welcome to chimera!

The dungeons weren't exactly the nicest place to simply hang about. They tended to be cold, damp, and over all not all that pleasant. But that was where Adonia Zabini had found herself that evening. There were plenty of empty classrooms all through the dungeon, especially since most of the classes for all the years were condensed into only one or two classrooms chosen by the Potions Master. Those tended to be closer to the safety of the stairs that led up to the Entrance Hall. However, much deeper there were plenty more classrooms, abandoned for the most part. Adonia had wandered a bit into the deeper parts of the dungeons, finally finding a classroom she found satisfactory.

The desks and chairs had all been pushed into the corners of the room years ago, and a cauldron sat on the large professor's desk. She had slipped into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar so that she could hear approaching footsteps, had raided the supply cupboard for what she needed, and then lit the cauldron with a flick of her wand. Slowly and carefully, she'd started brewing, figuring it would be better to work by instinct then by textbook. Textbooks only showed you one way of doing things, and she wasn't exactly working with anything particularly volatile. After a while, she felt satisfied, and allowed the potion to simmer.

Adonia leaned back in her chair, producing a copy of Witch Weekly from her small bag, which she had placed an enlarging charm on. There was an interesting article on beauty potions, though Adonia was quite certain she didn't need any. There seemed to be quite a market for it, however, and she wondered if she couldn't just make her own and sell them to the desperate girls of Hogwarts. She was quite sure there were plenty of girls who would buy them - since, of course, many girls clearly needed them. She flipped the page, but paused when she heard footsteps approaching in the dungeon hall.

She wasn't doing anything wrong, really, though a prefect might object and tell her otherwise. However, usually only the Slytherin prefects knew about these abandoned classrooms. It wouldn't be terrible as long as it was a Slytherin - she could manage slipping out of detention if she had to. She put the magazine away, then turned to her potion, stirring it absent-mindedly as she listened to the footsteps get louder.

Abraxas Malfoy grumbled to himself as he made his way down the dank Potions corridor. He spent enough time in the grubby classrooms during the day, let alone after hours when he had much better things to be doing. Unfortunately for him, he was summoned by a voice he could not refuse. Professor Slughorn had caught him firing a Trip Jinx at some first years, and needless to say had not been amused. Malfoy wasn’t usually one to cow tow to the whims of his Professors, but Slughorn happened to be one of the few with the power to expel him - a possibility that the blond Slytherin very much wanted to avoid. Besides, a detention with Slughorn was never exactly a punishment. An embarrassment certainly, but not a punishment. In fact, Malfoy doubted whether he would have to do much beyond enduring a monologue about Slughorn’s illustrious ex-students. In the grand scheme of things, an evening with Old Sluggy wouldn’t kill him.

Despite this, the seventh year wasn’t exactly over the moon to be spending valuable time on mindless encounters with dull Professors. He had better things to be doing, all of which most certainly did not involve either the dungeons or Slughorn. He dug his hands further into the deep pockets of his robes; warmth of the Great Hall fast dissipating. Checking the time he quickened his pace, counting off the doors as he went. By the looks of it Slughorn had directed him to one of the rarely used classrooms that lurked deep in the bowels of Hogwarts. He approached the heavy old door and caught sight of a cauldron bubbling away inside. So maybe tonight would be a step up from the usual lecture. A small part of Malfoy cringed at the thought of actually having to do some work, but nevertheless he stepped forward and pushed the door aside. Malfoy was not the lurking type.

To his surprise, the owner of the cauldron couldn’t not have been more different to the stodgy old Potions Professor. At first he thought he might have been mistaken as to the location of his detention, but then he was a Malfoy, and not one to be incorrect. Subsequently he remembered the time Slughorn had apprehended him stealing a jar of Horned Slugs from the cupboard - the doddery old fool had turned up two hours late and consequently had to let Malfoy escape almost scot-free. Abraxas assumed that the Professor had repeated his mistake. Still, Abraxas couldn’t conceal his astonishment at finding little Miss Zabini, the little sister of his dearest friend Aloysius, seated in front of the steaming concoction. He’d been introduced to the girl by her brother, so he felt no qualms in breaking the peace and striking up a conversation.

