these `h a r d` times [open]

[lucius abraxas malfoy]

^{losing my breath in waves
knowing that every crash is feeding the hourglass
and taking the stride, from all our lives}
[/i]

He’d been down all these paths before, repeatedly even. Over and over again he felt the overwhelming sensation of emptiness, a paradox that has been held at his chest cavity for a good few solid days – a sensation intensified by the void activity since the opening feast. And yet, here he was, treading these paths again, for reasons unclear to him. He was expectant, but unsure of what to expect. Maybe he presumed too much assuming that things would adhere to his wants and that Fate alternates to gratify the whim of it’s pawns; and to think he thought he had all the right cards in his hands at this beginning of this year, but now it seems no different from his before. And so – he was searching, perhaps for a King, Queen, or Jack – but one could suppose he was just looking for a wild card to twist things into something akin to diverting, as it should be.

Climbing up the third story staircase, up and away from the sacred ground of his dorm and into the open area of the school, he didn’t slow to look back, in fact, he seemed determined – and yet unsure what he was determined about – or even why, but conviction read clearly on his face. His brows were knitted just faintly, the muscles about his mouth tense, though his actual lips were placid and smoothed out flawlessly. It was only his eyes that seemed to give any sway, seeing as his body and composure was generally apprehensive. His pewter gray irises swayed and swiveled all about, gathering all information on his surroundings; it wasn’t so much of superior abilities surpassing the wizard norm as it was a heightened sense of things. All the remnants of life could be sensed, any half-witted bloke could tell you this. The familiar scent of a girl’s perfume, or the trace of her step, even one strand of hair could be some sign of existence. Though, the most he has come to notice on this floor was the almost harsh bleakness of the sky, though it’s usually golden light was shielded by dense clouds, it still had a penetrating effect to his eyes as they became vulnerable from such concentrated staring out into the gray nothingness.

Nothingness – that was the word of the day, wasn’t it? Not only was there a vague, lifelessness enshrouding his every step, but his current state of emotion could read nothing else but ‘nothing’. How that was possible, he couldn’t quite discern, but he was numbed and though still agitated, he couldn’t pinpoint his restlessness so easily. But even if he was a walking hollow encasement, Lucius ascended more steps, apparently observant and yet appearing to be unaware of the world circulating around him, not that anything spectacular was going on from what he could see.

‘Before he knew it’ wasn’t a useable phrase in this situation. He knew perfectly well that he had managed to reach the fifth floor with ease and swiftness that he had his long legs and good memory to thank. What was to ponder was whether or not he would dare to climb higher towards the sky-piercing towers or if he would stay along this floor, or even yet – go back the way he came. All were options that weighed on him heavily and thoughtfully, despite how seemingly simple a query. Perhaps he didn’t want to go up there anyways. Seriously, the daily snog-fest was sure to be held at the Astronomy Tower – as always, Lucius despised practically every Gryffindor, and the Ravenclaws … well, Ravenclaws didn't always like or appreciate Lucius's know-it-all mannerisms that rivaled their smarminess, matched by his holier-than-thou aura (like anyone liked the quiet snobbiness). So why doesn’t he just go back? He really had no purpose essentially. He would merely be treading the frequently walked path of obnoxious Gryffindors and haughty Ravenclaws - it would be like he was instigating a fight (which was something did only with the right inspiration).

So now he was more or less tied on the fifth floor, partially in indecisiveness and partly because he didn't want to amble on back to the dungeons just yet. If he were to climb up further, there would only be oppressive gits and goofs, book snobs and nerds, but what did he have awaiting for him back at the common room? Conversation, oh yes. Humdrum conversation about whatever sparked the interest of the gossips. Completing his own school work was no particular chore, and studying was not a word in Lucius's dictionary. This was his seventh year, where was all the fireworks, jeering classmates, liberation even? Perhaps Lucius had relied too heavily on the feeling of finally graduating, but thus far it has proven to be nothing but the same as every other year. Poor Lucius, he thrived on conflict and chaos just as much as he did oxygen - having nothing to do was similar to the feeling of suffocation.

