Slytherin Claims the Prize (accepting | OPEN)

[the closer you L O O K]

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OPEN

Hello everyone! I hope you had a fantastic summer, and you have come to Hogwarts ready for a new year! I know that last year ended on a bad note, so to try and inspire confidence that everything will be all right, there's going to be a Halloween Ball this year! You should have gotten the invitation with your letter from Hogwarts, so I hope you all got dress robes! In the meantime, enjoy the lovely train ride back to school!

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[the closer you L O O K]

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❝ indent It was a quiet morning at the Dursleys. It had been quiet a lot since the beginning of this summer. Over the last fourteen years, Harry had been patient with the Dursleys, which was saying a lot since they put him through more crap than eighty percent of Hogwarts, including Snape. Unfortunately for them, they didn't read his expression and body language when he returned. Obviously emotionally, physically, and psychologically exhausted upon returning from Hogwarts, they ignored all of this and set right to work insulting, prying, and prodding him like they always did. Of course, their precious Dudley was a behemoth, but Harry had been in enough fights at Hogwarts now to know how to take someone that size down without much struggle at all. A trip to the hospital, one broken arm, and one broken rib later, he had his first summer of peace and quiet... which was worse than being nagged by them. He spent most of his time in his bedroom or at the playground down the street. He didn't get one single letter all summer, not that he really expected to... no, that was a lie. He got letters from Sirius. They were more confusing than he'd like them to be. Cryptic, distant, yet supportive, they succeeded in doing nothing but frustrating the boy off even more.

indent He wrote to Dumbledore several times. Nothing from them. Absolutely nothing. It was as if he never existed. He could just imagine all of his friends going home to their Death Eater parents and being turned against him one by one. Most of his friends' parents he had seen that night in the Graveyard... s**t... He thought, resting his elbow on his desk and pinching the bridge of his nose. Sirius had mentioned wanting to come and get him so he could live with the Order of the Phoenix, but he could tell by the tones and word choices that the Order didn't trust him. He didn't blame them. He wasn't sure what to do. The only people he knew and loved were all on one side, and he was daring to take a stand against them? How could he? He stared at the pile of letters he had begun to write to Draco. All of them said the same thing: Draco,. That was it. That was as far as he had gotten on each and every one of them. What could he say to him? His best friend could very possibly try to deliver him to Voldemort today.

indent A quiet knock resounded on the door and Aunt Petunia's squeaky voice spoke quietly and fearfully through the wood, "The cab's here, Harry."

indent Even the Dursleys were afraid of him.

indent Rolling his eyes, he pushed himself to his feet and grabbed his trunk before pulling open the door. Petunia had already scurried away to hide in her room until Harry left. Pathetic. He sighed deeply before descending the stairs. No one was downstairs, either. He was tempted to call up, to say goodbye, but he decided not to. It was pointless. Shaking his head, he turned and headed out to the cab.

indent After what seemed like an eternity, the cab pulled up to King's Cross and Harry was dispensed. He almost wished he could get back in the cab and drive around the block a few times. He didn't have time, though. He had already waited as long as possible to get on the train. Taking a deep breath, he let it out as a sigh before heading through the barrier and stepping onto the Platform. Everywhere, people were buzzing about, greeting each other excitedly and giving hugs. Harry felt a few eyes on him, and it wasn't the good kind he was used to. He swore his scar was acting up again, but it wasn't... he was becoming paranoid. He grimaced before making his way onto the train, dropping his trunk off before heading down the hall to try and find an empty room.

indent He passed a few with a couple of Hufflepuffs. They glared at him skeptically. He wanted to flip them off, but he decided against it and just kept moving, praying not to run into Draco. He didn't want to see him yet. He didn't know what to think yet. ❞


With: | Where: | Wearing: threads






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[the closer you L O O K]

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❝ indent "Sounds like the transmission."

indent "Nah. More like the pistons." Adrian said, eyeing the car raised up on the lift that his father was currently hanging out of. It was quiet for a moment, then the man nodded, clearly impressed. "You're right. Good call." He turned the car off and dropped back down before turning to his son with a smile. "How am I supposed to run this place without you? My hearing isn't what it used to be." He said, clasping his hand on Adrian's shoulder before heading towards the storage to make sure they had the right parts for the repair. "You're the best mechanic in town, Da. I wouldn't worry about it." He smirked with a roll of his eyes, moving under the car to gaze up at the engine. "She's a beauty, though. I'll definitely miss working on her." He sighed, then turned to his dad thoughtfully. "You and Ma will be all right without me here." He said, reaching up and wiping some grime off the exhaust pipe. "You two need to work it out." His parents had been fighting more often than not lately, and they didn't know it, but he had heard them mention divorce a few times.

indent His father looked startled by his son's words, but smiled softly and nodded. "I'll never let your Ma leave, Adrian." He assured the boy. Nodding slowly, Adrian looked his father in the eye for a moment, then glanced at the clock on the wall. "All right, let's hurry up and get these pistons out. I have to leave in two hours."

indent Two hours later, Adrian picked at the grime under his fingernails as his mother kissed his cheek tearfully. She always got emotional when he left, but he had a feeling she was more scared than lonely this time. He had told them about Cedric and what had happened last year, and they weren't too thrilled about sending him back. They had tried several times to transfer him to a muggle school, but he didn't know anything about muggle subjects. It wouldn't work anymore. So, they finally conceded and told their son he could do what he wanted to do. He chose Hogwarts.

indent Kissing her back softly, he turned to his Dad and smiled a bit. Roughly, his father pulled him into a tight hug and held him close for several long seconds. Adrian didn't fight it. Parents needed this kind of s**t. When he was finally released, he gave a mock salute to the both of them. "I'll be back for Christmas." He assured them, then turned and headed through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. As usual, it was buzzing with activity. Immediately, he glanced around for Asher. Someone ran into his shoulder rather hard, but Adrian only turned a bit instead of falling like he normally would. This summer had been a good summer for him. He had shot up about three more inches and due to working out two hours a day, he had bulked up.

indent The Slytherin turned and shot him a look. The Gryffindor refused to acknowledge his existence. There would be plenty of time to fight them later for s**t like that. He left his trunk with the others outside of the luggage compartment, then lifted himself up on the stairs so he could see the crowd. There. Asher was with his parents a couple cars down. Dropping back down, Adrian moved through the crowd until he came out next to Asher. "Ah! There you are! Holy s**t, man! You're huge!" His friend flinched as soon as he spoke, and Adrian realized it was because his mother had slapped Asher upside the head. "Language!" She yelled disapprovingly, causing Asher to smile innocent and Adrian to smirk. If only she knew what he did during the year... poor woman thought her son was this innocent sweetheart...

indent "All right, well I won't keep you here any longer. You two have a good year, and stay out of trouble." She smiled, giving Asher and Adrian a hug before motioning for them to get on the train. They did, and she disappeared from sight after Asher waved to her one more time. "Damn, so embarrassing." Asher laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "She found my weed under my mattress a couple weeks ago. I convinced her it was magical tea leaves for Divination." He snickered, and Adrian just smirked again and rolled his eyes. "You should really just tell her you're an a*****e. It'd save you both a lot of pain and energy." He chuckled, making Adrian punch him on the arm. "Not an a*****e." He grunted.

