mistressbellaxblack
âAre first years under the impression that the library is the right place to scream? Are they honestly that blood stupid?â
â the library really isnât the best place for that. maybe theyâll figure it out soon enough. â

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mistressbellaxblack
âAre first years under the impression that the library is the right place to scream? Are they honestly that blood stupid?â
â the library really isnât the best place for that. maybe theyâll figure it out soon enough. â
mcwinnon
âi hate to be the sheep that follows the flock, love,â she said. âbut usually those ravenclaws know a thing or two about what the human body can and cannot do.â a chuckle followed as she looked at the girl before her endearingly, a sense of relief hiding under the smile. âyouâre so lucky youâre pretty.â
â iâm not an idiot ! iâm just CURIOUS. â she could feel the heat rush to her cheeks before shaking her head. â i really donât need to explain myself. plus, you never know when the ravenclaws are just playing a trick on you. â
rxdolfus
he made a face, the boy slightly amused as she denied his unspoken offer. rodolphus wouldnât fight it â if the halfblood wanted to pay, then damn it if he would take that i n d e p e n d e n c e from her. ( insert eye roll here ). â is that why you jumped in to speak when you thought i was rearing to leave? because you werenât seeking my approval? because you PREFER solitude? â he raked a tired hand through his hair, glancing over at the fair face looking back at him. two minds who hated sharing, yet kept going despite it all; what an interesting story. the real truth of the matter was that he chose to speak to her for the same exact bullshit he was giving her trouble for. he told her more than he had most people and the boy could relax knowing that she had no one to tell. she was alone.
â iâd never seek your approval because i donât care for it. and itâs not because i prefer solitude that i added more to the conversation. â her lips pursed tightly. â youâre free to go if youâd like. i wonât be stopping you. â her thumb lightly grazed the edge of the wooden table, feeling the ridges and bumps. it was true. thereâd be nothing the blonde would do to stop the other individual from leaving but his company was proving more interesting than she had expected. she wasnât cowering in fear and his threats werenât a constant part of their discussion. it wasnât how others described him.Â
rxdolfus
the words emerged from nowhere, causing the boy to instinctively furrow his brow. it was only momentary, of course, as a smile eventually showed itself in place of his brief confusion. the girl wanted to keep talking. how very ADORABLE. â on the contrary ⊠i consider younger siblings to be quite the c r u t c h. â he relaxed in his seat, leaning forward slightly as to push the stacked coins back in her direction. the wizard may have been arguably psychotic with a penchant for poetic words and fisticuffs, but he was a gentleman when it counted. or when he FELT like it. â so i suppose it is true. you prefer solitude. or maybe ⊠â he tapped the table, memories of their previous conversation coming forth as he continued to speak. â there is too much pressure in you being liked that itâs easier to be alone. â  rodolphus straightened to his usual posture, his spine pulled upward to an aristocratic length. â that was YOUR theory, if i recall correctly. â
her shoulders shrugged. â maybe i donât see it that way because i never had one but i got along JUST fine. â her index finger tapped on the stack one.. two.. t h r e e times before she pushed it back. there was no interest in accepting a drink from the other when she could very well pay for it herself. licking her lips, she put her coat on. â me preferring solitude has nothing to do with my âdesireâ to be liked. i just donât feel the need to surround myself with others. itâs M U C H easier to think with a clear head without a lot of voices in the background. â she had used that theory to describe the very wizard sitting in front of her, with no idea he would use it himself. â itâs d i f f e r e n t. plus, iâve never had the need to seek approval from those around me, at least not those i hardly know. â
blondevans
  Petunia quickly closed the door with a narrowed eyebrows before she was stunned of this - it almost felt muggle-like and they loved it. â thatâsâŠwonderful.â she was out of words.â amazing idea you had here.â
â oh, itâs not really mine. i canât take credit. â her head shook, eyes remaining on the small, glowing star. â my mother gave it to me, i just used a spell to make it brighter. â the smile grew on her lips as she imagined a ceiling filled with the stickers.
mcwinnon
she stifled a laugh. âalright, she said, holding her hand out with a mock expectancy. âten quid, or i talk. your reputation will surely be ruined by this, i hope youâre aware.â marlene eased in, falling dramatically on ingridâs bed. âyour life is a right mess,â she said, her head turning to look up at ingrid. âand i absolutely love it.â
lips pursed after a soft sigh escaped. â you CANâT tell anyone, but a ravenclaw told me that i could never lick my elbow because itâd be i m p o s s i b l e. â she remained sitting with a pillow in her lap. â i thought iâd give it a try anyways. â
mcwinnon
âohâ thatâs⊠thatâs bloody marvelousâ, she said through broken chuckles. as she caught the fellow student red-handed, marlene saw an opportunity. a satisfied grin pulled at her features as she closed the door she came through. âshould i name my price for silence before or AFTER you try explaining what i just walked in on?â
â you saw nothing ! â the hufflepuff bit her lip with a sheepish smile as the redhead entered her room. she should have just listened to the ravenclaw about being unable to lick her elbow, rather than trying to attempt it HERSELF.