Was he to rely on himself to create the topsy turvey atmosphere? To be honest, there were few things that were fun when one was by themselves. Well, that's what Lucius gets for being himself, making and keeping friends has never been his forte. Perhaps if he just lingered for a while, a plan of action would dawn upon him. Perhaps he could drone through the rest of this year just as he was now and stop longing for something better (that's not going to happen). Maybe, just maybe, people have gotten more interesting now that they were near adulthood. While that would be a wondrous thought, one could not instigate maturity on anyone easily, so he might have to bear the drudgery of 'who purposely spilled pumpkin juice on whom' and 'who stole what's-her-face boyfriend'.

He needed a serious revamp, something to make up for the potential horribleness of his final year. Perhaps he could stroll outside and enjoy the crispy leaves before they were covered by the powdery snow of winter; or maybe sleuth about in hopes of overhearing something worthy of his ear; concoct some experiments with his collective amount of potions ingredients (with partial thanks to Slughorn's stores ). Though really, the basic fact of the matter was that it wasn't as fun unless there were people around to be impressed by his endeavors - maybe even present just for conversation filler .. or insight. Strolling past the empty wall where the Room of Requirement lied behind, he situated his body inside one of the many identical window sills that looked out over the courtyard, grounds, and beyond. Lucius's foot, which was covered by a perfectly polished, leather-bound school shoe, dangled just above the floor as he swung his leg idly, his messenger-style satchel on the floor beside him. And no, he wasn't 'lonely' - merely bored, and extremely cynical of young society today.

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[regulus arcturus black]

What day was it again? Today, that was the day. Days of the week didn't figure highly in Reggie's mind. It was one day after the next and they were all very similar in his opinion, except when he didn't do something he did the day before. Or something like that. He wasn't too fond of thinking at this early hour of, whatever hour of today it happened to be. It could half past three and that would be too early for the Youngest Black. Not that he didn't hate being called that. Being refered to as the 'Youngest' Black gave an impression that there was going to be an older of the two or three, and anything to not be related to the 'Oldest' Black was a good idea.

He stretched his arms, fingers intertwined, palms to the sky. It was grey and mildly miserable. Oh and cold. Very cold. Even he, who had a very odd circulation, was wearing a jumper and a coat. He dropped his arms, replacing his hands in his coat pocket, the tails around his ankles. Long coats, they kept you warmer. He had three of the nine buttons done up, leaving the collar and the base open. The wind caught up in the tails, flicking the fabric out behind him as he walked. Well, more strolled. He wasn't in a hurry to be anywhere. He was supposed to be meeting Kathryn in Hogsmeade, but was deciding not to. He wasn't in the mood for one of her lectures of blood purity and crap like that. It seemed to be her one and only subject. Instead he was avoiding the little village like it was riddled with plague. He really wasn't in the mood. He had just been in there, but there were just too many people. So, he'd turned on his heel and walked in the other direction. He was good at that.

The path up to Hogsmeade from school gates was rather empty. Occasionally a student would saunter passed with a bag of something edible or something prankable. Whatever it was, they didn't interest Reggie much. The wind gusted around his frame, and even he had to admit it was getting slightly chilly. He kept his hands in his pockets, keeping them warm within the coat's covering. His black hair was whipped up by the wind, it didn't change how it usually looked, though. Deep brown eyes caught movement just up ahead of him, but he didn't look over to it. It would just be another student. Oh, he was phycic. It was another student! One he didn't care about. He yawned, one hand in front of his mouth. He walked through the gates, making his way passed the darkness of the forest. Oh good, dark forest, very creepy. Yeah right, there was nothing in there really. He wandered passed, coming up to the steps, which he took two at a time. He paused in the Entance Hall. Left or right? Left lead down to the dungeons, right the stairs...Left.

The dungeons were cold, but not damp. The walls were all grey, different shades of grey ranging over the bleak walls. The bottoms were darkest, grit and grime clinging to each surface. The tops were a paler grey, the origional colour of the stone. A metal bracket in the wall held a flickering torch. The fire burned, but there wasn't any source to it that you could see. Surrounded by magic and such, it was just a burning flame. The shadows flickered dully on the walls darkening until it reached another torchless flame ten feet down the corridor. There was a dull cracking and click as the flames spat and bit, casting their dark shadows. Atmosphere accomplished, his shadow spread out from his feet, moving up and down the wall as the flame moved. He blocked the light at different angles. The dark and the bleakness didn't bother him, have you seen his house lately. It was dark and it was creepier than this by miles. At least the Hogwarts dungeons didn't have his mother. It was a definite upside. Regulus stopped under the glow of one of the flames, the owl on his shoulder ruffling his feathers against the heat.

