Playtime ((Kitty))

[Damien Lennox S7]

“Your hair’s a mess. All sticking up and full of grass.”

“Fix it then, sweetheart,” Damien drawled, his tone mockingly sweet as his hands twined through long coppery strands that, on any other person, would have made him grimace at the brassy shade. Having expressed an opinion and now determined to rectify the situation, hands attacked his dark hair, playfully pulling and teasing out as many grass strands as were being newly mixed in to prolong the game. Damien chuckled lowly, his hands capturing the other pair with far more skill and experience, tugging insistently until a pale face and reddened mouth met his own for a deceivingly soft brush of lips. The girl, Theresa, was one of his oldest conquests who just kept coming back for more. Damien didn’t mind; sure, he hated to repeat the same thing too often but at least the girl knew his boundaries and how far she could push before he abandoned her and the farce of a relationship completely. She never pushed, was never possessive or jealous. That was a bit disappointing at times, certainly, because Damien felt a silent, not quite secret thrill at the prospect of being wanted enough for an argument and fight to start because of that depth of feeling, but it was practical. She was a quick fix for whenever he wanted to relax but couldn’t be bothered to hunt out a new conquest or expend the effort to push someone over the edge of desire until they only wanted him, at least at that moment. Theresa had never seemed to mind either. It was an agreement that suited them both equally. At twelve, he had been her first kiss and, a few years later after his girlfriend had broken up with him for lusting after her brother, he had been a lot of her other firsts too. Maybe she loved him. Maybe she didn’t. Damien didn’t love her; she was a bit of fun, a beautiful figure to fool around with when he felt bored and too lazy to start working on another new conquest.

Kiss over, Damien shot Theresa a glance that clearly warned her to remove any remaining blades of grass from his hair. He wasn’t usually particular about the state of his hair or his clothing but something that he could barely spot over Theresa’s shoulder had caught his eye. He had to look his best when he was on the hunt. Obedient now as she wasn’t at other times, the red-haired sixth year gently picked out the small, scattered pieces of grass before smoothing down Damien’s hair carefully. Carlin had always warned Damien that Theresa was halfway in love with him, a dangerous state for any girl when the object of their affections was a playboy of Damien’s calibre. Rare as it was, Damien had paid little attention to Carlin. No one would comb so carefully through the hair of someone they loved when said person was impatiently waiting to seduce another girl. He knew Theresa. There would be a modicum of cruelty and vengeance in her hold if she felt for him in such a way. “Playtime’s over, Theresa. Business time now.” His smirk was sharp, wolfish, and Damien didn’t look over his shoulder as he rose to his feet and sauntered away cheerily. He had relaxed quite long enough with his long-time lover and occasional friend. The hunt was on.

Beautiful in a more classic sense than other girls he had seen roam around Hogwarts, Damien noted from a short distance, glancing at the girl from the corner of his eye. Long hair, dark brown and clearly well cared for. Vanity or good genes? He couldn’t glimpse the colour of her eyes yet but he never did really glance too closely at eyes. It made everything too personal in a world where nothing was personal but everything had the potential to be intimate. How had this girl hidden from him for so long? Judging by appearance, naturally, she seemed to be at least fifteen, which was the lowest age that Damien would sink to for flirtation. He had standards, even if he had started earlier than most. “Hello,” Damien prowled closer, expression softening from the smirk that had first signalled his interest into a warm smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. She hadn’t done anything to warrant his affection just yet. That would, hopefully, come later. “Do you know who Carlin Lennox is, and have you seen her around anywhere? She was supposed to meet me fifteen minutes ago, and it really isn’t like her to be late when it’s about something that she can help me with.” He was lying, of course. Carlin was off on one of her dates and had been for the past hour. Knowing his cousin as he did, she wouldn’t return within another two hours unless she somehow sensed that she had the opportunity to ruin Damien’s chances. Not to mention that, while she would happily help him, they would pick a better time than when one of them could be out on a date. They communicated better than to plan something so poorly.

[Kitty Swann]

"Isn't Hogwarts pretty in spring?" Kitty asked her cat, curled securely in her arms and purring against her pale span of throat. Together they meandered past the Courtyard, onto the Grounds, where the trees stood green and proud in the light breeze, and flowers danced together mid-bloom. "Not that Hogwarts isn't pretty all year round," Kitty added with a smile as she admired the peaceful scenery. She enjoyed spontaneous walks out of the castle, into the picturesque vision that Hogwarts thrived in. It reminded her of York; a lively atmosphere in a historical building, set against nature at its most beautiful. Whenever Kitty missed her Mum's baking or her father's kind laugh, or the ins and outs of her small but darling hometown, she would wander outside for a lungful of familiar fresh air; the very same air her parents would right now be breathing. "I wonder what Mum and Dad are doing at the moment," Kitty said out loud, and kissed Twinkle's head fondly. "At least you and Lissy are here. What would I do without you?"

