Craven was pacing moodily back and forth in the dungeons. It was really the only place he was welcome anymore. Although those from the family had not been expelled from Hogwarts, tensions between the sides still ran high and he had been a proud family member.

He sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair. He had survived the battle because he had been stunned, if he'd have been fighting he was sure he would have died. He had failed his cause and now he was even more outcast for it; plus now his sister was a blood traitor. Surprisingly enough all he wanted now was someone to talk to; the loner wanted a friend...

Cicily never understood why people disliked the dungeons; sure they were cold, dark and quiet, but Cicily found those features quite attractive. She got more privacy there than she did in her own dorm room, where the other 5th year girls were always bothering her. Today, she was in no mood for their annoyance. She was feeling down and in a general bad mood.

She crept through the dark halls with her pen and notebook, hoping to find a quiet spot in the shadows where she could take her mind off everything by sketching or writing poetry. To her surprise, she found someone occupying her usual spot.

“Blackwood.” She acknowledged her fellow housemate with a nod. What was he doing here? Cicily was annoyed, but she tried to be nice to him. She didn’t know him that well. In fact, she rarely took notice of him. She didn’t want to ask him what the hell he was doing there, so she just stood rather awkwardly, at a loss for words.

He sighed mentally, not in annoyance but in an attempt to be outwardly nice, a conflict to his usual personality. He needed someone right now in his life, just for company. Before he had always had his friend and sister now he had neither. He extended his hand forward in greeting for her to shake.

"Nitely, right? What brings you to the dungeons, other than the common room?" His voice was its usual monotone though it seemed as if he had attempted to add a polite edge to it; which he had. His eyes scanned the area surrounding him, this was his favorite spot in the dungeons, the quietest darkest spot....

Cicily scanned him up and down, observing him critically. Her eye lingered on his out stretched hand for a moment, before she reached out to shake it lightly. She smirked.

“I’m sure you of all people should know why someone would come down here,” Cicily said. “It’s hard to get any time alone around here.” Shrugging, Cicily made herself comfortable on the floor in a comfortable little corner. She propped her notebook on her legs and opened to a blank page.

“Care to join me?” Cicily said, smiling. She figured she should be nice to him. She hadn’t had a stimulating conversation in days.
Craven did look a bit stressed, or maybe that’s just what he always looked like. Cicily had never really looked at him, let alone talk to him.

He watched as she smirked, noticing the way her mouth moved; every Sltheryin seemed to have there own smirk. He was sure it came with the house. He shook her hand lightly in return when she accepted his greeting, nodding his head lightly at her reasons. He had come down here for space but upon reaching his favorite spot he realised he wanted company.

"The common room is full to the brim with noise i take it?" His deep voice had a cheeky edge to it, he didn't really dislike anyone from his house and he made sure Nitely was aware he was joking by adding the cheekiness in. Plus it was helping him relax a little.

He dropped to the floor at the side of her with a soft thud and sat with his left knee raised and the other stretched flat; his right hand resting across the right knee. Almost like he was sat on the common room sofa lounging about. He gestured to the notepad; noticing it was definitely not a school work notepad.

"Are you a sketcher or a writer? Or something else entirely."

“I’d like to say ‘everything’, but yeah, art is my thing.” Cicily said, putting her pen to her lips as she thought of something to draw. She realized then that maybe she should have brought her pencil, but it was too late now. She leaned back and looked at the ceiling for a bit, before turning to Craven.

“Care for a demonstration? I’ll draw you, if you want,” Cicily offered. “I’ve been practicing profiles, see.” Plus, she couldn’t think of anything to draw. She liked doing sceneries, but the dungeon was a bit too boring for her tastes.

He attempted to glimpse the pad, to see if any work was in it, but she had already turned to a clean page before he could do so. Her watched her with the pen curiously wondering whether she was going to draw with a muggle pen, though he supposed it was better than trying to draw with a quill.

" a Slytherin artist; no wonder you like the quiet...Any good then?" His voice though deep int one seem lighter and more friendly, like he had finally settled into the whole conversation thing many people seemed to do.

He fished about in the pockets of his uniform trousers before withdrawing a rather short pencil, that was obviously used a lot; if only for doodles and diagrams. It was no artists pencil.

"You can if you like, though I'd prefer you don't mention i let you. Would ruin my loner image you see. And i need that lately" He smirked and laughed a very little before offering the pencil towards her. "Not really an artists pencil but one all the same."

Cicily snorted at his ‘any good?’ remark. Of course she was good. Just ask all the teachers who had caught her sketching their portraits in the middle of class. Oh well, she always made it up to them by giving them a portrait and a very well-written essay on what she did and why she should never do it again. It was easy.

Cicily laughed a bit at what he had said and accepted his pencil. Indeed, it was no pencil Cicily had ever owned; it was well worn and quite short. All of Cicily’s pencils were black and sharpened until the tip was just perfect. This would have to do, though.

“Thanks,” Cicily said more casually. “Now if you could just turn your head – face that wall, see – I can get started.” She directed Craven towards the wall in front of them with a vague head nod.

She positioned the pencil onto her paper. She was going to focus on just his head, and his head only, and drawing his profile. Cicily hoped she wouldn’t screw up too badly, which would be embaressing beyond belief.

He did as she asked, turning to face the wall without complaint. Which was a first. Mind you he had always gotten along better with fellow house mates.

"This okay?" it was an attempt at being friendly. So far he wasn't doing so badly; for someone who was usually alone he was doing quiet well at actually putting the effort into interacting.

He refrained from smirking at the idea of mentally admitting that. He supposed he was allowed friends now and again. It was his choice to be a loner but mainly her personality. His mismatched eyes staring silently at the wall as he pondered over what exactly he should say.

"I suppose you often draw random strangers?"