Classroom 11

[Draco Malfoy]

A classroom located down the corridor leading off the Entrance Hall on the side opposite the Great Hall. This is one of several unused classrooms on the ground floor. Dumbledore arranged for this room to look like the middle of a forest clearing; Firenze, who couldn't easily negotiate the stairs, taught Divination in this room. He could lower the lights and display a starry sky with a wave of his hand. (OP27)

[Pansy Parkinson]

Pansy entered the empty classroom and raised a brow. It looked the same as last year, a clearing in the forest.
Shrugging, she closed the door behind herself and sat on the ground, taking off her class notes to go over them.

[Amycus Carrow]

The door pushed open a few moments after the young witch, Amycus entering, for once the Death Eater not on the prowl, his attention on a letter in his hand as he scanned the words thoughtfully. On registering that he wasn't the only one here however his eyes snapped up, landing on the Slytherin girl he dimly recognised from the Death Eater Classroom.

"Parkinson, isn't it?" he drawled.

[Pansy Parkinson]

"Yes Professor, good evening," she said politely, looking up from her parchments when she heard the door open.

[Amycus Carrow]

The adult wizard tilted his head, contemplative gaze running over her from top to toe.

"Working hard to secure your House the cup?" he asked at last, lips curving in a sharp smile, dark eyes glinting a little with mocking amusement.

[Pansy Parkinson]

"No Sir, to understand a Transfiguration spell Professor Lestrange thought us today before I murder him with a flying mouse," she joked but her face dropped instantly when she recalled he too was a teacher.
"Sorry Professor," she blushed.

[Amycus Carrow]

Feb 18, 2014 10:51:32 GMT -5 Pansy Parkinson said:

"No Sir, to understand a Transfiguration spell Professor Lestrange thought us today before I murder him with a flying mouse," she joked but her face dropped instantly when she recalled he too was a teacher.
"Sorry Professor," she blushed.

"Oh?" he mused, letting the slightly flip answer pass by for now as his gaze turned idly curious. "And just what has dear Roddy got you up to I wonder?"

[Pansy Parkinson]

"Turning mice blood into water or acid," the Slytherin replied politely.
"The acid part is tricky though."

[Amycus Carrow]

Amycus tilted his head as he considered the girl before him. The assignment was a good one actually, it introduced some real dark magic and inventiveness while still adhereing to his topic and demanding control... he'd have to remember to compliment the man on that one.

Though honestly he doubted many would succeed. Though that was perhaps the point in itself - weed out those with potential from those without.

"Show me." the demand was delivered in a bored tone as he watched her. Really he doubted this one had any real tallent... well, besides on her back if the rumours were true, but still, she might surprise him. And if she didn't he'd just have to teach her, her mistakes. All in the name of edcation of course.

[Pansy Parkinson]

Pansy took in a sharp breath and took out a mouse from her bag. She had grabbed three for practice.
Placing it on the ground, she pointed her wand at it and murmured the spell.
As it had happened during class, the animal squealed (gods she hated that sound, it gave her shivers down the spine... and not the good kind), swallowed suddenly then started bumping against the ground and bushes around until it reached Pansy.
Dropping at her feet, the rodent started to melt.
"I just don't know how to stop it from bouncing around like crazy," she shook her head.

[Amycus Carrow]

Hmmm... better than he'd expected, but still nothing to write home about.

"Where are you focusing the spell?" he asked in an idle drawl as he moved to spawl out in a seat against the grassy tussock, the room's odd set up lacking any traditional chairs.

[Pansy Parkinson]

"Head, Professor," the girl replied, waving her wand to clean the mess.
"And Professor Lestrange said we shouldn't use a containment spell, so I can't combine the two."

[Amycus Carrow]

He actually snorted at her, lip lifting in distain at the stupidity before leaning forwards. The head? Seriously? And she couldn't figure out what was wrong? Besides which, surely anyone with half a brain would realise with blood based spells the heart was the logical place to start? It did half the work for you that way...

Kids... seriously...

"Are you really as thick as you look, Parkinson?" he scoffed shaking his head. "Use *your* head. Why is your casting making it move?"