He took out his wand, leaning against the cold stone. Pyromaniacy was something he was very talented at. Anyone could be as long as they liked to watch things burn. He certainly did. He let the flames lick up from his wand tip, blossoming out before fading again. Green flames, blue flames, whatever colour he could be bothered to make. Purple flames were a bit dull. White was okay and his favourite had to be the dark mossy green colour. Sending another jet of flames towards the opposite wall was a vast improvement. The flames left the wall scorched black except for the centre which was left clean as if someone had been at it with a scrubbing brush. He lounged back against the brickwork, carelessly flicking the flames in the vague direction of the walls and brackets. Every now and then the flame would change colour for his amusement value, but it wasn't the most amazing and brilliant thing he'd done to date. He'd once tried to burn down the whomping willow, only to be smacked in the knees by one of the branches. That had hurt.

Footsteps echoed down the corridore. He looked up, brown eyes sweeping over the dark corridor. Without really thinking about it he set off another blue fireball. Wrong thing to do. A bright light was suddenly shone in his eyes, he squinted, sheilding his eyes with the back of his hand. Damn, brilliant. "What the hell do you think you were doing?" Filch's helper. One that was much creepier than he was, he was perfectly alright with cursing a student for having muddy feet. Setting fire to things was not high on his list. Reggie grinned, ducked behind the next bend in the corridor and broke into a run. There was a chorus of furious yelling. Oops...He sprinted up the stairs, dodging students. He hadn't taken off his coat yet and it was doing its job of looking a bit like a cloak. He sprinted across the length of the Entrance Hall, taking the stairs. He didn't really care where they happened to be heading at that point. The staircases continually moved and he just let them, taking the steps three at a time, getting stares all the time. On the fifth floor he paused, looking over the banisters. He reajusted his collar and looked down through the moving staircases. He become aware of a figure behind and to the right of him. Okay, that was wierd. He turned, raising his eyebrows. Lucius Malfoy, didn't usually see him alone, did you? Reggie walked up the last two steps and gave Lucius a slightly manic grin. He came everyone a slightly manic grin, always did. "You look enthusiastic about life." He commented cheerfully. Blunt was one word to describe Reggie.

[lucius abraxas malfoy]

^{losing my breath in waves
knowing that every crash is feeding the hourglass
and taking the stride, from all our lives}
[/i]

The rush of cold infiltrating the back of his scalp was quite sobering, a dose of what he needed - logic. The sheet of lumpy, piled stones on either side of him kept the prospect of cold constantly threatening his body - the dismal sky outside not helping. It would be one thing if it were raining, at least then there would be reason for the moisture and potential muck. But no, it was sticky outside and not a drop wanted to fall on the Hogwarts grounds today. After nearly eighteen years of having Abraxas Malfoy as his father, Lucius has stilled managed to have imaginative intuition instilled in him. Lucius has been told his whole life what he was going to do and he had no qualms in following those dictations. It was everything leading up to and adding to that very solid walk of life. There had to be more to his seventh year than N.E.W.T.s and impending graduation. Then again, Lucius had this sore pessisism for most every event of his life. His first year was unspectacular in which he spent most of his time counting down until he got his prefect badge. And then once he got that he was quickly disheartened and desired the overwhelming sensation of graduating. And here he was, forlorn, just as he was so many times before. Was it because things really didn’t meet up to his expectations, or that he always wanted what was just out of reach?

That was his problem. He couldn’t easily just sit back and feel merry about the small things in life, he was too self-absorbed to notice anything more than his own ambitions and fanatical desires half the time, the other half he was enjoying the simple things as controlled in his own mental zone, meaning that outside intrusions (meaning people or things he did not like) were not permissible. Jumping from one quick fix to the next wasn’t exactly the most healthy way to live, but Lucius Malfoy was certain that he’d never be happy with mediocrity. Perhaps after he graduated and left this congregation of adolescents behind, things would be different. The radical anti-muggle group was steadily growing (just as the group that opposes those ideals). Lucius deemed it necessary to become something grand or extreme in his time after Hogwarts; renowned and all that fun stuff. Yes, things will be more interesting once school is over, so says the little amount of optimism Lucius has stored in his core.