Twinkle had been Mr an Mrs Swann's gift to the twins five years ago, just before they had entered Hogwarts, and both Kitty and Alice were extremely fond of the black-and-white cat. Kitty made a habit of taking Twinkle on her walks; he liked to roam amongst the blades of grass, catching imaginary bees and, amusingly, chase his tail like a dog. "Now don't wander too far," Kitty reminded Twinkle as she knelt to set him down, releasing him from her arms. In only seconds he was but a blur of black and white amongst the greenery, leaving Kitty with an amused glitter in her eyes. Once Twinkle was out of sight, she took hold of the camera that hung from her neck and held the object to her eye. It was a large, heavy camera, and had been quite costly, as it was not unlike a professional one a Muggle photographer would use. This had been another present from Kitty's parents, a more recent one that, again, the twins shared between them, since they were alike in their enjoyment of photography.

Since being given the camera, Kitty's aim was to take as many photos as possible - especially of Hogwarts, to create physical evidence of her memories so she and Alice could look back on their teenagehood and magical schooling and smile. It also meant her parents could see Hogwarts for themselves; Kitty couldn't wait to show them her new batch, all of the spring delights Hogwarts had offered since the beginning of term in January. Mr and Mrs Swann had been intrigued by the notion of magic ever since the arrival of their girls' acceptance letters from Hogwarts, and they were extremely proud parents of their Muggle-born witches. They took joy in every little thing their daughters did, though, whether magical of Muggle, and Kitty would always love her parents for their unconditional love.

After a few shots, Kitty's attention was diverted by a voice, and she took her eye from the camera to see a boy standing before her. She smiled automatically in greeting and let the camera fall gently against her chest. "Hi," she said, assessing the short brown hair and twinkling eyes; his face was recognisable, but Kitty could not put a name to it. She was sure, though, that he was an older student, though he was certainly not in Ravenclaw. He was somewhat handsome, she noted; but she also felt like the smile he was wearing did not quite reach his eyes. Still, Kitty was anything if not friendly, and didn't concern herself over the issue much. "I'm sorry, I don't know who you're talking about," she answered sincerely. "Which year and house is she in? Maybe if you told me what she looks like, I can help you. I might have seen her around, but I've only been here for a few minutes." She smiled apologetically, before extending a hand. "I'm Kitty, by the way. It's nice to meet you...?" she trailed off, waiting for a mirroring introduction.

[Damien Lennox S7]

He knew he was acting like Carlin; his cousin was usually the one to fix her dark eyes on someone and hunt after them with a single-minded concentration, though she did take breaks for other conquests even in the middle of a chase. She just couldn’t help it. Carlin had her fixations just as much as anyone else did. It wasn’t Carlin’s fault that she couldn’t bring herself to proudly admit that she preferred men, clean-cut and well-mannered of course, who would bend themselves to her will without much of a fight. Not everyone could be as open with their true selves as Damien Lennox had always been. Regardless of his inner musings, how could he resist metaphorically bounding after this rather beautiful girl who had previously escaped his notice? She would have been too young before now to catch his eye, Damien guessed. By his judgement only a year separated him and his prey, just twelve tiny months or maybe fewer, but he still had a few morals rattling around within him somewhere. He wasn’t completely amoral. Not yet anyway. He still had a few more years to grow into that state of being before adulthood had him firmly within its grip, with all of its standards and ethics and principles. Or so his aunt and uncle said, which always privately amused Damien. As much as he loved them, he couldn’t foresee himself changing just to suit them and their delicate tastes. His parents, however, were true businesspeople. They understood that people, people like him and Carlin who had future duties and current idle lifestyles, should take whatever they could get through whatever methods they felt it necessary to use. They just used a less socially acceptable technique than bribery or blackmail.

