Daphne. (cruciatus) wrote in riddikulus,
@ 2008-02-01 03:01:00

WHO; Malcolm Baddock && Daphne Greengrass
WHEN; sometime after midnight.
WHERE; the Slytherin common room.
SUMMARY; Plotting.
RATING; PG13.
WARNINGS; language later on, most likely.
STATUS; In progress.

The words had begun to run together. Turning the page with an unpleasant look on her face, Daphne bit her lip, and took a glance outside only to see the rain splatter against the window. With a shiver she looked around the dorm, noticing that the only one that didn’t seem fully asleep was Millicent. Daphne shuddered at the thought of being asleep and threw one of her favourite blankets over her shoulders and then reached for her wand for good measure. As much as Daphne would roll her eyes and exhale loudly whenever Baddock would appear, she hated the fact that a small smile appeared on her face as she lit her wand and made her way to the common room.

It was only as she saw the faint glow of the common room that she realised she was still in her sleepwear. It wasn’t revealing but just the fact that she could count on Baddock to say something ridiculous about it made her frown once more. She didn’t even know why she was asking him to keep with the plan. She had Theodore offering to help her and she was going to the ball with him. Daphne sat down on one of the more comfortable chairs as she pulled her blanket closer to her and shook her hair so it was in her face slightly. It was nice to feel wanted, whether it was from Theodore or Baddock, or anyone. Daphne normally didn’t care much for attention from those of the opposite sex; she’d had more pressing issues to deal with. She’d gotten outrageously happy when Theodore had asked her to the Ball. In a way she’d always liked him in that manner, though she would never admit that to anyone. She smiled once more and thought about how the night would be memorable whether she was able to enact her plan or not. This year seemed to be turning out well, at least.

Daphne made a mental note to send an owl to her father in the morning. He’d been pestering her to mail him more often, and once a month wasn’t asking terribly much, though thinking about it would put her in a foul mood again. Instead Daphne curled up on the chair, slightly nodding off. Her bed seemed more welcoming now that she wasn’t in it.

Where was he, anyway? She couldn’t have been that early to meet him. The nerve.

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baddock
2008-02-02 12:30 am UTC (link)

For a guy, Malcolm had never had a problem admitting his feelings. Granted, he would never do so out loud, but admitting them to himself had to count for something, at least. At the moment, he would readily admit that he was quite looking forward to meeting with Daphne. He had no idea what she would ask of him, but since he was already in the topic of honesty, he could also admit that he didn’t really care – it was Daphne Greengrass, after all, and she certainly never planned anything short of fun.

After Malcolm had agreed to meet Daphne in the common room at midnight, he had made a point to change out of the school robes he had been wearing all day for something more comfortable and, well, cleaner. He wasn’t one to usually worry about petty things such as looking presentable, but need he remind you that he had a date with Daphne Greengrass? Okay, maybe not a date, but a guy could certainly dream. He had put on a pair of clean trousers, stolen a shirt from Charlie and taken the first set of robes on top of the pile the house elves had left there that morning; they were a tad big on him and he reckoned they were probably Noah’s, but he wasn’t about to worry about that – if his clock was right, he had exactly five minutes to meet Daphne. Malcolm gave himself a once over before walking out of the room as quietly as possible. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to wake up and start shooting off questions he had no time to answer. He closed the door behind him just as quietly, before walking down the staircase as casually as he could manage without seeming too eager.

The sight of Daphne curled up on a chair, already waiting for him made him pause at the bottom of the staircase, his upper lip curling in a mild smirk as he noticed her huddling under a blanket. It was only a few seconds before he was moving again, though, not wanting her to catch him just standing there and staring. “Well, you’re early,” Malcolm gave as a greeting, one eyebrow cocked in surprise, “I reckon you couldn’t wait to see me?” He had half a mind on taking the seat right next to her, the thought of how Daphne might react to that already seeming amusing. It wasn’t that Malcolm had a death wish, as much as it seemed, he just really enjoyed getting a rise out of Daphne and lately, that had become his favourite hobby. It also wasn’t helping that for all the talk she did, he had yet to see his insides tearing out of his stomach as she had constantly threatened would happen. But even if he thought she was pure talk (sometimes, anyway), he still knew there were some boundaries and he also knew better than to push too hard until she completely snapped – he enjoyed the threats; dying? Not so much.

In the end, Malcolm decided to settle for the couch in front of her, throwing himself unceremoniously on top of it and turning so he was lying down instead of sitting, his back propped up on of the arms of the couch. He made a show of finding the most comfortable position as he looked her over, taking in her messy hair and the scowl that seemed to be permanently etched on her face. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he noticed she was clad in her pyjamas and he, involuntarily, smiled at the sight. “If I had known we were having a slumber party, I would’ve put on something more comfortable and brought some pumpkin pasties,” he said in mock disappointment, sitting up again to shrug off his robes and hanging them over the back of the couch. “Guess that’ll have to do.”

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