[Pansy Parkinson]

She frowned, lost in thought for a bit, before she smacked her forehead.
"Bloody, pissing hell! The nervous system," she exclaimed.
"Thank you, Professor," she said, scribbling on her notes.

[Amycus Carrow]

"Watch that language," he drawled back at her as he leaned back again, flicking a hand to send out a non-verbal wandless spell, though surprisingly for him, all that happened was a sharp smack to the back of Pansy's head rather than something harsher. "Try agian, and curp your power. Torture is about subtlety. Taking your time with it and drawing it out. *Enjoy* what you're doing, the rest will fall into place itself."

[Pansy Parkinson]

She rubbed the back of the head, gazing at the wizard in surprise.
"Sorry Sir," she appologized and grabbed another mouse, placing it on the ground.
Breathing in deeply, she pointed her wand at it but didn't cast, trying to visualize the effect of the spell before.

[Amycus Carrow]

From his lounging position, Amycus waited for her attempt, watching her though half lidded, slightly bored eyes, his manic side seemingly for the moment dormant.

[Pansy Parkinson]

Pansy rotated her wrist swiftly, wand pointed at the mouse's heart and cast, shuddering at the agonizing cry of the animal as its bowels spilled on the ground and melted.
She gave a disgusted look at it.

[Amycus Carrow]

The death eater's lips curved up as he watched her, though his attention was fixed more on her expression than what she had achieved.

"Not pretty is it?" he asked her, tone light, coaxing. "Death... not all the beauty and glory that the fairy tales make it seem."

[Pansy Parkinson]

She looked up and gave a small smile.
"Not really, Professor," she chuckled lightly, stretching her leg on the ground. "Perhaps it is glorious in battle, when you fight for a cause," she added.
"Though I doubt anyone is of any use when they die instead of continuing to fight."

[Amycus Carrow]

Amycus shot her a droll look.

"Death is death sweet thing," he pointed out at her words, dry amusement tickling in his tone. "Doesn't matter if you shivel up in your bed covered in piss and vomit or you get cut down in your prime. The only way to make it beutiful is to cover it in blood and fill the air with screams... but if you're the one on the ground you won't be enjoying the beauty. You want to learn to enjoy death? Make sure you're the one making it all beautiful and not the one being torn appart."

[Pansy Parkinson]

"Fair point, Sir," Pansy chuckled.
"Do you... enjoy killing?" she asked, her cheeks on fire.

[Amycus Carrow]

He tilted his head at her question, cruel smile curving higher on his lips.

"Why?" he asked her, tone lilting slightly as his dark eyes ran over her person.

[Pansy Parkinson]

She shifted in place, he looked at her in a way... Pansy couldnt decide if it should bother her.
"I was wondering, that's all. You talk of it as a form of art," she replied.

[Amycus Carrow]

The dark haired wizard considered her a moment longer before finally hitching a lean shoulder.

"Killing is the end, the final note," he offered at last. "The ultimate finish. But it's like any truly beautiful, truly pleasurable thing in this world. Best savoured. I could cut you down right here right now, a single spell... but where would be the fun in that? The pleasure, the joy is in the build, in taking someone right to that edge and holding them there. There is no moment more intimate, nothing more beautiful than that instance."

[Pansy Parkinson]

"So... in order to get that intimate with someone, that person should be worth it," she mused. "You don't just take your time with anyone."

[Amycus Carrow]

Amycus offered her a slow, shark-like grin.

"Now you're begining to get it," he chuckled, dark eyes glinting with a kind of dangerous amusement.

[Pansy Parkinson]

"And that's what makes you a talented Death Eater," she gazed at her Professor, studying his face. It was her father, in his way, was trying to make her do... become a talented Death Eater.

[Amycus Carrow]

That won a small scoffing laugh from him.

"Oh how simple the world is through the eyes of a child," the wizard murmured, tone thick with amusement as he shook his head. "Yes, my skills at breaking people, and at killing are part of what make me a tallented death eater, but it is only part, Parkinson. To be valuable to the Dark Lord you need to be able to do more than kill, or what seperates you from the beasts he uses to fulfil his ends?"

[Pansy Parkinson]

"I'm not a child," Pansy frowned.
"That would be intelligence and cunning," she replied to his question, leaning back on her elbows and stretching her legs forward.