indent "Fine. Not an a*****e. Just a lying, manwhore b*****d." He chuckled, then quickly dodged another attack and ducked into an empty compartment. Asher shook his head with a smile, then plopped down across from his friend, resting his feet on the male's lap only to have them shoved off. "So touchy." He smirked, eyeing Adrian suspiciously. It was silent in the car for several minutes before Asher sighed quietly. "How are you doing, Aidge?" He asked, using the nickname for Adrian. "You doing okay?" He knew Cedric and Adrian had been close, and he could see that Adrian was working double time to keep the pain of being on the train without looking for Diggory off his features.

indent Adrian painted a smile on his face and nodded. "Yeah... yeah I'll be all right. No worries." He just hoped that was true...

indent Asher stared at him for a long moment, then sighed before peeking his head out the door at the sound of a familiar voice. Immediately, a grin spread across his features and he sprang to his feet. "Ginny! Get your pretty a** in here and sit with us! Don't make me come and throw you over my shoulder and drag you in here!" He called down to her loudly, making Adrian wince at the loudness of it. Adrian didn't mind Ginny at all. She was funny and a typical Weasley, really, but for some reason around him she never talked much. Who knew why? He didn't think much on it. She didn't really know him that well, he supposed. ❞





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[Smile C I E L]

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It was the first time in a while since her daddy couldn’t see her off at the train. It was perfectly alright, though. The next issue of the Quibbler was due to press in a week. Many times, her father had stressed to Luna that she was less important than the magazine. Given the events of the previous year, however, the importance of truth in a sea of conspiracies was ever-increasing. The ministry was holding far too many secrets, and the Quibbler was the one haven where they couldn’t stop the freedom of the press with behind-the-scenes hobnobbing.

This pressing need had been the reason why Luna needed to travel to the station, alone. She had been one of the few people to approach Kings Cross on foot. A good deal of the journey, she’d made through means that wizards wouldn’t dare check, like boats. With all of the portkey interference and the ministry’s ever-increasing involvement in the floo network, they hadn’t been willing to trust either of them. In order to fix this problem, her father had given her a letter.

If a wizard were to have passed by Luna walking down the corridor of King’s Cross, they may have thought she was speaking to a piece of enchanted parchment without any care. She was holding the letter no less than an inch away from her nose, and she was as distantly engrossed in speaking to it as she was most people. Any muggle who passed by would have thought her insane. Between the vibrant red and orange of her coat, her misshapen sunglasses that she had continued to wear indoors, and the giant sticker-covered trunk she was rolling behind her, she gave off the distinct impression of being just mad enough to have no perspective on her own insanity. She also appeared to be speaking to a piece of paper as if it could talk back to her.

Oddly enough, the muggle perspective on the whole thing was closer to true. She really was speaking to a letter her father had written to her, one which had no active ability to convey the message back to him. Still, it felt more natural to reply to his words, so, she did; speaking to herself all the way through platform 9 and ¾.

”Of course I’ll be safe, daddy. Heliopaths dislike Scottish climates. I’m far more concerned there’ll be someone over exposing the bumblebee cover-up,” Luna had continued to assure the letter as she strolled past the other people. Somehow, she managed to avoid bumping into the other students or their parents who had made it to see them off. Perhaps the abundance of orange had let her serve as a warning sign. If so, she had no idea.

She told the paper an assuring, polite ”I plead your pardon,” as she tucked it under her arm, allowing her to drop her luggage off in the proper place. Hardly five seconds of getting her trunk situated later, she picked the paper back up, pulled one hand on either side of it to smooth the wrinkles out, and held it right back up to her face while she headed on board the train. ”Where was I? …. Yes. Thank you. Cast a shield charm around the windows. Don’t close the ones on the east side, though. We wouldn’t want to trap the humdingers…” Luna passed by a few compartments, not that she had noticed. A few of the students who had managed to make it on board certainly noticed her. One of the younger ones who didn’t know better started to point at her and ask his friends, who quickly convinced him to put his hand down and stop gawking before Ginny showed up.

If there was one thing which Luna really should have been thankful for, it was her friendship with Ginny Weasley. She’d been spared a lot of harassment because of her. The harassment itself continued from time to time, but never in a way which Luna had cared much about. She had a special talent for being simultaneously perceptive on others emotional states and completely ambivalent towards their negative opinions of her.

This ambivalence may have been the reason why, when Luna had finally finished wishing her letter ”I love you too, daddy. We’ll write at a moment,” and lifted her head up, she hadn’t seemed remotely taken aback by the particularly sour-looking Slytherin in front of her.

To anyone who was paying attention, Harry Potter had a reputation. Luna had known about that part as well. She simply lacked the fear that may have made her walk the other way. Instead, she’d paused in step. She turned her head over her shoulder to face him in spite of already having strolled past him moments ago. The expression he was wearing tried to give another warning for him to be left be.

”You shouldn’t face that window. It’s west. The sluagh can reach you, there. You’d really rather they not,” Luna suggested, not sounding concerned so much as distant and airy. She stared up at the famous face with widened eyes that somehow suggested no more awe at him than she had towards the rest of the world. She hadn’t quite seemed to be looking at him so much as around him at first. Her attention then shifted towards the window, which she turned away from.

Luna turned slightly away from where she had been standing. She reached a hand towards her left ear, took out her feathered earring and hooked it on the front of Harry’s shirt. She pat her hand over the top of it to check it was secure, barely brushing him. ”Here. It carries a charm of protection,” she stated, this time managing to make her suggestion sound vaguely reminiscent of assuring.

Before there was much of a chance for her to hear Harry’s reply, Luna re-oriented herself to face away from the western window. She continued to pace through the hallway of the express, heading off in search of a compartment of her own or her friends. After about three steps, she reached into her pocket for an umbrella, opened it up and twirled it once counter-clockwise over her head. Only she could've explained why.



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[ where ? || hogwarts express corridor ] [ who ? || spoke to harry, now alone ] [ feeling ? || good ] [ outfit ]

[Smile C I E L]

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There was very little Theodore Nott wanted more than for this conversation to end as quickly as possible.

In the crowd of students standing at the platform, it was plenty easy for Theodore to blend in. Even with his red hair, which he would continue to curse under muttered breath for half of his days, yet never bothered changing, he could easily get lost in the crowd. It wasn’t as if many of the other students took the effort to know that the sixty-five year old with a salt and pepper beard barking at him was his father. Anyone who made eye contact with the guy could’ve sensed to leave him alone. From the way his arms were crossed to his black robes and all the way to the wrinkle at the left side of his mouth when he sneered by default while speaking, everything about him screamed he was a wealthy man who wanted to be left alone. Not even Harry would’ve recognized this man—but that was only because he’d opted to wear his robes over his face when he’d attended a certain ceremony no more than three months ago.

It really was a happy day for both of them, then, that Theodore was going to be leaving for school. Theodore because he wanted to stay as far away from his father’s limited tyranny as possible, and his father because Theodore could be his eyes inside Hogwarts. It was that second motivation which lead Theo’s father to direct his sharpened, beady-eyed stare through his glasses and down to his son. The look of skeptical expectation would’ve made far more sense to give a slacking employee than his own kid.

”I expect a letter in five hours or fewer, from school. If you send it from the train, I’ll know,” he demanded, his words at just the right volume to be heard without being whispered or projected father than directly between them.

Theodore returned the stare with as much apathy as he could muster. ”Yes, father,” he tried not to slur with disinterest.

”You know what to write,” his father stressed.

