9:20 pm
Hogwarts Corridor
(then the lake)

Prefect pool party, the social event of opening semester. Sophie had the password by virtue of Ollie and was going to have herself a right good time. Knowing that so many (as in most every single one) of the Prefect was engaging in this activity Sophie wasn't quite as careful as maybe one ought to have been when half tip-toeing through the corridors and along moving staircases. There was a sort of freedom (though she kept a fair ear out for any professors that might want to know what she was doing). Lord help her if Professor Pony or Madame Morgan caught her. She could pretend to be helping Caity look for Jixy the cat...Caity would lie for her right? Probably. Hopefully. Really, besides the fact that Ollie felt weirdly out of place as a prefect (Sophie wondered if she felt weirdly out of place at school in general), there was the hope that Deus would be there. It was the sort of thing he would crash after all, or maybe it wasn't.

That was the troubling thing about Deres, you could never really count on him to move in a pattern. On the surface, yes, it might seem like a pool party in the Prefect's bathroom would be exactly the sort of thing he'd want to cash in on. At the same time it was also full of people who wouldn't hesitate to bust him, and everyone would expect him to crash. He didn't like to do the expected, he liked to zig when you were sure he was going to zag. It all made Sophie a little dizzy at the end of the day because trying to keep up with his whims was like trying to follow a weather vein in the middle of a wind storm. He'd turned her every which way but loose over the last two weeks. She liked to think she was doing alright but sometimes her apprehension got the best of her and she wanted to say sod it all. She might have, in fact, said that a few nights ago when she saw him flirting with Gracie.

He wasn't all she was thinking about, of course, there were classes, and SAWS, thinking about Hogwarts Players and if she wanted to go through that again this year, and Colton. Colton was a good thing that had come out of all this TWT nonsense and feeling overwhelmed by all the new people. Just catching a glimpse of his corkscrew curls made her day seem less desperate. Also, they were working together in Herbology, which was really nice. Ollie had made it through her first post-return-to-Hogwarts full moon and seemed little worse for the wear. Sophie worried of course because... well Sasha was going to be a problem... but maybe it would all be o.k., maybe he'd start to understand (Sophie wasn't holding her breath). Just thinking about Werewolves and monsters and general ugliness caused Sophie's skin to prickle, she was scaring herself silly and nearly screamed as someone caught her around the waist and clasp a hand over her mouth.

The thing with prefects was, well, they wanted you to behave. Or at least lord over you the fact they could punish you if you didn’t. Not that anyone should get Deus wrong—he actually quite approved of the choice for Head Boy this year. Comer was a bit of an odd duck, but his mix of sarcasm and smarts amused Deus, and at least he wasn’t a total stuffed shirt. And Jazz wasn’t so bad. Deus figured she’d be too busy with the Players to do much rule enforcing, which was just fine and dandy by him.

But there wasn’t much fun in crashing a party that was easy enough to get into—which, based on the number of non-prefects Deus had heard discussing plans to attend, this one qualified as.

The secret to beign unpredictable, Deus had learned, was the occasional indulgence in random whim. Too often—you forgot caution and got yourself into trouble. Too little—life was nu fun, and you got pegged into patterns that could be taken advantage of. Here and there was just enough to put the edge on your balance and keep things interesting. So when a certain persistently problematic brunette breezed passed—wearing his sweater and not much else, he noted with amusement—and the Slytherin boy was seized by a whim, he decided he was due to follow an impulse. And although it occurred to him, not for the first time in the past couple of months, that indulging in Sophie Flickwick could become a hard habit to break, his mind was decided.

The dry smoky bite of a cigarette still hung on his breath, and might have given him away in his shadowy nook by the statue of a stately vampire if the Gryffindor pixie hadn’t been so absorbed in her own thoughts. Immensely entertained that she went right past him, he took a quick moment to guess at what was on her mind. Ollie, no doubt. Put Soph next to Ruby and there would be no question who the nurturing motherly instincts settled in, but Sophie had something of it nonetheless. It was just different. Less mothery, more champion-y.

The best he could come up with—and he’d attempted to define it a few times, ignoring the vague irritation that came with having a girl fill up his thoughts when she wasn’t around and he had other things to do (mainly, not get eaten by sea monsters and not get blown up by stolen property)—was a herding dog. Peppy, adorable, ready to face down a pack of predators for you one minute, and then turning immediately around and nipping your fluffy little tail off the minute you stepped out of line.