As for the conflict of what to do right now - this moment, in fact - he will probably draw some plan, or at worst, continue ambling around until something struck him. As for broadening his social options to include people he found obnoxious in large doses - that was not happening. Nor was he going to scout around for a new friend or such related nonsense, he didn’t need friends, he just needed something to do that didn’t involve school work. Just his luck (Luck was obnoxiously often on Lucius’s side), something tore his train of thought. Regulus Black personified everything Lucius lacked at this moment - and Reggie did not hold back in saying so (through verbal irony, no less). Perhaps things shall perk up - if anything, Lucius would have a good laugh watching Regulus run from whatever his current dilemma was. “Don’t I just?” Lucius drawled as he as he forced his head away from the stone so that he was sitting somewhat straighter. "I'd say the same about you," Lucius then added observantly as he looked directly towards Regulus, who seemed to emanate expelled energy as if he had partaken in a fierce game of 'tag'. "What are you up to now?" He asked curiously, peering around for some clue of the instigator of Reggie's energy. Lucius couldn't imagine what inside Hogwarts could rile someone up - Peeves, maybe.

[/size][/color]

[regulus arcturus black]

“Don’t I just?”

Reggie grinned. He was almost permenantly happy, he could never bother to be otherwise. He found i took more effort to be miserable than not miserable, and he was just a bit lazy. If you put more effort into being miserable than just letting nature take its course, you were just stupid. Conserve your energy for something worthwhile, like running away from irate caretakers that now had to scrub ash off a dungeon wall. Well, it wasn't his fault he was a pyromaniac and liked to see things burn. At least he didn't go in for burning people, that would just be stupid, wouldn't it. He was an optimist by nature, letting things go as they come. If you let things rule your life then it wasn't really your life, and that was something he was incredibly opposed to. Especially with the family that he happened to belong to. That was just annoying, his family that was. Creepy in most ways, he didn't quite think his family was wrong, just over the top in many, many departments. Well, you couldn't blame a lad for having his own opinion.

"I'd say the same about you,"

Reggie raised his eyebrows. "I think that's a compliment." He started, pondering. "But, if it isn't, I'm taking it as one anyway." He shrugged. He turned his head over the banisters looking down through the moving staircases. Now, he couldn't see Filch anywhere, or his bloody assisstant, which was always a good thing. He didn't really want to be given a detention that he was never going to go to or attend because he knew that nothing would be done about it. Anything he did was just catalogued and left like that, teachers knew by now that they couldn't make him do anything that he didn't want to do, and that was quite a lot of things in practise. He was always cheerful around fellow Slytherins, and any other house for that matter. It was good for Slytherins, but other houses found it just wierd. He was given a lot of lee-way because of his last name, but still when someone offers you a pumpkin pasty with a welcoming smile, usually don't take it. He'd sent enough people to the hospital wing for that trick. They just never seemed to learn, maybe he was just welcoming and trustworthy looking...Yeah right, they were just dumb! Made everything much more fun.

"What are you up to now?"

Reggie was looking over the banisters at that point, just checking out to see if he was going to have to set off a fireball on anyone. Have to wasn't really the right word to use. He'd probably do it anyway just because he could. He did most things on the priniciple of 'because he could'. Wallowing in misery was for those who had too much time on their hands and really should go and get themselves a good honest hobby. Just as long as they didn't take his. He looked over his shoulder at Lucius. "Well, what I wasn't doing what trying to blow a hole in a dungeon wall." He said with sincerity, but still with that slightly mad smile he prided himself on. "And I'm waiting to trip up a caretaker." He turned his head, watching one of the staircases below grinde into place. Well, he didn't have to wait long. He took his wand out of his pocket and muttered something incomprehensible under his breath. The stream of silver flames flickered down through the storeys, exploding on the step in front of the caretaker. He yelled out, jumping back, tripping and falling flat on his face on the stone floor. Reggie laughed softly, shaking his head. "Anyway, what are you doing up here, on your own? Been ditched?" He asked, turning his back on the stairs and leaning on the banisters with his elbows.