”What you told me, with slight embellishments for artistic effect,” Theodore tried not to sound too sarcastic. They had gone over this so many times, and in less ambiguous language, that what he really wanted to write was a string of curse words which could get him disinherited on the spot.

Even with Theodore trying to hold his tongue, his father could tell the difference. He sent him a glare to represent the threat of a hex that was barely forgivable enough not to be illegal. In spite of that, Theodore’s sense of self-preservation wasn’t strong enough to get him past an ambivalent shrug back.

”If you want me to keep saying yes, I can get you a parrot. ‘D be easier to spot than an owl,” Theodore dismissed.

Theodore had hardly managed to finish half of the statement before his father grabbed him by the shoulder. From afar, it might have looked like a supportive pat, plus a pull forward into what could have been a hug. In reality, it was supposed to be a threat. His father kept him close long enough to whisper at him with considerably more verbal venom in his tone. ”My eyesight was never the concern,” he’d practically hissed.

No wonder Theodore was a Slytherin, he’d thought. He was descended from people who could sound like snakes without even knowing parseltongue.

After a good ten seconds, Theodore’s father loosened his grip. He let Theodore lean back to the same, well-postured yet completely disinterested stance he’d been in before. ”Would you prefer I opt for a tutor and advertise your failure?” he asked sternly.

Theodore suppressed the urge to shrug or call his father an arsehole to his face. ”No.”

”Please, elaborate,” his father stressed.

Theodore hid a sigh in his tone. He folded his arms across each other, fidgeting to stall for time. ”No, father patriarch, sir.”

”If you don’t behave yourself at that school, I will have you pulled out. Do you understand?” his father stressed.

”A howler couldn’t state it louder.” Theodore’s eyes shifted slightly at the end of that statement, desperate to look anywhere but at the disappointment on his father’s face. He had no idea how many of the students at this school who passed this scene thought that his grandfather was the one seeing him off, instead. He certainly looked the part.

As close to satisfied as he realistically expected to be, Theodore’s father gave him one more pat, this one on the head, pushing a few of his slicked-back bangs right back over his face in the process. It looked like a gesture of affection. Maybe that was what it was supposed to be. Whatever the intent, his father’s voice had still sounded more like a demand to Theodore than anything else. ”Good. Go. Make me proud.” Or, more accurately, as far from disgusted as he could manage.

Theodore nodded his head, swallowing whatever arguments he wanted to make. If anyone in this school tried to treat him the way his father did, he would’ve been openly insulting them long, long ago. Instead, Theodore had rolled his eyes the second he’d turned enough to face away from his father. He grabbed the small satchel of lunch and books he’d packed himself for the trip, grabbed his owl’s cage by the handle and trudged his way away from his father to board the Hogwarts express.

Even when Theodore found his way on board, there was an abundance of noise. What had outside been a lot of heartfelt goodbyes had inside become eager hellos. Evidently, the events of the previous year hadn’t stopped most of the students from missing their friends. Supposedly, that was one of the few benefits of having friends at Hogwarts, that they’d make the school year more enjoyable. Honestly, Theodore’d never seen the point in that. He was already having a fine time at school on the grounds that it was the closest he got to having his father shut up.

Less than a minute of searching later, Theodore’s tolerance for the noise had given way to relief at the sight of an empty compartment. He shut the door behind him, set his owl’s cage on the floor, kicked his feet up on the opposite seat and cracked open a brand-new book called ‘magical maladies: the encyclopedia of illnesses, vol 3”. The dust jacket he had covered it with, however, was a book on Quidditch techniques.

The less people knew about him, the better. It meant he got to insult them without them being on base with any claims about him.



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[ where ? || compartment on the hogwarts express ] [ who ? || alone ] [ feeling ? || quietly irritated ] [ outfit ]

[foreverspooky666]

D r a c o | M a l f o y


//x IF I SAY I WOULDN'T BE HOSTILE
xxxxWOULD YOU SAY YOU WOULD DO THE SAME?
xxxxxxxxxxxIF WE'RE ALL MADE JUST A LITTLE BIT BROKEN
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx TELL ME, WHO IS TO BLAME?x //

"I'll be fine, mother." Draco Malfoy's voice, normally so cold and arrogant, was softer and more gentle as he spoke to his mother. Narcissa frowned at him, worry still etched on her features. After everything that had happened last year and given Draco's attitude over the summer, he knew she was afraid of what might happen at school. He hadn't cared much for Cedric but the fact that a student had died hadn't eased his mind of the Dark Lord's return.

The Death Eaters had been visiting their manor frequently, meeting with his father. Plans were being made, and Draco was couldn't help but feel as if he was being treated like a child whenever the Death Eaters were around. He feigned calm indifference but a feeling of anxiety gnawed away at his insides. There was no telling what would become of the upcoming school year.

Harry hadn't been responding to his letters over the summer; he couldn't fathom why. The two had been best friends since their first year at Hogwarts and had stuck together through thick and thin. Aside from Pansy Parkinson, his best friend's ex girlfriend, Harry was the only person he trusted. It seemed their friendship was being tested and it was starting to make Draco increasingly frustrated.

"Come, Draco." He almost jumped at the sound of his father's voice, heart going cold. He turned, an unreadable expression on his face to see Lucius standing in the foyer. Draco nodded once, walking in step with his mother to where his father was waiting. He felt his father's hand rest on his shoulder, his mother's going to grip his forearm gently, the three walking out to the waiting Ministry car.

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King's Cross station was bustling with movement, Draco's things piled onto a trolley. He let his father lead the way as usual, feeling his mother close by his side. Once the coast was clear, he walked briskly through the wall to Platform 9 and 3/4, met with sounds of students waiting for the train. He didn't spot Harry, which irked him greatly, and instead turned to say goodbye to his parents. His mother touched his chin affectionately and he nodded at her, turning to meet his father's gaze. No words were exchanged, they hardly were, and he let his trolley be taken care of by an attendee.

Once on the train, he began searching for an empty compartment, or at least looking around for his friend. Finally his eyes locked onto a familiar mess of dark hair, as well as the blonde lunatic of the school, and he went straight towards them. A hand went to clap Harry firmly on the back, smirking.

"Well, well. Look who it is." Draco's tone was cool once more, his eyes appraising The Boy Who Lived. "Been avoiding me, have you?"

xxstanding on ashes from the fires you've made,
xx burning your bridges just to save your face

[foreverspooky666]

G i n n y / W e a s l e y

╬xxxxtell me where you're hiding your voodoo doll, cause i can't control myself
xxxxxxxxxi dont wanna stay, i wanna run away, but i'm trapped under your spell
xxxxxxxxxxxand it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest
xxxxxxxxxxxxxand i'm having trouble catching my breath
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxwon't you please stop loving me to death?

Last year had been difficult to say the least at Hogwarts. Everyone was mourning the death of Cedric Diggory, someone Ginny hadn't known personally but he was a sweetheart from what she could tell. And Harry, though he acted so coldly to the other students, had appeared broken up about his passing. Rumors of the Dark Lord's return were flying, but the Minister of Magic was refusing to believe it.

Ginny herself found it hard to believe as well, but that was mostly out of fear of it being true. Nobody knew what really happened in the graveyard the Portkey had taken the two boys to, after all. Add that to the terrible thought the Dark Lord might really be back and, well. . . People in the magical world were more inclined to say Harry had killed Cedric himself, which was a nasty rumor. No matter how horrid someone seemed to be, she truly felt that murder was something the Slytherin boy wasn't capable of.