As usual, Deus suspected it would be best if he kept his analogies regarding Sophie’s nature to himself. Although she did like dogs, far as he could tell.

Well, Ollie was a big girl, and more than capable of surviving her fellow students for a few hours without her champion. Catching the popular pipsqueak by herself was too inviting an opportunity to pass up.

Because it was so very clear she didn’t know he was there, Deus preemptively placed a hand over Sophie’s mouth as he stepped out of his nook in the shadows, wrapping his other proprietarily around her waist. She gratified his actions most beautifully with a near scream he could feel ripple through her, and he didn’t even bother trying to hide the wide, wicked grin that pulled on his lips. In a single fluid motion, he scooped up Sophie and tossed her sdummarily over his shoulder like a ransacked princess. “Och, Soph. Donnae be so jumpy—folk’ll t’ink Ah’m kidnappin’ ye.”

He was, of course.

Kicking the base of the statue he’d slipped out from Deus chirped, “Mulberry Bicklebats,” and then hauled his prize down and into the eerily lit, narrow passageway the stately vampire statue stepped aside to reveal before returning to its post. He kept Sophie over his shoulder, and if the hand holding her in place was perhaps a bit lower than was precisely proper, the arm around her was sturdy and solid enough that she was in no danger of dropping.

The path was a shortcut, winding underneath the murky waters of the lake like a glass muggle aquarium tube, to emerge on the far side where a soft, warm rain fell in quiet, wt splats. The distant rumble of thunder was too far away to trouble them yet.

Her muffled scream turned to a mildly irritated growl - smells suddenly familiar, she knew exactly who had her. She tried to nip at his hand, but before she could get a good hold on the skin with her teeth he was hefting her over his shoulder like a sack of flour. He trusted her not to scream enough to leave her mouth uncovered...she wanted to see him badly enough she didn't make him regret that choice. It was only once they were down the corridor that seemed to lead under the lake that she hissed over her shoulder at him, "If we're already married why the feck are you hauling me off like a Viking bride"? It was easy to pretend to be mad at him, at least a little. She didn't want him to know that her stomach was tied up in knots and the possibility of seeing him had been a huge motivator in going to the stupid party.

It did occur to her that she'd be leaving Ollie hanging. That probably wasn't the best thing. The stress of term was obviously getting Foley, the first SAWS meeting had felt like a disaster...now there was Zel to think about and respecting his privacy while trying to help him. She'd sent off a batch of letters just before leaving the tower actually. She wondered if Deus ever thought about things, other people, outside the realm of good dirty fun. She suspected, in his own way, he did... but it wasn't the kind of way that Sophie was used to. She just wanted Ollie and the rest to be happy this year, to be granted a reprieve from the harsh reality of being separated from their peers. Maybe Fig was right, maybe she did take it all too seriously. When she thought of the shame on Zel's face she wondered how anyone could not take it seriously.

"Also, you're takin' liber'ies, that hand is dangerously close to my bu-" she was stopped mid-complaint as he placed her gently on the ground. Well at least he hadn't dropped her. It was dark out but she could see his face, that wicked heart stopping grin he had. He was happy to see her, of course he always looked happy to see most people - even Professor Storm so maybe that look was meaningless. It made her heart beat faster though, her stomach tie up in confusing knots. She wasn't going to do things like this with him anymore. She had made up her mind hadn't she? No, she'd just looked herself in the eye and lied about not wanting to see him anymore. He was awful, but that was maybe the best part. You never knew what could happen with Deus... but even when it was bad it was always fun. She needed that, and by extension needed a part of him.

Turning her face toward the sky, slow plump raindrops landed on her lashes. It was cold out, colder than the castle and she found herself shivering despite the over sized sweater she'd never bothered to give back to the boy. Her own smile matched his then, turned up just at the corners of her lips as she reached out and gentle tugged on the front of his shirt, "So how many times have you absconded with innocent girls- actually, never mind. Don't answer that," there was a half laugh as she stood on her tip toes, lips almost brushing his as she slid an arm around his neck, "I don't want to have to hate you yet," her tone was teasing but there was a teaspoon or two of truth in there. Sophie had a known jealous streak a mild wide. It wouldn't be hard for her to turn the joke into an all out fight, and she'd rather spend her time getting snogged good and proper than bickering with him.