“Good evening Miss Zabini,” he began, with a slight but courteous nod of his head. “I do hope I’m not interrupting you.”

If it were anyone else he probably would have told them to scarper, and thrown a couple of curses at their retreating backs for good measure. However, it would not to do upset Aloysius little sister. God knows she gave him enough grief already. The man was always complaining about ‘Adonia this’ or ‘Adonia that’. He stepped into the room fully and closed the door behind him. He’d managed to avoid Slughorn for this long, and he hoped to keep it that way.

Adonia paused in her stirring when she heard the door open, but didn't turn around right away. Perhaps the person had simply walked into the room and would leave almost immediately when they realized that the room was already occupied. It had happened plenty of times before for her, though admittedly when she was in more precarious situations compared to brewing a potion. She was used to simply ignoring the outside interruption until it went away, but when the person at the door spoke, she turned. The voice was recognizable and she knew who it was before she even turned. How often had she heard that snide, bored voice discussing gossip with her brother in the common room?

"Good evening, Abraxas."

Her voice was quiet, but the room was empty and her voice carried quite easily. Her eyes lingered on his face, and a small smile fell across her lips. Very rarely did she see Abraxas without the company of her brother. She couldn't recall a time where they had spoken while her brother was not about. She had never really noticed him before - she'd noticed plenty of the boys in his year before, but never him. Never the fact that his eyes were a lovely shade of blue, the lazily thrown together look about him that made him stand out compared to the other boys. Quite different really. The opposite of her brother if anything. Her eyes lingered perhaps a moment too long before she went back to stirring her cauldron, replying to his statement about interrupting.

"Never, Mister Malfoy. Feel free to join me, if you'd like." She said, gesturing to a chair on the other side of the desk, and gesturing with her wand so that the cauldron stirred itself. Her eyes drifted away from the lavender colored potion, back to his face, a look of curiosity crossing her features. "So what do I owe this lovely surprise?"

Once he had recovered from his surprise at finding Miss Zabini alone in the dungeons at such an unusual hour, Malfoy was gripped by an unshakable curiosity. What on earth was she brewing in that cauldron? Something illicit, or even dangerous undoubtably. If it were homework she would never have chosen such a dank and gloomy place to do it, Abraxas deduced. The concoction was now giving off heavy, purple-tinted fumes which choked Malfoy slightly. He loosened the knot of his tie slightly, trying to ease his breathing. The seventh year was puzzled that he couldn't place the potion. He regarded himself as rather proficient in Potions, having endured seven years of the class and its loathsome Professor.

Before he could open his mouth to enquire, Adonia had offered him a seat. He was reluctant to take it, as he wasn't planning on hanging around if the Professor wasn't going to show his face. However, Adonia had rather determined expression on her face, one that Malfoy saw all the time on the strikingly similar face of her brother, and he knew he could not decline without causing serious insult. Besides, he was intrigued, and Abraxas was a fool for anything involving intrigue and mystery.

He noted the way she addressed him using his first name, as opposed to the usual, more formal 'Malfoy'. This girl certainly had some nerve. He paced across the large room and took the chair, only to be interrogated by Adonia the moment he sat down. Her question flustered him slightly and he observed her dark form across the desk as he pondered how to answer it. He didn't want to admit to actually turning up to a detention, for that would be purely embarrassing. Instead he plumped for a straightforward lie.

"Well you see Miss Zabini, I came down here to check upon my Calming Draught. Slughorn is breathing down my neck about my recent performance in Potions, so I want this one to at least scrape an A," he said with a slight reassuring smile. "May I be so bold as to return the question?"