Not that she knew him well enough to say.

"OY! Ginny, are you done piling makeup on your face?" Ron was banging on the door to her room, making her jump in the midst of curling her hair around her wand. She scowled at her reflection before rounding on him as he barged in.

"Depends. Are you done being a prat, Ronald?" she said, her voice far too sweet in contrast to her words. He rolled his eyes at the youngest Weasley.

"Mum says the car's downstairs, so - "

"GINEVRA WEASLEY, YOU HAD BEST BE ON YOUR WAY DOWN OR SO HELP ME - "

"Coming, mum! For heaven's sake. . . " Ginny shooed Ron from her room before gathering her bag, storming down the stairs while grumbling under her breath.

-----

The ride to King's Cross was loud, almost as loud as the station itself, and Ginny tried to make herself one with the seat as she was squished between her mother and father in the front. Ron was muttering about getting a bigger car next year from the back, glaring daggers as the twins tried to play a game of exploding snap just to annoy him. A sigh left the ginger girl's lips, arms folded tightly over the big sweater her mother insisted she throw over her cute floral jumper.

When they finally were free of the car, she clambered over her mother, much to Molly Weasley's disdain, and began loading everything onto a trolley. She didn't even wait for her family before darting off to the platform, a grin lighting her face at the sight of the crimson Hogwarts Express. She said goodbye quickly, ignoring her mother's further protests about the short jumper, giving her father a tight hug. "See you at the feast, boys," she called with a wave, scurrying onto the train to seek out familiar faces while peeling the stuffy green sweater off her torso.

No sooner had she gotten aboard that she heard someone yelling for her. "Ginny! Get your pretty a** in here and sit with us! Don't make me come and throw you over my shoulder and drag you in here!" Asher's voice was loud as always and she doubled back, doing a little twirl and giving a wiggle of her hips. She smirked at the boy and leaned against the frame.

"Is that a promise, Ash?" she said coyly, raising her brow. She caught sight of Adrian sitting across from him, immediately ducking her head and going to tuck some hair behind her ear. What was it about him that made her feel so self confident? She smoothed down the front of her jumper before settling beside Asher, sending Adrian a smile. "How were your summers? Chased any more tail and broken poor girl's hearts?" Her dark amber eyes appraised Asher at the end of her question.

But her gaze was soon back on Adrian, studying him as slyly as she could and interested in his response. He was cute, one of the most attractive boys at the school, and the past few months had obviously been good to him. As if the Gryffindor wasn't built enough, he had filled out considerably this summer. "You look. . . Well, fit. Not that you weren't before! I mean. . . . Just more fit." Ginny looked down, mentally smacking herself. She never found talking to - or more precisely flirting with - a boy this difficult.

[phantom cipher]

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Hermione clambered down the steps and into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of toast from her father's plate as he sat with the morning paper blocking his view. Her mother noticed and shot her a look. "Oh no you don't. You're sitting down and eating a real breakfast," she scolded, setting a plate down at the table for her. Hermione sighed. "But mum you know how traffic is this time of day we're going to be late." Her mother just gestured to the plate and Hermione shut her mouth, picking up her silverware before spotting a letter in the middle of the table with her name on it.

"That came this morning," her father explained, seeing her notice it. She set her knife and fork down and picked it up. "Is it that boy again, the one you met from another school?" She could hear the disapproval in his tone meanwhile her mother was clearly eavesdropping with interest, her back to them as she stood over the sink. "Viktor. And yes, it is him," she admitted as she tore envelope open. Her mother turned the water on. "So, are you two together or...?" Hermione skimmed the letter for now, deciding she'd read it thoroughly on the was to King's Cross. "We're friends. He's sweet, but Bulgaria is so far away... and I can't seriously date a boy that can't pronounce my name," she added with a smirk.

Hermione's summer had gone the same as every one before it. She spent it with her parents at the beach or roaming museums, or in her room studying. Considering how eventful Hogwarts had been the previous year it was a nice change of pace. She hadn't told her parents much, afraid to worry them. They knew about the tournament, and her brief relationship with Krum, but she'd left out Cedric and Harry Potter's insistence that The Dark Lord was back. She might not have believed it, if Dumbledore hadn't been backing up Harry and if she hadn't noticed the increased murders and disappearances lately. But being back in the muggle world she could almost forget it all.

The last week had been dedicated primarily to packing. She'd perfected an extension charm, and all of her belongings were easily fit into a single trunk, with the exception of Crookshanks, who had his own carrier. He was not fond of it, though he didn't protest other than to glare at Hermione whenever she insisted on putting him in it. She read Viktor's letter on the way to the station. It didn't say much, just how he had wished she'd taken him up on his offer for her to stay with him over summer, that training right now was as rigorous as ever, and there was a vague mention that he noticed something odd going on between a lot of his old school friends now that they had graduated. Hermione bit her lip. Durmstrang was known to teach Dark Arts, and if Voldemort was really back, it would be a good place to start looking for new Death Eaters. She was pulled from her thoughts by her father's car door opening.

It wasn't until she had arrived at Platform 9 3/4 and stood in front of the Hogwarts Express that it really hit Hermione that summer was over. She used to look forward to this, to the idea of another year of learning incredible spells. Now she felt tears pricking her eyes. She realized she didn't want to go. It was no secret that Hermione had little in the way of friends. Potter and Malfoy and the rest of their pureblood buddies were constantly harassing her, her own roommates were close with each other but generally ignored her, even some of the teachers seemed to find her annoying. But she'd never let it really get to her. It was getting to her now, as she stood on the platform readying herself for another term of studying alone in the common room.

She hugged her parents, refusing to let them see that she was upset. She kissed her mother's cheek. "I'll see you at Christmas," she told them, dragging her trunk to the luggage car.

Hermione took her prefect's badge from her pocket, pinning it on her shirt. She was supposed to wear it at all times. There would be a meeting, once the train got going, in which the Head Boy and Girl were supposed to go over their duties, but Hermione had time before it would start, and then she would have to patrol the train.

She didn't feel like waiting in the prefects' compartment, so she ducked into an empty one to let Crookshanks out of his carrier. The cat sauntered out, giving Hermione an irritated glare. "I'm sorry Crookshanks, mum and dad wanted me to use it. I told them you'd be fine without one," she sighed,letting the cat settle into her lap. She'd bought him just before third year on a whim, something Hermione rarely did. The shop owner had explained that no one wanted him, and Hermione just acted without thinking. She didn't regret it though. She scratched his head and let her own fall back, resting on the back of the seat. "Well, ready for another year?" The cat rested it's head lazily. "Me neither."




where? train compartment with who? crookshanks ooc:

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[the closer you L O O K]

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❝ indent BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

indent The screeching howl of the alarm clock on the bedside table pierced through the silence of the dark room, causing the mess of brown, red, and blonde hair and pink skin scream in terror and jerk so hard awake that her already-hanging-precariously-off-the-bed body fell the rest of the way to the floor with a heavy THUD.

indent BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

indent "SHUT UP!" She yelled furiously, her Scottish accent thick as she sprang to her feet and dove across the bed to grab the damn thing and turn it off. "F*cking hell..." She hissed. "Watch your f*cking anguage, Karmin!" Her mother yelled through the door, causing Karmin to huff and blow hair out of her face. Her parents were about as Scottish as they came: loud, rambunctious, rebellious, drunk, and vulgar. Somehow, despite all of this, they expected her to be a perfect lady. Flipping off the door that represented her mother in the young girl's mind, she groaned before slowly rolling over, digging her head into the covers and tugging them back over her.