[lucius abraxas malfoy]

^{losing my breath in waves
knowing that every crash is feeding the hourglass
and taking the stride, from all our lives}
[/i]

Well in retrospect, the least that could happen is a very delectable show starring Reggie Black as the main heathen running from the law. The comical pitfalls were sure to ensue and Lucius would have a good long laugh as he toddled on to watch the cat and mouse chase from afar. When and if it all turns sour for Regulus, Lucius would be gone swifter and more mysteriously than a ghost, as he would never dare get caught up in such wanton displays of rebelliousness. He was rather enjoying himself being the quiet spectator for once, rather than the cynical instigator of mostly verbal conflict or as a promising jester for a worthy audience. When all was said and done, Lucius would be sure to applaud Regulus (most likely in a figurative way, rather than literally) for his - ahem - acts - which very much included pretty sparkles and grouchy blokes; the only way it could have been better is if there were more people to watch with them. Lucius’s countering comment about enthusiasm was not sarcastic at all, but an actual observation, and he hopefully cleared any potential misconception Regulus had with a simple, polite statement, “As you should,” before sitting up more straightly on his seat on the sill to better view Regulus’s shenanigans.

Regulus really was on fire; between the couple Lucius was actually the more humble and invert, which was not usual for the young Malfoy in a social situation at all. Having been caught off-guard in a state of - dare one conceive it - thinking of all dim and unexciting things (who would guess that Lucius spent time to do that between the merriment at the Slytherin table and his underhanded comments in the classroom). This was the same bloke that pirated the sofas of the common room to set up his own forts created from linens and pillows (which were also, undoubtedly pilfered), as well as the man who ruffled the feathers of every person who didn’t already have a thick skin to his outspoken and debonair ways. With how he carried on, it seemed like he couldn’t even contain his mischief and desire for conflict. And yet, that same man that acts in that wreck-loose way also thinks, it’s true, though truth to say he usually didn’t do such a thing in public. Something was clearly wrong with him, yet it couldn’t be so simply fixed by waving his wand around or gallivanting about Hogwarts - how dismal. Being on the brink of adulthood sucked - being in the hazy space between prospectus youth and esteemed adult was considerably worse.

Lucius looked on, watching the flood of silver dip down and out of his line of sight in a fascinatingly glittery manner. Lucius then stood (satisfying his boyish interests) as he walked over and then peered down over the railing to watch the ending aggravation of the caretaker's rough and tumble. There was always something sickeningly entrancing of watching other people's pain, though admittedly Lucius was stronger on inflicting emotional damage, rather than strictly physical. Looking to Reggie with a bemused expression, he quite exaggeratedly scoffed at his counterpart who was now next to him, and then tut-tutted at Regulus in a chastising manner as he brazenly replied, "That would be the day." And indeed it would be. Lucius was more or less the personality type that ditched others on superficial whimsy, not the kind to get ditched, so to speak. "And I was merely figuring out what to do with myself," Lucius then declared vaguely as he leaned his upper body over the railing once more to look over the revolving staircases. "Seems that final year was not as explosive as I would have hoped - rather like every other semester, actually." While Lucius was never one to give anything away, especially his personal thoughts - his opinions on the matter of Hogwarts were always on the tip of his tongue for anyone to hear (teachers, housemates, and classmates included). And even still, Lucius was certain that boredom was not the core of his inward dilemma, but he shall not mutter of such idle pondering, it was much too locked up to declare even if he wanted to, and there was no need considering the current company he was keeping, Regulus was already occupied.

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[regulus arcturus black]

"That would be the day."

Tut-tutting. Only Sirius did that when he was truely annoyed with him. He raised an eyebrow at Lucius questioningly, then shook his head. He was just being the older student, chastising the younger for behaving outside of the norm. The day. He'd been told a lot about this 'day', but never in enough detail for him. It was always said in passing: 'you'll understand when the day comes.', 'When your day comes'. He was the type that didn't really care too much, but was in all actual fact kind of annoyed that no-one had given a specific date. Not that he ever thought that any of these days would come, it seemed to be just a generic response to: 'nevermind'. He didn't get it as much these day. He'd mostly got it from one of his elderly relatives, which he couldn't off hand remember the name of. And he didn't care too much to be honest. He had enough relatives here and there and about the place that he couldn't be expected to remember all of them, could he? Then again, he'd never liked that relative since he'd always called him Reginald instead or Regulus. Yes, most people just called him Reg or Reggie, but at least have the decency to use a nickname if you didn't know the full name. "And which day were you thinking of? Next tuesday, purhaps. It always seems a good day to me since I know it'll never come." Since the next day never came because when it did it was today. Time was a terribly frustrating thing.

