cribellate | SERAPHIM DIAS

Well, we can always make it a bigger challenge, can't we?

[She leans back in her chair.]

Catch me in the act, and I'll let you have a hand in it.

[That's a riddle, or a real offer on her virtue.]

If you think you can stomach touching me.

'Catch you in the act'.

[Those are the words that he's really interested in, right now, and those are the words that he chooses to repeat. He gives her another once over, like he's considering both that phrasing and the thought of touching her. It's an interesting bit of consideration, if the look on his face is any indication.]

What exactly am I catching you in the act of, let's be quite clear here.

[That's when she just smiles, the kind of smile that says more than it doesn't.]

We're not going to destroy my reputation, are we?

[That smile is more than intriguing. Which is probably what she has in mind, honestly, and he's partly aware of that--but that doesn't mean he's going to be any less into this. There's always a part of him that's a bit removed, and he likes it that way.]

We'll do something with it, at least. I don't know about destroy.

[Her habits - the secret ones, the voyeuristic ones, they're not on display. But this is possibly one of the few boys in the entire school who might be willing to play this game, this game of hide and seek and catch, or at least play the game of playing the game.]

Well, it's probably what you think, Black. It's probably almost exactly what you're thinking now.

[But if she doesn't say it, if she doesn't say it explicitly, then she can deny it later, can't she? She can pretend, no, it's not true.

In any case, her reputation is spotless. No boy has ever managed to get her attention, certainly never for more than minutes at a time.]

Are you interested in playing that game?

[There are a lot of things that he's thinking right now, he might tell her. There are a lot of possibilities here that are of a keen interest to him, for all that she's a muggle-born. You can mess around with muggle-borns, just don't get attached, or actually interested. That's one of the games you have to play.

The rest of the game is more enjoyable, and he cocks his head, giving her a once-over before he slips his gaze up to her face, with a smirk.]

Oh, I'm very interested.

[She looks at him, over the table, and thinks for a second that it's not really fair that he's still such a tremendous knob.]

Then you had better get good at the hunt.

[And a pause]

And you're not allowed to set anything up. I'll know.

You've clearly underestimated who you're dealing with, if you really think I'll need to cheat at this.

[He tips his chair back on the rear two legs once more, arching his eyebrows at her again.]

Shall we call it a day for today, then? And I'll find you... later.

Well, I'm still a Ravenclaw. I like everything to be very clear from the get go.

[She lifts her bag, and gives him a nod]

Then I'll see you around, Black.

[No actual schoolwork done, no actual punishment served, and a promise like the one he's got, even out of a muggle-born: this was a fairly successful evening, all things considered, and the satisfaction of that doesn't wear off.

Over the next two days, Sirius looks for Sera, idly--not with any real effort. She wasn't exactly clear on when she was going to start their game--better sooner than later--but he's not about to jump on it before she begins it, lest he seem too eager.

(But he is, admittedly, eager. The nature of the game is one that he can appreciate, the pursuit--and when he does find her, the game won't stop being interesting, he's sure of that.)]

[She wasn't lying when she said that she doesn't sleep. It's insomnia at it's worst, and the worst hours are from two to five in the morning, when even the most delinquent students are abed. But it's the hours before then that are the most interesting, when people are sneaking from place to place to find a private corner for interhouse romance or just trouble.

When she says she's not always easy to catch, she means it. She doesn't have an invisibility cloak, but she is small enough to hide almost anywhere, and quick enough to get from place to place. Tonight she's behind a tapestry, tucked up in an old, boarded up windowsill so that even her feet aren't visible, and she's watching two six years - she can't tell who they are, or their house, whisper sweet nothings to each other. She can't quite hear them, but she can hear the footsteps coming down the hall, and so can they.

There's freezing all around, as if freezing will keep them from being seen.]

[He greets the couple with a wolf-whistle as he comes around the corner, leans against the wall with his arms folded.]

Evening.

[And he grins, and the girl--sixth year, Slytherin, youngest Mulciber daughter, it's all information that comes to mind quickly--her face colour even in the dark of the corner.

I don't sleep, Sera had said. So the best place to look for her is after hours, in places he wouldn't expect her to be. Ravenclaws and the library are a match made in heaven, but that would be too easy, too obvious--and she's sneakier than other Ravenclaws. There's an edge to her. But that doesn't mean he can't have a bit of fun as he's looking.]

Shouldn't you be-- elsewhere?

[It's none of your business, Mulciber tells him, her face still pink, and she seizes her boyfriend by the hand and goes to drag him off.]

A Hufflepuff? Where's your taste?

[Fuck off, Black, she informs him, sharply, as they scramble to push past him, the lucky (unlucky?) Hufflepuff straightening out his rumbled jumper as they go. Sirius grins.]