indent A loud thump on the door jerked her back awake. "Get up, you lazy b***h!" Her father's charming and teasing tone resounded through the wood. Normally, people would take these comments as insults that constituted as verbal abuse. Karmin, on the other hand, saw them for what they really were: loving verbal abuse. "F*ck off, you crazy c*nt." She shot back, and heard a chuckle as the man stalked off down the hall. Her mother would have killed her. Her father, though, loved that his daughter was as far from ladylike as humanly possible without drifting into the world of slut.

indent Sighing dramatically, she tossed the covers off herself before fishing through her torn-apart dresser in search of something to wear. Sighing dramatically, she turned to her closet instead. She had left out an outfit to wear the night before. Right. Oops. She laid it out on the bed, then hopped in the shower to get ready for the day. After applying make up and finishing her hair, she tugged on her clothes unceremoniously and checked herself in the mirror to make sure she wasn't wearing anything backwards. Despite not being one hundred percent ladylike, she sure as hell liked to dress like one. Smiling to herself, she snatched up her case and dragged it rather ungracefully out of the room and down the hall. She set it on the top of the staircase, then tipped it and let it slide all the way down the stairs. Loudly. Her mother cursed from the kitchen. Her father laughed from the bathroom.

indent Speeding into the kitchen, she kissed her mother's cheek before eyeing the haggis on the counter. Hell no. She grabbed cereal and poured herself a bowl before sitting at the breakfast bar to devour the food. "Complain about me all you want, Ma, but we all know you're going to miss me." She stated with a mouth full of cereal. Her mother glowered at her, then sighed dramatically. "What the bloody hell am I to do with you?" She grinned, making Karmin grin mischievously. "Love me with all of your cold, decaying little heart." She made a heart shape with her hands and put it over her chest, then laughed and finished her bowl of cereal before heading to the front door. She kissed her parents goodbye, then sped off to the cab to get it loaded. Thank God her parents had moved them to London for a job, or else the trip to the Hogwarts Express would have been a bloody pain in the a**.

indent In no time at all, they pulled up to King's Cross. She paid, snatched up her trunk again, and headed inside. It didn't take her long at all to find her place on the train. She was having a bit of a hard time finding Luna or Ginny, though, so she settled with finding just someone in her house. She slowed to a stop at the sight of a Hermione Granger sitting by herself with her cat, looking none-too-happy. Frowning a bit, she glanced down the hall, selfishly wanting to go find her friends, but her damn kind heart wouldn't allow it. So, she slid open the compartment door with a soft smile. "Hey, Hermione." She greeted, shifting her weight a bit. "I know you've got yourself all situated, but I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to find Ginny." She asked. She didn't have anything personally against Hermione, seeing as they weren't in the same year so she didn't have to put up with Hermione's notorious know-it-all performances in class.

indent "Come on. It'll be fun." She smiled before looking at the deformed looking cat. "Cute cat. What's his name?" She asked, pushing hair behind her ear. ❞


with: Hermione Granger | where: Hogwarts Express | wearing: let's dress us






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[Kaleberry Tea]

xxxxxxxI CAN BE WILDER THAN THE w i n d ↯ 119 MILES AN HOUR
xxxxI'm in a whole other dimension↸
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx↶DANCING DOUBLES ON THE FLOOR↷
xxxxxxYou think I'm C R A Z Y ➸ a little bit H A Z Y
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xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx``BUT I’M STONE COLD SOBER

Rowan siged and tapped her foot on the wooden planks of platform 9 3/4 as her mother fussed over her little sister, Blaire. Rowan's older brother, Baz, had graduated the year before, so that left only one Dunne in the Hufflepuff house. Blaire was a mommy's girl, and thus had been sorted into her mother's old house: Ravenclaw.

Blaire had also inherited her mother's love of the rules. All summer, the little squirt had told on Rowan for every little thing she did. And it wasn't like she could get back at her, either. Blaire was one to enjoy books and learning more than adventure and risk. Rowan had inherited the love of excitement from her father; he was a Gryffindor in his Hogwarts days. Rowan could have been a Gryffindor, but her loyal and almost amiable personality won out. That could, however, have been the reason why many of her friends were Gryffindor.

At the thought of her little lion friends, Rowan tried to scan the crowd for either of the two boys. She saw nothing. Rowan's mother straightened up and hugged the blonde girl (who's hair immediately changed into a dark blue to match her sadness at having to leave her parents). The older woman didn't change expression as she took in her daughter's hair, though a few first years that hadn't yet met Rowan looked startled. Mama Dunne gave Rowan a hard stare, "Behave, Rowan." Rowan gave her mother a smirk and a wink as she straightened out her clothes, "I always do, mum." And with that, she ignored her mother's groan and followed Blaire onto the train.

Within seconds, Blaire was off meeting with her friends. Rowan scanned each compartment as she went by, looking for anyone familiar that she could enjoy the ride with. That's when she found her boys. Adrian and Asher were sitting in a compartment, talking to someone she couldn't see. Rowan quickly morphed into a tall, attractive, model-esque woman, adding on about six inches to her already short stature, turning her hair a deep mahogany color, and her skin about two shades darker than her pale, Irish skin.

Rowan strolled in with as much grace as she could possibly muster and sat next to Adrian, throwing her arms around his neck, "Oh Aiddy wadey boo boo! I just couldn't keep myself away from you and your smoking hot abs and chiseled jawline! I know I'll never be good enough for you, but please take me back!" Rowan turned and gave him a raspberry to the cheek, morphing back into her usual self. She flopped back onto the compartment seat, laughing at her joke and at the farting noise that the raspberry had produced. Because, hey, she was a sixteen year old girl. When she collected herself, she eyed the kid up and down, taking in his new physique, "Well, well, well. trying to attract the ladies, are we? Am I not enough for you, Aiddy?" She playfully punched his arm and then turned to survey the rest of the compartment. She had taken to calling him Aiddy after she spent a term over-accentuating the "g" in his usual nickname; Aiddy just seemed more natural to her. She also liked to be different than the rest of his buddies. She like to be different from everybody.

Rowan smiled brightly when she saw Asher. He was always good for a round of witty banter. She also smiled at Ginny, though she seemed to be a little off her game. Perhaps she ate some bad shellfish? "So, have you two snogged anyone interesting over the summer? I live in the middle of nowhere, so I'm afraid I must live my love life vicariously through you two." She grinned at the two as she leaned into Adrian.

The two sixth years had been friends for a long time. She had met Adrian through Cedric Diggory. Cedric had been the one to take her under his wing and help her improve her Quidditch skill. It was because of him that she could even multitask on a broom. His death had hit her pretty hard, but not quite as hard as it had hit Adrian. Rowan could't help in any other way that to be there for him and make him laugh.

Rowan lounged in the chair and tried to lazily examine her cuticles, "Are you kitty cats ready to lose this year in Quidditch?" They all played Quidditch, though Ro was the only odd one out being in Hufflepuff. She grinned at them all in turn.


WITH: Asher, Adrian, Ginny | WHERE: Some Compartment |OUTFIT | OOC: Crappy Post is crappy. I'll post for Pansy tonight or tomorrow xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[Smile C I E L]

xxxx

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Every year, he had to take a train ride into King’s Cross to take another train from the same station. It was a shame that there wasn’t more than one way to get to this point. It was even more disappointing what circumstances they were happening in.