Did the girl have a camera? Damien nearly paused in his calm, silently steady pursuit as he sent a look of pure bafflement at his quarry. Photographs were for the elderly who couldn’t remember anything beyond five minutes previous or proudly hopeful parents who wanted to record every moment of his success and failure as role-models and guides through life. As he drew closer, he noted that the camera was too big, too heavy and fiddly to be just a toy to be used at leisurely intervals. So pretty girl used it as a costly hobby of sorts, he surmised with a sigh. He sometimes found it difficult to distract the truly and seriously interested ones from their pastime. It all depended on how open they were to sensuality and carnal distractions. Something about her, whether it was her face or her clothes or just her body language, did hint at blind, wholesome innocence but that was hardly a deterrent for someone like him. Damien wasn’t the type to be fooled by something so simple and obvious. Carlin was an expert at the shy, coy look when she wanted to be, purring out how misunderstood and persecuted she was by a few ex-boyfriends who hadn’t been amenable to their break-up. After watching his cousin work her magic, and stealing the trick a few times himself when he felt like beating Carlin at her own game, Damien didn’t believe that anyone was innocent simply because of their outward appearance.

Oh. Damien barely refrained from casting a thoroughly disappointed and almost betrayed glance at the girl. Her answer verified the innocence that he had sensed but not really wanted to believe was true. No flirting, no smile of enticement, not even a teasingly flirtatious question of whether Carlin was his girlfriend because, if so, he deserved someone who wouldn’t stand him up. He would start to regret approaching her if she didn’t show some promise quickly. Damien wasn’t in the mood to prod and poke at another innocent until he got some results. There weren’t even any additional benefits attached to this innocent. He couldn’t just abandon the start of a conquest hunt at the very beginning of this new round though. It was written in one of those unofficial, unwritten rules that Carlin always stuck by so he had to as well. He had to put some effort into it then accept his failure if he felt like giving up. Game on.

“Hi.” Damien grinned, bright with the inner amusement that always came from the pursuit of a conquest as he shook the girl’s hand before leaning in to feather a soft kiss against her cheek. “I spent Christmas in Europe,” he excused himself unrepentantly. “I got used to that form of greeting. Sorry if it offended you. My cousin is always scolding me for it.” He was lying too much with this girl, when he usually kept as close as possible to the truth to avoid being caught in a falsehood. He would keep his story straight; he always did. “I’m Damien by the way; I should have introduced myself before bombarding you with questions but I suppose I’m worried about Carlin.” He smiled then, a soft, rueful smile that he knew from experience would convey the fabricated worry that he supposedly felt for his ‘missing’ cousin. Not that he had ever used that story before; it would be interesting to see how long he could keep it up before someone pointed out to the girl that Damien and Carlin Lennox always knew where the other was, almost like a sixth sense that originated not from magic but from superb communication. “She’s a sixth year; Slytherin. Dark hair, quite long. Well, just past her shoulder blades really. Is that long for a girl? It would be long for a boy, I know that much. Pale skin. I think it’s pale. Paler than mine. Brown eyes, but I don’t you’ll have noticed her eye colour if you did see her. Usually with a boy or two trailing after her like idiots. Have you seen her? I really need someone to help me out, you see, and she promised that she would.”

[Kitty Swann]

"Oh!" Kitty made a little, surprised sound as she felt Damien's lips on her cheek, and laughed softly as he drew away. "No, of course not! It's really quite lovely; very charming," she replied with an amused grin, before adding jokily, It's not every day you get a kiss on the cheek." Although Damien was certainly quite a handsome boy, Kitty had never found very smooth boys particularly appealing; there was something so much more attractive about spontaneous boys who obviously hadn't thought out every move and word to impress you, who just went with the flow and did their best to put a simple smile on your face. Kitty could tell Damien was nothing like this; he was probably a bit of a womaniser really, she thought to herself, but she wasn't at all deterred or frightened by this. As long as nothing drastic happened during this light conversation, there was nothing to be afraid of, and Kitty liked meeting new people, whoever and whatever they may be.

"Nice to meet you, Damien," Kitty smiled. "You must care about Carlin a lot then," she commented warmly. "That's very sweet of you." Truth be told, Kitty rarely worried about Alice and vice versa. They both trusted each other implicitly; they were now old enough to look after themselves independently, and their personalities had never been one for utter dependency and paranoid worrying. Kitty was even less prone to worrying than her sister, but that was because there was less to be anxious about for Kitty; Alice had always been stronger in many ways, even if it wasn't obvious to the naked eye, to those who didn't know the Swann twins. And even those who were close friends with Kitty and Alice didn't realise the subtle differences between the two, because they were extremely similar - basically identical - in so many other aspects.