Adonia liked to think that she was rather good as deception, and therefore fairly good at spotting when someone was lying to her. She watched from under hooded lashes as Abraxas remained in the room, taking her invitation to sit across from her. Her focus returned back to her cauldron as he spoke, her face remaining neutral as he told his tale. Attempting to scrape an 'A' on a calming draft? But a calming draft was a OWL level potion, something that someone like Abraxas would have had to master at some point, seeing as he was in NEWT potions with her brother. It was clear the was lying to her, but she wasn't about to call him out on it. What he was lying about probably wasn't anything to severe, or he wouldn't have used such a transparent lie.

Her eyes flickered to his lips for a moment when he smiled, and she smiled back just as sweetly. She didn't answer him right away, instead gesturing with her wand and sending some of the potion carefully into the vials she had brought along with her. The lavender concontion now shimmered like mother of pearl, and she placed it gently on the desk in front of her before settling back into her seat and meeting his eyes again.

"Practicing." she stated simply, fingers fiddling as though bored with the potion she'd procured. "There's a vast amount of potions that Slughorn simply doesn't touch upon, and that's simply a shame." she continued. Her hand gestured lazily towards the cauldron on her right with a flick of the wrist. "Such as beauty potions. I'm actually pleasantly surprised by how little they are marketed, beauty potions. Especially when it seems that so many poor unfortunate souls in Hogwarts seem to so desperately need them. Wouldn't you agree, Mister Malfoy." Her brow raised gently, as though egging him on to tell her what she wanted to hear.

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Malfoy saw his mistake. Even a fool know that Calming Draughts were OWL level potions, and nowhere near the standard of brewing that NEWTs required. How could he have made such a blunder? He could see in her face that she knew of his deception, but she didn't press the matter, so he did his best to retain his composure and kept his mouth firmly shut.

Abraxas watched her as she decanted some of the sickeningly sweet smelling potion. Every now and then he would catch sight of something - a fleeting expression, a flick of her wand - that reminded him almost exactly of Aloysius. They were alike in so many ways, although Adonia lacked Aloysius' delicate precision, and he was nowhere near as forward and outgoing as his pretty little sister. He looked away as she finished, not wanting to meet her eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was give her the wrong impression.

He reached across the table and plucked up one of the vials with his left hand. It was still warm from the cauldron and he turned it over in his hands as Adonia began to explain what it was. Her scathing dismissal of Slughorn amused him, although he was surprised at her harsh judgement of her fellow classmates. It wasn't a particularly gentile thing to say.

"Well, I wouldn't go so far as to call them poor, unfortunate souls. Although the majority of them are poor and, come to think of it, rather unfortunate. I think you judge them rather too harshly Miss Zabini, although I do admire your entrepreneurial spirit," he drawled, putting the vial back down on the table. "I do have to ask though, why bother? I mean, you are hardly in need of the money, so why trouble yourself to help the peasants?"

He was watching her. Adonia didn't have to meet his eyes to know that, instead concentrating on her potion as she had corked the vial. She was quite used to men staring at her, and knew the feeling quite well, though for some reason she found it slightly surprising that someone like Abraxas Malfoy would be examining her with such scrutiny. Instinctively she arched her back slightly, fixing her posture and tilting her shoulders back slightly. However, when she turned to meet his eyes, he looked away. Was he embarrassed? That was slightly amusing. A smile - perhaps a slightly cruel one - flickered onto her lips, before switching back to her demure pout.

She did smile again, however, shortly after when he complimented her entrepreneurial spirit. She did think she had inherited her father's eye for business as much as her brother had, despite the fact that a business-oriented woman was nearly unheard of, especially in a family as prestigious as hers. "I judge them simply as I see them, Mister Malfoy. Compared to the very prestigious families that make up this school - such as the Malfoys - the rest are really of little consequence." Adonia stated simply, smiling and giving him a gentle nod of acknowledgement.