”Look ‘ere, pidge. I know you’re keeping something from me. Your mam, yeah, I get that, but ya should…” his grandfather’s attempts at encouragement were more suffocating than supportive.

Cillian turned his head over his shoulder, looking just enough to his side that he could make direct eye contact with his grandfather while he answered bluntly. ”I’m legally obligated to keep secrets from you.”

”Yeah, yeah, You’re a regular James Bond,” he’d quipped back sarcastically.

Cillian shrugged, feigning astonishment. His expression calmed back to a deadpan default by the third sentence. ”Really? I’d think of myself more like a Q. If they decided to de-age him four decades and give him a lightsaber collection.”

”Can you let me finish what I was gonna say?”

”No.”

His grandfather lengthened his stride, leaning more heavily on his cane than before so as to keep up. Cillian slowed his pace slightly without drawing any attention to it, but his grandfather kept the length a few moments longer, allowing him to step in front of Cillian while he asked. ”A right shame, then. It was quite the speech. Could’a been mistaken for a lost quote ‘a Shakespeare.”

Cillian lifted his shoulders in a half-hearted shrug. He peered through the thick of the crowd, trying his best not to think about what he was doing or saying. ”Fixing those problems is what the many worlds theory is for. In one world, you did finish. We just landed in the wrong one. Now we’ll never get that hover-car. Tragic. Though we might inspire King Lear with woodchucks. Have to do something to follow up the Lion King,” he stated back, intending the words sarcastically, but not putting nearly as much of an obvious inflection on them as most people would have. He usually left it up to other people to figure out what he really meant and what he’d been kidding about. Occasionally, this ambiguity came back to bite him in the a**, or, in one case, kiss him, but that was a matter best left ignored and steeping in quiet resentment.

Once he had a sense of where he was, Cillian came to a stop. The platform wasn’t that far off, so he’d have to say goodbye to his grandfather for another year. He started to reach his hand towards the handle of his trunk, to brace to take it from his grandfather and maybe avoid getting his organs squished all the way out due to the tightness of the imminent hug. Instead of that expected embrace, however, he’d gotten a look that was far more critical than he expected.

”Ya had a real good try, getting me off topic,” his grandfather scolded.

Cillian’s eyes shifted to the opposite side of the station. ”Drat.” Whatever his grandfather wanted to hear, he’d prefer not to be saying it. He used his left hand to rake back his bangs, ruffling them with a nervous tick while he tried to think up a statement that was true, yet ambiguous enough not to raise any red flags big enough to deserve a rollercoaster. ”There’s nothing wrong that wasn’t wrong before. World hunger. War. Wasps. That vampires don’t have to stop and count Anne Rice books if you drop them…”

”I’m not sure what you mean.”

”If it’s all the same to you, I kind of prefer that,” Cillian let his hand drop a little.

His grandfather adjusted his stance against his cane, shifting his posture so it would be more properly upright. ”It’s not.”

”That’s fine, too.”


With one long, reluctant sigh of understanding that he wasn’t going to get an answer, Cillian’s grandfather backed off. ”What do you want me to tell your mother?”

Cillian’s expression softened with appreciation. He mentally kicked his mind back into a state of joking and deflection. ”Now that I’m being assigned patrols for prefect duties, I might have less time to write. Also, send more tea. Caffeinated. Preferably Earl Grey so I can order it hot. It’s harder to order via Bond reference and get what I ask for.”

”If anything gets weirder than the kind of weird you like, write me and not your mam. I can write up a letter for ya. Say you got expelled for something believable, like building a giant android that burnt down the school or something.”

"Switch android to mechagodzilla and you’ve got a deal.”

His grandfather smiled back at the joke, not quite laughing, but still amused in a way that showed a hint of pride. The sight of it made Cillian’s smile grow a little more on the right, sending that smile off-kilter with his reluctance to feel it all the way.

Grandfather wrapped his arms around Cillian, pulling him in for a hug. Cillian’s trunk swayed behind them, not that either of them noticed.

”Love ya.”

”More than a snowstorm on Christmas.”

Slowly, Cillian’s grandfather let him go. Cillian raised his free hand to the back of his nose. He forced back a sniffle in the subtlest way that he could manage, yanked on the top handle of his trunk and headed straight towards the platform. Again, he had to leave without thinking too much about what he’d said and done, or the weight of reality came crashing back down on him. No matter how much his grandfather said he loved him, his family had always been a world waiting to reject him, as was the same world which he’d just literally ran to.

Cillian didn’t stop to look at the train. He’d seen the Hogwarts Express plenty of times. His stage of marveling at its splendor had long past. What mattered most to him right now was finding a place to store his stuff until the prefects meeting started. Given where he planned to go, it’d seemed most logical for him to head towards the front of the train and pick a compartment without too many people along the way. Instead, he’d barely made it one compartment down before he heard a voice he recognized.

”Oi, Michael Keaton! What’d you do to your entire body. It looks great. Oddly effeminate except the feet. You could destroy a village full of borrowers and still have strength to stomp a grape vineyard with those! The feet, not the shoes on them. The shoes are still pretty effeminate. As opposed to ugly effeminate, like quilts or literal beehive hair.” Cillian had shouted down the corridor at Karmin. Perhaps it wasn’t the best behavior for him to start off shouting, but he’d get the lecture soon enough. Besides, it was far more exciting than just saying hello.

Cillian came to a stop at the compartment door. He stepped back to rest near it without heading exactly against it, and looked inside. He could see another student in there with a cat, a red badge pinned to her clothes. Evidently, he hadn’t been the only prefect to head in this direction. That was assuring. It’d be even more so if he wasn’t standing against the door frame, scratching at his scalp and staring at her like he had no idea who she was.

”And you’re, er, oddly familiar in such a way that I can’t remember your name. Shakespeare reference. It’s a Shakespeare reference. But not Cordelia?” he stated, asking Hermione for her name without explicitly stating as much.




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xxx

[ where ? || outside a compartment ] [ who ? || karmin and hermione ] [ feeling ? || uncomfortable but decent ] [ outfit ]

[the closer you L O O K]

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❝ indent Harry watched the peculiar blonde heading towards him, speaking against a piece of paper in a way that he would have thought odd if he hadn't been on a magical train heading to a magical school. There were weirder things that had happened in his past. When she stopped in front of him suddenly, though, and peered up at him, he realized he had never seen her before. He blinked, eyeing her a moment suspiciously. Who the hell was this chick? He wanted to move out of the way, to tell her to be gone or for the power of Christ to compel her or something, but she just stood there.

indent As if her mystical and allusive aura wasn't bad enough, what she said had his eyebrow arching higher than it had ever been before. What in the bloody hell...? He glanced towards the window, half expecting to see said creature, but there was nothing there but the other side of the Platform. "Um... Why not?" He asked, almost afraid to ask. Was she eating mushrooms or something on a daily basis? But what if she was telling the truth? Harry wasn't the most knowledgeable about the magical world. Were these sluagh-a-things really trying to grab him through the window? He had been riding the train for four years. How the hell had he not realized that he was in danger this whole time? He scratched his arm, then stared back at her.