Right now, for example, Kitty was sure Lissy was up in their dorm, avidly reading, stuck in a fantasy fiction world. Lissy had always been the more voracious reader, but that didn't mean to say Kitty wasn't at all a bookworm. Kitty more often than not, though, spent more time outdoors, amongst nature and people, usually with Twinkle at her heels. Twinkle, Kitty thought for a moment, wondering where her cat had gotten to, when a bolt of black and white streaked towards her and Damien. "Hey baby, I was just thinking about where you'd got to," Kitty greeted fondly, nuzzling Twinkle's neck as she pulled him into her arms and straightened again. "Where've you been, eh? Sorry Damien," Kitty apologised, turning back to her company, "this is Twinkle. Twinkle, meet Damien. Say hello." Grinning, Kitty made Twinkle's paw extend and wave.

As Twinkle lay obediently in her arms, silent, Kitty listened to Damien's description of Carlin. "She sounds like a lot of girls I know, to be honest," Kitty said with a lopsided smile and shrug, and giggled when Damien mentioned the possibility of trailing boys. "I've seen no 'idiots', so no, I don't think I've seen her," she concluded good-naturedly. "Sorry... But maybe I can help you instead? And Twinkle here," she offered, chucking her content cat under the chin. "We're free right now, aren't we baby? Free as a bird."

[Damien Lennox S7]

Heh. The corner of Damien’s mouth quirked into a small smirk. The quiet sound of surprise that the girl had squeaked out was actually rather appealing. It made a portion of him, the part of his personality that loved the patient and steady chase of a new conquest, a little bit more interested in proceedings. Innocence was not generally attractive when he wasn’t in the mood to gently coax someone out of their timidity. For this girl, it was oddly endearing. Perhaps something in him had softened. He needed something to snap him back into his usual mindset. Carlin would do it, with her harsh words about their reality and what other people truly meant to them. Everyone was just another number to be added to their total quantity of conquests. No one was any different. Not this girl or Theresa or Elias Hunter. No one. “Charming?” Damien laughed lowly, a hint of white teeth bared in his smile. “That’s a first. I’ve been described as obnoxious and pushy as well as a few less positive adjectives but not always ‘charming’ and certainly never ‘lovely’.”

Care about Carlin a lot? Damien’s expression was rather blank at that statement from Kitty. Of course he cared about Carlin; he loved her, she was his cousin, practically his sister. At the same time, he didn’t always care about her quite so much. She was his rival, his competitor in the Lennox game that existed between the two of them. She would sabotage him as unthinkingly as she smiled to entice another new contender in their game. He would do the same to her. More than once, he had tried to lure away some of the boys that flocked to her. Sometimes he succeeded, sometimes he didn’t. It was just another way to measure if his or Carlin’s charisma was the greater. If he didn’t try, he would just be giving away the points to her without protest. He would just be letting her win. That was no way to play a game. “She’s family,” he settled on after a few seconds. “Whether I love her or I’m mad at her, she’s family.” And family mattered, though that remained unsaid.

Kitty...with a cat. The girl was sickeningly sweet with that cat – seriously, calling it ‘baby’? – but Damien couldn’t help the smile that came to his mouth as he reached out to scratch at the base of the cat’s ears absently. He wasn’t really much of an animal lover but Cyn had five kittens that adored the concept of scampering all over Damien during the summer and winter holidays. Carlin was no help during those moments either; his cousin just waved one hand with those inbred pureblood mannerisms that came to both of them so naturally and drawled out some scathing comment about him not even being able to manage five little kittens. “Hello there Twinkle. Been getting into mischief and adventure? That’s the only way to live.” Even the name of the cat made him want to shiver with disgust. There was something about the unbelievable innocence of the teenage girl standing in front of him that Damien simply couldn’t comprehend. No one had the right to be so saccharine unless they were on some sort of illegal substance.

“You could help me,” Damien considered seriously. Blue eyes studied Kitty in silent contemplation for a few moments. There was nothing that he actually needed Carlin’s help with so he didn’t need Kitty for anything but it would be one step towards his goal of counting her amongst his conquests. Making up something it was. “There are two things really. One is a spell that we were learning in Transfiguration last week, but that’s in the sixth year class and I’ve never seen you there so I doubt you can help me with that. As for the other thing...do you know how to play Blackjack? There’s a mini-tournament that we play in every month and I haven’t been winning lately, so that situation definitely needs to be rectified.”

[Kitty Swann]

Kitty looked at Damien, observing his demeanour as he spoke. "Firsts are good," she merely said, smiling. "It's the beginning of something, and I'm fond of beginnings." Twinkle purred contentedly beneath her hand as she stroked his head. "Family is the most important," Kitty nodded agreeably, smile widening. "They're a part of you. My sister is my other half." Kitty doubted she'd ever feel whole without Alice. They could be separated by millions of miles, but as long as Alice was alive, Kitty would never feel alone. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" she asked Damien curiously. Judging from his behaviour, she wasn't given the impression that he was from a large family, but Kitty had never based much of her opinions of people on first impressions.