"And I was merely figuring out what to do with myself,"

Reggie turned his head, frowning. "Very dangerous, that." He said, his London accent clipped with the slight air of sarcasm. "Much better to just go through life not planning anything. Did alright for me didn't it?" If you didn't count the tendancy to set things on fire and blow up entire classrooms. Teachers forgave, students forgot, all was good in the world. He'd turned out like a good younger Black should, except not quite. He was a hell of a lot better than Sirius anyday, in Black terms. But, he still had the faint idea that Sirius had a few things right in the world. He'd never say it to his face, or anyone elses for that matter. He might day it to Dorrie, but then she knew Sirius and himself inside and out. He didn't quite know how she put up with them.

"Seems that final year was not as explosive as I would have hoped - rather like every other semester, actually."

Not explosive, eh. Hmm, that was a problem wasn't it. "Well, I can help with the lack of explosions." He said with a grin. Yes, explosion were good. The last one he had done was a large one during Care of Magical Creatures. Not his class, someone elses. The first-years had just been looking at salamanders and he thought he'd 'spice' it up a bit. So he'd blown it up. He thought that was spicey enough, some might disagree but he wasn't one to care highly. "I can't say that Fifth year has any thrills that I'm looking forward to." He admitted with a shrug. "It's school, I'm not sure you're supposed to find it 'explosive', you just have to make it so yourself." And so he did, in the best way possible. He'd happily sneek into one of Lucius' lessons and blow something up once or twice. Made things a little more interesting in any case.

[lucius abraxas malfoy]

^{losing my breath in waves
knowing that every crash is feeding the hourglass
and taking the stride, from all our lives}
[/i]

Chortling slightly (which was a feat in itself, seeing as he was at a near-scowl only moments ago), he looked to his dark-haired counterpart, “I actually can’t imagine the day I get ditched,” He stated quite thoughtfully, considering how narcissitic it came off to be. What sensible Slytherin would deny him? He had the name, he had the lineage, and he had the personality type that was hard to ignore. Not to say he had to be liked at all, of course, it’s just that he was the closest to the social epicenter for purebloods that an adolescent could get, seeing as he’s been treated as an adult in the pureblood circles since he was twelve. He could be the most loathed person in the school, he still had the good connections. Though it should be rather dismal that he was almost certain that he was merely a pawn and that he didn’t have any true, ‘good’ friends to date - the set up he has now is actually exactly how he wanted it. Everyone got their way in this interweaving game called self-preservation. “But if it is next Tuesday, I’ll know who jinxed me.”

Speaking of this ’game’ that was vaguely described earlier, apparently Lucius never took a break from playing. He had confided too much in Reg already, if only to excuse himself and downplay the sorryful situation of Lucius idly laying about by himself. Regulus’s youthful outlook was rather enviable, as Lucius - at one time or another - was precisely the same. That sense of wanton impulse only came out when triggered or inspired. Now he was sobered, plagued to being a responsible person rather than flippant and silly child. While Reggie had a very strong point, the basic fact was that Lucius wasn’t allowed. Any naughtiness, bad behavior, and vices were kept tucked away and in secret. “That would work … if the plan - or lack thereof - was actually up to me.” Lucius said good-naturedly, though obviously it wasn’t the cheeriest comment to state. But as any upstanding pureblood of marrying age knows, the last person who had control of their life was the actual person. Parents, society - hell - the meaningless opinions of the ancient, naggy purebloods got to put their two galleons in before he did. They chose who you married, what your occupation would be, who you should hang out with, what your grades should be - everything, just everything. The plight of money and renown - once again, Lucius didn’t usually complain with his circumstances.

“I knew I could count on you,” Lucius then said, waiting almost expectantly for him to send a fiery shower of brilliant light down onto the innocent bystanders using the already complicated and confusing changing stair cases to get to their next location. It was times like these where he seriously questioned why Sirius got all the attention, Reg was clearly the more interesting in Lucius’s book. Sirius was rather - to put nicely - a product of James Potter’s boredom - a jester at best. At least Reggie, though younger, played to his own beat. For the second time in a short while, he chortled slightly again. “Just because it’s school doesn’t mean it has to be as dull as Hell.” Lucius countered lightly. “I think things would get a lot more interesting if we stirred some people up…” He then said autonomously. That’s exactly what Hogwarts needed - conflict - chaos even. Was it awfully dreadful of him that he actually wanted havoc on the students? Maybe just a smidgen. Still, having everything sugary and lovely as sunshine all the time was boring.

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