indent Thankfully, she was turning away, and he was hoping she was going to leave him alone, but then she turned back to him and placed an earring on his shirt. He stared down at it, frowning even more. What the hell was happening to him right now? Was he being cursed? Was this thing poisoned? Was she a death eater or just a lunatic? Yet when she spoke, all of these thoughts vanished slowly. No... for some reason, he didn't think this girl was out to hurt him. He watched her go, a small smirk playing across his lips as she pulled out an umbrella. He lifted the earring off his shirt and held it up to the light to look at it closer. Then, he turned his gaze back to her, about to call after her when suddenly he felt a hand slam against his back in what was supposed to be a friendly clap, but what really almost knocked the wind clear out of him. Coughing, he turned to see Draco standing there-

indent Cedric's body was lying a few feet from me. The reaper held me firmly with his scythe, nearly choking the air out of my lungs in the process with each tightening grip. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. My scar was aching. "You!" The snake-like voice snarled and hissed, turning to one of the masked men. The man's voice replied, shakily, afraid. I recognized it immediately. I had heard it so many times.

indent "Well, well. Look who it is."

indent No, not that voice... but close. So close. Lucius. Harry instinctively retracted from Draco's touch, though he hated himself for it as soon as it was done. He forced a smile, trying to act like it wasn't a big deal, like he wasn't avoiding his best friend at all costs. "Aye. And I will until you get rid of that blasted cologne. Smells like hippogriff s**t." He smirked, waving his hand in front of his nose before moving down the hall in search of a compartment for them to sit in.

indent What was he supposed to say to Draco? 'Why didn't you write to me?' 'Why is your dad trying to kill me?' 'Are you going to try and kill me, too?' 'How was the weather over on your side of the country?' He was lost for words. The closest friend he ever knew now felt miles apart, and he had no idea whether or not it was wise to try and close the distance. He glanced into one compartment and slowed down a few steps, his eyes connecting with Theodore Nott's for a moment. He didn't know what it was about that kid, but... well, he didn't know. He offered him a tired smile, then turned back to Draco as he kept walking. "Tell me you got passed over as a prefect. If I have to ride this damn train by myself, I'm going to kill someone." He grunted, though honestly he was hoping with all of his heart that Draco had gotten prefect so that he would leave and go to he meeting. It was a sad desire, but a desire nonetheless.

indent "This looks good." He said, turning to an empty compartment and moving in to sit down. "How was your summer, Draco?" He asked, his eyes connecting with his friend's with a gaze that said he meant more than the cliche question. What was going on with Voldemort? What was going on with the Death Eaters? What was going on with Draco? ❞


With: Luna Lovegood and Draco Malfoy | Where: Hogwarts Express - Hallway | Wearing: threads






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[the closer you L O O K]

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❝ indent The smell of weed was thick in the air. Alcohol bottles were tipped over, stood up, stacked up, and everything-up'd on just about every surface available. The stars slowly traveled across the room, touching every corner as the disco ball hanging from the ceiling started losing its charm. The fog machine, now out of its solution, created a mechanical whirring sound that added a subtle buzz to the otherwise silent apartment. The once celebratory whores and stoners were passed out in every position across the floor, covering every bit of walking space. Out of the corner of the room, movement suddenly occurred, and a mess of black hair and dark skin emerged from a sea of bodies. A quiet groan escaped his lips as he thrust his arms towards the heavens and yawned heartily, then examined the battlefield before him. Carefully, he stood up, plucked his shirt from a pretty blonde a few feet away, and then his shoes from a brunette... and then his pants from a red head. He liked variety. What could he say?

indent He picked his way through the carnage, wincing at every noise he made, and tiptoed his way into the hallway outside of the apartment. Once there, he dropped his shoes and started tugging on his pants, hopping around on one foot until he got his leg in one of the holes. The sound of something plastic dropping onto the ground caused him to jump, quickly turning to see a sixty year old woman standing in the hall, water her plants... or she had been until she saw the naked boy exit his apartment and start changing in the hall. He smiled sheepishly at her, quickly tugging his pants up the rest of the way before grabbing his shoes and shirt and heading towards the stairs next to her. "Sorry..." He said quietly with a bow of apologetic grace, which he repeated a few times before heading down the staircase.

indent His laughter rang through as soon as he hit the second landing, causing the elderly woman to hiss and quickly storm back into her room.

indent Head still ringing from a hangover that he was currently nursing with a bit of healing magic he had picked up from Madam Pomfrey over the last six years due to being knocked around so many times in Quidditch, Asher walked down the street at a leisurely pace, glancing at Big Ben in the distance and grinning. He still had an hour before he had to be at King's Cross. Perfect. Plenty of time to pack, shower, get dressed, eat, and get there.

indent His mother was not so convinced. She screamed at him all the way up to his room, and even as he locked the door in her face, she was still screaming at him for being such an "ignorant prat." He chuckled and rolled his eyes. If he didn't hate his mother so much, he might see her point of view. Or if she didn't hate him so much, she might see his. Shaking his head, he hopped in the shower to get rid of the smell of sweat, sex, and weed, then brushed his teeth before using a bit of magic to pack his trunk. Being a seventh year was a wonderful, wonderful experience. Using magic outside of school had to be the best thing about being a wizard so far.

indent He picked out an outfit for himself, tugged it on without really caring too deeply about what it looked like, and headed down the stairs to the kitchen where his mother was angrily making toast. He never knew someone could make making toast look so venomous, but he was almost afraid to eat it as she tossed the plate down in front of him. Of course, then the hangover and the weed-over hit him and his stomach basically came out of his body itself to devour everything that rested on his plate which included two pairs of toast, three eggs, five strips of bacon, and a bowl of cereal.

indent Once everything was safely jam-packed in his stomach, he kissed his mother's cheek, grabbed his trunk (which he had shrunk down to fit in his back pack), and hopped on his skateboard which he jumped down the stairs leading outside on and sped off down the road. His board carried him down streets, through traffic, around cars, down railings, through crowds, and finally through the barrier into Platform nine and three quarters. He rounded the corner and kicked the board up into his hand. Unfortunately, he spotted his mother standing there, waiting for him. s**t, what not? Groaning quietly, he walked over to her. "Mum, no." He told her immediately, earning a scowl. "You forgot this." She handed him a small bag, causing him to blink. "Don't open it yet." She murmured quietly,biting her lip and offering a small smile before she glanced over as Adrian walked up to join them.

indent When they were finally rid of his mother and safely tucked away in a compartment, Asher relaxed and leaned back in his seat before yawning and leaning back in his seat, talking with Adrian for a bit until he spotted Ginny. After calling out to her, he laughed as she shimmied her hips in a flirtatious way, making him wink devilishly and blow her a kiss. "Always so classy, Weasley. So classy." He teased her playfully in response. "You know my word is about as unreliable as Hagrid's teaching skills." He stated with a chuckle before watching he interaction with Adrian. s**t, she was really in love with that guy, huh? He grinned mischievously and all knowingly before sighing dramatically. "I don't break hearts, Ginny. I hardly expect any of them to get into bed with me thinking it will cause me to fall madly in love with them." Asher declared simply. "But yes. I had plenty of tail chasing. This party last night was ridiculous, guys. Someone laced the punch with just about every type of alcohol. No one left the party that night. We all passed out on the floor. It was absolutely hilarious." He grinned before glancing at Adrian who seemed a bit too awkward as well at being complimented on his looks. "Than-" He began, but suddenly a tall, hot bombshell walked in and flung herself at Adrian's side, effectively diverting his attention from Ginny. Of course, he knew exactly who it was, but it still didn't make the fact that his cheeks took on a dark hew any less painful.