Kitty grinned when Damien spoke to Twinkle. "He loves attention. We try not to spoil him too much, but he's got us wound around his little finger, the little devil." She shook her head with a little exasperation and much fondness. "What spell is it?" Kitty asked with interest, her thirst for knowledge sparking alive. "You could show it me, I might be able to help. I'm in Fifth Year, but I'm quite used to doing NEWT-level spells. I enjoy reading and learning more about my classes." She flashed a cheerful, bright grin, always enthusiastic about anything involved with knowing more.

"Sure I do," Kitty nodded at the mention of Blackjack. "I've played it a few times with my family. I'm nothing special at it, though." She smiled again, modest despite confident of her abilities in other areas; card games were not one of them. "Do you have cards with you?" she asked, crouching down and looking up at Damien questioningly. "Want to play here?" She set Twinkle down, and he curled up on her lap, tucking his little black head into sleep. Kitty smiled at him fondly, before glancing at Damien again. "I'm a little rusty, it's been a while since I last played," she said apologetically.

[Damien Lennox S7]

“Firsts,” Damien agreed with a wicked smirk, clearly thinking of something entirely different to the innocent, sweetly naive girl speaking, “are sometimes things to be remembered forever. The first time you do something, you and the person you’re doing it with can both be terrible at it but it’ll seem wonderful all the same, because you’ve never done it before. That’s the magic of a first time to do something.” Not that he had ever been bad during his first time, not at what he was thinking of anyway. Sex was Damien’s game, but there was a difference between honing innate skills and practicing so often that a certain level of adeptness could not be escaped. He, naturally, belonged to the former group. No one would ever make him admit otherwise; it would be a sign of failure that had never been confirmed anyway. As Damien had said, that was the beauty of a first time with someone equally inexperienced: everything seemed perfect because they didn’t know what true perfection was.

Speaking of firsts, this was certainly one. Damien couldn’t remember ever being asked about his family before. Most people seemed content to know that Damien and Carlin were related, not bothering to dig any deeper into the family tree. “I do,” he confirmed carelessly. “Two brothers and one sister; Alexander, Bryony and Colin, in order of their ages. I’m the fourth child. And the last, according to my parents. Maybe I was too much trouble during my childhood for my parents to ever want another child.” His tone was joking, but the sentiment was truthful. Damien knew very well that he had been unplanned, initially unwanted. Alexander had told him that often enough, spitting it out like a poison that lingered in his mouth even sixteen years on. Poor, bitter, jealous Alexander. No longer the parents’ favourite but, then again, who would be with Damien as an alternative? His siblings had never stood a chance once Damien had discovered his charm and the loving negligence of his parents, who gave him anything and everything he wanted. Still, Alexander and Bryony inherited everything from the businesses that their parents had built up over the years, Colin got the house, and what was Damien left with but a small villa abroad? Of them all, Damien ahd the most reason to be jealous and bitter.

Oh, how shocking, Damien deadpanned silently. The cat had Kitty wrapped around its little finger. As if that hadn’t been evident from the way she cooed over it like it was a baby; women did tend to fuss over babies in a way that Damien found quite alarming. It was really for the best that Carlin had never been prone to such turns of behaviour. He truly would not have been able to cope with such a thing from his confident, flinty-eyed cousin. There really was little chance that this girl would sleep with him unless she was tricked into believing that he wanted her for a relationship. Damien knew that type of girl, and Kitty seemed one of them to the extreme. Tricks and lies weren’t his style. Carlin could promise her boys the world if she wanted; if Damien did that, he would be accused of taking advantage of young girls. Double standards, but that was life. Besides, the very thought of tricking a girl into bed with him made him feel ill. Damien wanted willing participants, not girls who cried and wailed and blamed him for their mistake. He didn’t have the patience.

Thank Merlin he always had a pack of cards floating around his bag somewhere. Gambling was an old excuse of his for keeping attention if a conquest wasn’t susceptible to brash charisma. It was a good excuse to be a bad influence on someone; and Damien always enjoyed corruption in any form. “Do you remember the rules?” Damien asked patiently, deliberately fumbling with the cards before letting his skilled hands seem to remember the quick flash of movement that came from dealing with old expertise. He wouldn’t allow himself to appear a complete novice; his pride prickled uncomfortably even at the idea. “We won’t play for money. I never do unless it’s during a tournament, and you’re not one of the players from that anyway. Could get you a seat for a game or two if you’re interested and good at the game though; might be interesting experience for you.”