At least try Ravenclaw--at least they're good for a laugh--

[Fuck off! Mulciber repeats, heatedly, throwing him a glare. The Ravenclaw comment wasn't even for her benefit, it's just that Sirius has had a certain Ravenclaw in mind, lately--but he laughs all the same.]

[She freezes when she hears his voice, then carefully sets her feet on the ground, and crouches low, to peer just underneath, one hand curled towards her body, the other flat on the ground. From where she was she had a view of the girl - Mulciber, now she knows who it is, which makes the bits and snatches she overheard even more interesting - but not of Black, where did he come from?

She knows the tapestry probably moves, just a bit, and she wonders if Black is observant enough to catch the movement. She's not sure if she wants him to or not. Mulciber and - Stone, that's the boy's name, he's some sixth year, Seraphim doesn't know him but she knows about him - are stomping off so loudly they'll get caught further down the hall for sure.]

[Mulciber and her Hufflepuff boy are already halfway down the corridor, but Sirius hangs back in this dark bit. They're going to be discovered for sure, and he's not about to get caught up with them.

He sticks his hands in his pockets, fumbling for his lighter--and then, there, he just catches the motion of that tapestry. If he suspects that it's Sera--well, maybe some small bit of him suspects. But it could be anyone, or knowing Hogwarts, anything, right?

Still....]

Hey.

[She lifts the bottom of the tapestry with one hand and looks up at him. He's already taller than her, this is quite an advantage.]

You spoiled the show.

[But she's smiling a bit, working her way out from under. She's wearing a blouse and a skirt but no tie and no robes, and no shoes.]

[His suspicions were correct: it's her, and he grins, proud of himself (as inadvertent a discovery as this was).]

I know Mulciber. Wouldn't have been much of a show.

[And, he adds, with a smirk now:] Hullo. One point for me.

Better than anything I've seen in the past few days, everyone is so focused on exams lately.

[She stands up, wipes the hand that was curled up to her chest off on her skirt.]

Hullo, Black. Point for you. What were you doing, I wonder, wandering the halls without a prefect's badge?

I could show you better.

[It's something of an idle promise, but the way he says it makes it less than idle, far more loaded with suggestiveness. So is his grin, as he cocks his head at her.]

I wonder what I was doing though, hm. Certainly couldn't have been looking for anyone.

Could you?

[She moves forward a bit, and grips his wrist. There's wetness on her fingers, it's almost a challenge, to see if he'll react, if he's all talk, or if he'll do something beyond pull away.]

Maybe a Ravenclaw? Loads better than Hufflepuffs, we actually have personalities. Well.

Some of us.

[Oh, he notices. When she grabs his wrist, he notices, and then he makes that connection, and looks up at her face, searching it closely, with a sharp little grin. She wasn't.

No, she was. He twists his hand so he's got her wrist instead, tugging her hand up a bit.]

Some of you do. I've seen that firsthand. Very unexpected personalities.

[He ducks his head a little, grinning, and--her hand is really close, so it's nothing, to just--lick at the top of her fingers, right at her fingertips, with a grin.]

I like the unexpected.

[She tilts her head up, defiant, her eyes darkening a bit when he licks her fingers. The hall is quiet and dark but there's enough light to see each other, and she can see the contours of his smile, that dangerous look.]

Maybe you have a cleaner mind than I do, if you weren't expecting that.

[She's thinking fast, trying to decide if she's going to make this easy for him or hard for him, if she's going to make him work for it.

She's trying to decide exactly what it is she wants.]

What would the rest of your house say, to see my fingers on your tongue?

Why are you thinking about the rest of my house?

[It's a kiss for two of her fingers this time--middle, and index--a lingering kiss with a little more tongue, and then he follows along her index finger, nipping lightly at it--presses a kiss down in the curve, where thumb and finger meet, lingers there, too--]

And how can I make you stop thinking about them?

That is the question, isn't it?

[She lets him kiss her hand, lets him have that.]

Did you really catch me, though?

[Ah, make your case, Black, because she's curling her hands up, her smile is turning wicked and thorny-]

[There's something in her tone that suggests that he has to act, now--something in whatever he can see of her smile, half lost in shadows--but he can act, he can, and he lets her hand go so he can take hold of her hips, so he can step in close to her, pushing her up against the wall, against that tapestry that she was just hiding behind.]

I think I have.

[He's leaning into her, insistently, grinning down at her. Pinning her to the wall--not cruelly, but holding her there.]

I'll grant you a taste from my fingers, but I think you'll have to wait until you find me in the act, I think those were the words, before I give you more than that, don't you?

[She knows he'll disagree, but this is part of the game too, the catch, the pull and push. But she's pinned to the wall and she's not squirming away, not yet.]

I'd hate for this to be too easy.

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