Adonia's face didn't falter in the slightest at his question. She'd gotten quite good and pretending that nothing was wrong with her family financially. She lied so often, sometimes she forgot that it was indeed a lie and not fact. Her hand brushed through the air as though batting away an invisible fly. "It has nothing to do with money, obviously. It's something to occupy my time. I'm not a charity, however. I won't be handing out something like this for free. Not when there is a possibility for demand." She paused, smiling. "If that empties the pockets of the peasants, than it is even more of a pleasure."

At this point Malfoy found himself stuck for words. Had it been almost anyone else, he would have had a witty reply at the ready. With a friend such as Aloysius, he would have followed up with a scathing comment about the vulgarity of peasants, perhaps. But Adonia inhabited a curious place within his social circle. She was not an enemy - her name and blood status saved her from that shame - and yet she was not a friend. They were separated by too many years and too many social restrictions to be that. They were acquaintances then, but Abraxas always felt that the connection between them transcended that.

Either way, she confused him. The way that she watched him, poised on her chair like a lithe monkey. The way that she teased him - no other girl he knew did that and got away with it too. When he couldn’t remove his gaze from her quick enough and she caught him staring, he was faintly mortified. It wasn’t like Abraxas to be so unsubtle, and he was well on his way to giving the poor girl the wrong impression, much to his dislike.

As she wittered away and the focus of the interrogation moved away from him, Malfoy shifted around in his seat, and stretched his sprawling legs out in front of him. The rickety old potions stool had fast sending his bum to sleep, and pins and needles raced down his legs as he moved. He picked up on her enthusiasm for her business-minded ventures, and judged that a safe topic to talk about.

“So do you plan on going into the murky world of business, Miss Zabini? Not really the place for girls like you I should imagine,” he drawled, purposely trying to rile her. “After all, you have to have passion, and drive, and a bloody good mind. And I for one am not convinced you have the correct... equipment.”

He threw the last comment out just to see how far he could push her. Abraxas was fed up of constantly being forced on to the back foot when conversing with her, and wanted to give the girl a taste of her own medicine. This was only partly malicious on Malfoy’s part, for his main intent was to define the blurry outline of their relationship. They were to be allies or enemies. Simple as that. A Malfoy didn’t have time to waste on mere acquaintances.

Abraxas Malfoy was new territory for Adonia as well. He had existed mainly as a visible idea for several years of her life. A reference by her brother to the boy, the two boys sitting together in the Great Hall or in the common room, but she'd never actually sat down to talk to the boy. She knew him to honorable, since he was friends with her brother. It took a great deal to gain the approval of Aloysius. Thinking about it now, she wondered why - with her brother listing so many suitors for her - Abraxas' name had never appeared. He was certainly handsome, rich, and well enough for Aloysius' company. What made him escape her brother's watchful eye?

There was a fleeting moment where his eyes met hers, and she had an old and familiar feeling bubble up in her chest. Her blood ran hot, and the tips of her fingers tingled for a fraction of a second. Her thoughts turned to things that she, as a lady, would never utter. There was the possibility that Aloysius had feared that she would steal away this boy, and perhaps she would. Her brother needn't be selfish, though Adonia certainly wasn't a good sharer. But she was ahead of herself and perhaps a bit too bold. But she might as well try. That was always the fun part, wasn't it? That's what she craved - that chase.

Adonia liked to think she was very much in tune with her emotions. She knew when she wanted something, and there wasn't a doubt in her mind. There were nagging voices in the back of her mind that told her who exactly was sitting across from her - her brother's best friend. But she was greedy, she readily admitted that to herself, but since her monetary issues, she realized there were plenty of things she could be greedy about. Things that didn't cost money. Things she could have without spending a knut.

"I'm hardly a girl, Mister Malfoy." she stated pointedly, shifting slightly in her seat, away from the potion. It could simmer for a little while longer without spoiling. "The Zabini family has always been business-minded, and such things aren't just passed down to those of the male persuasion."