indent Asher laughed hysterically as he turned his body to lean up against Ginny, watching Rowan tease the hell out of Adrian and cause him to look out the window, obviously wanting to crawl into a hole and die as he used his sleeve to wipe the spit off his cheek with a hint of disgust. "Speaking of class." He smirked, rubbing his arm a bit before sticking his tongue out at Rowan for just a moment before returning to his dignified posture. "I'm just trying to taunt you by showing you what you can't have." He stated simply.

indent As Rowan turned her attention back to Asher, he grinned mischievously. "I went to the Mewling Merlins concert and shared a joint and a few other things with the hot chick drummer." He stated with a smile, causing Adrian to stare at him, rather impressed. "You're shitting me." He said, causing Asher to grin again. "I s**t you not." He chuckled, causing Adrian to kick his knee. "You know I baggsied her!" He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "I've been in love with her since I was thirteen, you a*****e." He grinned, causing Asher to smile before suddenly throwing himself onto Adrian's lap. "It hasn't been too long. I might still taste like her. Want to kiss me and find out, Adge?" He asked, puckering up until Adrian tossed him off his lap with no trouble. "Damn, you've changed." He said as if terrified of the man before crawling back up into his seat and leaning on Ginny again.

indent He lifted the bag his mother had given him at the station before laughing out loud. "Bro! She gave me back my weed!" He laughed, causing Adrian to smirk and roll his eyes. "I knew I liked her." He declared. "You hate your mother, you freaking lunatic." Adrian retorted, causing Asher to take off his shoe and throw it at him. "It's all in the past, man. You gotta let things go."

indent "Anyway, in response to your questions, my summer was okay. I just worked on an old '67 Camaro with my da for most of it. Tried to keep myself busy. How about yours?" He asked, watching as Asher tucked his weed into his pocket for later use. "Yeah, how were your summers, ladies?" ❞


with: Adrian, Ginny, and Rowan | where: Hogwarts Express - Compartment | wearing: don't care





✥◢ ◣◥ ◤◢ ◣◥ ◤◢ ◣◥ ◤◢ ◣◥ ◤◢ ◣ ✥ ✥ ✥ ◢ ◣◥ ◤◢ ◣◥ ◤◢ ◣◥ ◤◢ ◣◥ ◤◢ ◣ ✥xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

[foreverspooky666]

D r a c o | M a l f o y


//x IF I SAY I WOULDN'T BE HOSTILE
xxxxWOULD YOU SAY YOU WOULD DO THE SAME?
xxxxxxxxxxxIF WE'RE ALL MADE JUST A LITTLE BIT BROKEN
xxxxxxxxxxxxxx TELL ME, WHO IS TO BLAME?x //

It didn't take a Granger to see the way Harry reacted to Draco, or the look on his face when he turned around. For a moment it made the blonde feel a twinge of sorrow, as if he really had lost the friendship he had maintained for four years over one summer. But soon his best friend put on a smile and cracked a joke at his expense like nothing was wrong.

"Someone's awfully jumpy today. You don't exactly smell like Amorentia yourself, by the way, Potter." Draco kept his tone light, and to the unsuspecting eye it would seem as if the two were just kidding around, but there was tension between the two he couldn't quite place. Well, he had an idea that it had to do with the return of a certain dark wizard, as well as Draco's indirect involvement in the Dark Lord's plans. That couldn't have been why Harry didn't write him back all summer, could it?

He really wasn't sure why he was so concerned. So he rolled his eyes and followed the boy down the hall, trying his best to brush off the uneasiness he felt. Their arms were almost touching, but there was a chasm between them he couldn't seem to close. Harry's question broke the silence and made Draco groan audibly.
"How could I possibly forget about that? I was only bragging about it all summer."
Did that mean Harry hadn't even opened his letters? The thought made a dragon rise up in his chest, irritation running through his body. He was sure he had mentioned it to him in at least two letters. "I suppose I should go at some point. But I can kill a little time before then," he said carelessly, lifting a shoulder in a shrugging motion. He continued to follow Harry, his mind buzzing and nodding absentmindedly when his friend seemed to find a good compartment.

Draco had been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed they passed Theodore, a Slytherin boy he could frankly care less for. Sighing heavily, he collapsed onto a seat, spreading his arms over the back and setting his right foot over his left knee. His cold blue eyes swirled over to study the boy across from him as he asked about Draco's summer. Again the boy shrugged, not lifting his gaze.

"It was about as good as you can imagine. Father had a lot of guests over throughout the summer. I kept to myself mostly." Draco knew the double meaning behind Harry's words and tried to convey in his expression just how little he knew. "And yours? Did that Mudblood family you live with give you much trouble?" He wanted to know why Harry was acting so differently, why he hadn't even bothered to read his letters, let alone respond.

xxstanding on ashes from the fires you've made,
xx burning your bridges just to save your face

[foreverspooky666]

G i n n y / W e a s l e y

╬xxxxtell me where you're hiding your voodoo doll, cause i can't control myself
xxxxxxxxxi dont wanna stay, i wanna run away, but i'm trapped under your spell
xxxxxxxxxxxand it hurts in my head and my heart and my chest
xxxxxxxxxxxxxand i'm having trouble catching my breath
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxwon't you please stop loving me to death?

"You know me so well, my love." A hand flew out to catch the kiss, placing it over her heart and sending one right back with a wink of her own. She caught the grin and felt a blush rise to her cheeks, trying her best to cover it with her long red hair as she bent over to fix the strap of her sandals. His response made her roll her eyes and, once she straightened, fix him with a stare. Was she that obvious?

She sighed, flipping her hair over one shoulder smoothly. "You can explain your intentions all you want, but a girl that likes you will still be all broken up that she can't be the one to magically change your ways," she reminded him, then smirked, "But don't worry, I love you and all your man whoreness regardless." Here, she gave him a playful nudge. At the description of the party, her eyes widened and she began glowing. "Speaking of sinful bashes! I assume we can expect another one of yours soon?"

Her attention was caught by Adrian fully again as he spoke, but quickly diverted at the bombshell walking in to throw herself at the Gryffindor, making Ginny's ears turn bright red - the trademark sign of a ticked off Weasley. Her narrow eyes became the size of saucers once more as Rowan took her place, waving to her in a friendly manner, but something about the interaction between the two made her shift uncomfortably. She became uncharacteristically quiet, trying her best to quell her jealousy as she began playing with Asher's hair when he leaned against her.

Watching the two boys talk about this 'hot drummer' wasn't helping matters, and Ginny instead looked at her nails until Asher resumed his place at her side. She grunted a little, the grin back on her face when his weight was pushed into her side. "You're ridiculous. You tempt me with your Muggle addictions every time you bring something else to school," she chastised playfully, giggling. It was no secret that her friend had gotten quite smooth with his lies to his mother.

Adrian once again drew her attention to him, instantaneously and magnetically. "That sounds fun," she said, though she couldn't distinguish one muggle car from the next. The only one she had really seen was the Ford Anglia her father had gotten from the Ministry, and even that one was the farthest from a muggle car as one could be. "Nothing too exciting. I didn't go out much, but my brothers Bill and Charlie came to visit. We all spent most of the summer practicing for Quidditch this year. It was more quiet than I would have liked." She found it hard to maintain eye contact with Adrian when she spoke to him, particularly with Rowan around. It was unclear if the two were together or not and for some reason, that didn't sit well with the girl.