned around to face him. "You assume oh so much. Like I said before, you aren't big man on campus. You're french cream leaves a greasy residue. duìbùqî, I believe it is? And I don't go around smelling people, but you smell like muggle cigarettes. And when you touched me, I was angry. Thought you got that when I smacked you." She really was tired of people assuming things like they seem to around her. She got enough of it from annoying seventh year blonde boys. "Anything else you want to sound pretentious about?"
 
"you're bitter because you want Lucius, yet he goes after Maddie.  Is that pretentious? or the truth?" He grinned pacing slightly.  "Muggle cigarettes is another guilty pleasure of mine.  Smoked a few before you caught me.  I'll give you that."  He smiled again.  "I thought the smack was foreplay."  He joked shaking his head.  "I'm much to tired to play this game with you.  I have already figured out, that it doesn't take much to make you angry."

Chuckling, Cissa kicked her books over to the wall. "I am not bitter because I want Lucius. You're being pretentious. He's a big boy, he can do what he wants. I'm going to marry him, aren't I? Then I already have him." Taking her wand out of her pocket, she twirled it lazily. "Now, if you would get back to the common room, I won't have to give you detention with Filch. No matter how much you like McG, Filch is evil and would hang you by the toes from the ceiling if he were allowed and no, it won't be a kinky sex game."

There. Done. She could continue on with Pride and Prejudice and conduct her letter the Uncle Cepheus... maybe grab Lucius tomorrow at lunch or something and tell him to keep his little friends away from her. 
 
He gave a pout, holding his hands up in surrender.  More not wanting to finish his game with her.  Pressing her buttons, he pushed the one next to last.  Knowing it would only take a matter of seconds before she used her wand on him.  How much did she know?  He's fresh out of Durmstrang, mastering in the dark arts.  Figuring he would rather not find out he took a step back.  "We shall finish this conversation soon enough, love."  He walked backwards watching her and her wand.  "There is still more I would like to know about you.  I bet you have a few questions for me." He smiled letting his hands fall to his side.  "It's a pleasure making new friends." He bowed to her and walked off.  
 
Scowling, she plopped back donw on the ground. "Male, chavinsitic fuckwittage." And she opened up her book to where she had left off. Oh, Daddy and Uncle would certainly hear about this.
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