His last comment made her brow raise, her eyes narrowing slightly in meeting his. "Really, Abraxas? I beg to differ." she replied, wishing that her blouse was buttoned as low as she usually kept it. However, the last time Aloysius had seen her like that, she'd gotten another one of his 'talks', which basically consisted of him telling her that she was ruining the great name that is Zabini. Besides, she hadn't been expecting company down in the dungeons. She'd been unprepared for Malfoy's arrival. Despite that, her hand stretched out, hovering for a moment by his hand, before plucking the vial from the table where he had left it, rolling it between two of her fingers.

He had to hand it to the girl - she could certainly think on her feet. Adonia hadn't even batted an eyelid at his comments. The way she couldn't be intimidated made Malfoy uneasy. He was used to always having the upper hand, particularly when it came to the women he associated with.The ladies in his social circle were always just that - ladies. Prim and proper; meek and mild. But Adonia didn't have that icy disposition, although she was just as polished and charming as the other girls. No, what Adonia had was fire. Abraxas could feel it radiating from her as she reached across the table towards him. For a horrible moment he thought that she was going to take his own sweaty hand in her light delicate one, and he nearly snatched it away in terror.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate Adonia's classical good looks or her sharp mind, but he knew what she was doing; could see it in her eyes. Any natural response he might have felt was washed away by fear for reputation. His own reputation, her reputation, even indirectly for her brother's reputation. In the social circles they inhabited one did not spend long evenings alone with young, impressionable girls in dark dungeons. Not without consequences. And whilst Adonia might have acquired somewhat of a reputation, Malfoy was proud to say that he had maintained a clean record.

Needling something that would distract them both from what was really going on, Abraxas took a gamble. He was good at gambling - or so he thought. He ran his hands through his hair in attempt to be rid of the clammy feeling on his palms. Then, placing a wicked smile on his face, he leant towards Adonia and plucked the vial of brew out of her clutches.

"Well then Adonia, if you are truly as business minded as you claim, then you should have complete faith in the product you are trying to flog. Do allow me the honour of being your first customer," and with that he brought the concoction to his mouth and drank.

The potion was thick and sickly as he gulped it down, and Malfoy was instantly filled with mild panic. What if it needed to rest? What if it was unstable? What if it was poisoned, just to spite the mudbloods who would surely buy it? He wouldn't put it past Adonia to do something so devious. Still, he didn't let his panic show, and drained every last drop into his mouth. Malfoy needed to see what she would do; whether he could once more gain the upper hand.

"Cheers," he said as he placed the phial back on the table with a gentle clink.

It wasn't quite yet that Adonia realized what kind of a man Abraxas Malfoy was. For a long time, she'd dealt with the very base types of men who came her way. Adonia was indeed a fickle woman, and had gone through a fair share of men. But nearly all of them had been cut from the same cloth - they were interested in one thing, and gave into their primal instincts rather easily. There were others who weren't fond of her way of doing things, and she tended to simply shrug that off and perhaps drop a hint or two that they might possibly be a shirt lifter. But for some reason, Abaraxas didn't seem to fall into either of these categories, and she was left wondering what made him so different?

She was caught by surprise, therefore, when the Malfoy boy slipped his hand across the table and plucked the vial out of her hand. Her brow furrowed slightly as she watched him uncork the vial, eyeing him suspiciously as he spoke. What the hell was he trying to prove? Her brows shot up when she saw what he was about to do, though she didn't make a grab for the vial or anything. If he wanted to drink it, he very well could. She had faith in the potion being successful. Adonia, however, was quite surprised that Abraxas would do something so bold.

Adonia relaxed her face, watching curiously to see if anything happened. She knew that it was a mild brew of beauty potion, and probably wouldn't have too dramatic of an effect. She watched carefully, and noticed mild changes she'd expected. His eyes became bluer, perhaps slightly wider. His lips were fuller, and there was a sheen in his hair that glowed even in the dim light of the dungeon. Adonia blinked, realizing she'd been staring a bit too much. She allowed a smug smile to appear on her faces, though her eyes never left Abraxas' face.

"Hm, must have been a dud. I don't see much difference." she lied, smiling genially.