rxdolfus
â all things I already knew, unfortunately. but i guess it wouldnât be interesting were you to just up and tell me what i wanted to hear. GOD FORBID rodolphus lestrange get what he want without trying. â he offered his infamous smirk, shuffling about in order to grab whatever he owed the bartender from the pocket of his trousers. despite his thirst, the boy wouldnât be ordering another drink â satiation would only come from answers, not the sweet amber liquid currently laid out in front of him. ever since he was a kid, he saw the world and the people in it a certain way. they were all so ⊠two dimensional with little going for them. he considered himself to be the only person with thoughts, desires, and a past that helped shape his own individuality. it wasnât until he was seven and he had taken something very precious from the younger witch across the stress that he realized that he wasnât the only character in this book. sheâd never get her puppy back, but the loss proved itself useful. he understood now.Â
â jeg. â her shoulders shrugged. â i donât like pumpkin juice. â watching him take a few coins out, she moved towards her coat. there was a small, red velvet coin pouch. stacking a few coins neatly on the table, she found herself wondering if this mean their conversation was O V E R. and suddenly, there it was -     a feeling of slight dissatisfaction. he had been correct when he said he was the first person to really PAY her any real attention. and much to the witchâs dismay, she was rather enjoying it. for once her conversations werenât about what was for supper or how to do charms homework in under two minutes. â iâm an only child. â the words hadnât even been processed before they entered the atmosphere. â i understand the appeal of having someone else when youâre younger but i donât think itâs necessary. â
rxdolfus
â no, i donât suppose you would. but itâs true. you have to be prepared to reconsider what is right and wrong. theyâre essentially just terms that express an inconvenient struggle ⊠just PARTS of a dialectic equation. â obsidian hues remained on the girl, gazing back past their hypnotic darkness into something more inviting as he lifted the second glass. the drink, however, never reached his mouth. instead, his lips snaked up into a suspicious smirk as he looked her over once again. he had told her quite a bit about lilâ old rod and yet, there they sat, his curious mind still aching for information. she could alienate everyone around her until she had no one left to turn to for all he cared, but damn it if he wouldnât get what he came for.Â
â come now. youâre capable of flexing that jaw for more than just impersonal comments. â he set the glass back on the table before leaning forward, a vicious whisper emerging within seconds. â tell me something. â with an arch of his brow, he settled back into his relaxed, yet still visibly stern state and posture. he would have to admit that, while he considered her to be an overall example of someone heâd find unimpressive, he could confess to finding their conversations to be rather enlightening. she was smarter than he wouldâve given her credit for. a beautiful face with a sharp tongue and a curious outlook. â teach me about YOU. â
â not everything is black and white or just right and wrong. â or so she heard. for years, her parents reminded her that things were blurred. only a few things were purely one thing or the other. but all her friends, all her classmates had seemed to disagree. and so she tried to accept both. when it came to understanding the world, she refused to let any bias in      no matter how IMPOSSIBLE.Â
her hand brought the cup back to her lips. she had forgotten how cold the drink was. a large gulp of butterbeer felt like ice rushing down her throat. the coolness from the liquid could be felt all the way to her stomach, sending chills throughout her body. â iâm from NORWAY. i went to durmstrang until my third year and now iâm here: in hogwarts, as a h u f f l e p u f f. â  her shoulders shrugged. there wasnât much else to tell, at least not to him. as interesting as their conversations were, she couldnât even I M A G I N E telling him her life story. how she wore pig tails every day until the age of seven. how she shudders at the thought of insects.  -     or how she didnât know her blood status until the age of twelve. how her parents had kept it from her that her mother was a muggle, and not a squib. it felt wrong to actually utter those words. keeping it inside, meant that it would remain nothing more than a dream. a dream where her parents l i e d about who she was.
rxdolfus
â why would i change my desires simply because others continue to disappoint? tell me, my darling, would you change your opinions and ideals ⊠LOWER your overall esteem because the people around you didnât automatically agree or react the way you wanted? â power was absolute in the palm of his hand, give or take the trickle of civility and governing rules. oftentimes he found his disappointment to be motivating, a feeling which would lead the young brunette to scheme for what was rightfully his. this was an addiction without any consequences and, as everyone knew, addictions were meant to be satisfied.Â
â unhappy? no. itâs not a lack of happiness that plagues me, ingrid. â rodolphus shrugged off her comment, unwilling to allow a big deal to be made out of their apparent momentary truce. the boy wasnât sad. he was angry. his grandmother would often claim that there was a beast inside of him, one which took control when rod found himself too lost to solve a problem himself. it was an excuse that he never fully believed. he had almost always been in control of his own feelings and actions, only sometimes the rage simmering beneath the surface would boil over and heâd come to with blood on his fists. â do you consider me to be wrong? in what i say and do? you see me and you know my family. am i a bad person? â expected answer? YES.Â
her mouth OPENED, only to close quickly after. that had not been her intention. she was one to pride herself in remaining independent and far from susceptible to the environment around her. but the witch knew when to keep her expectations low & it wasnât because she was giving in, it was because she was a d a p t i n g. her refusal to let others dampen her mood had nothing to do with lowering her esteem. â itâs more about keeping my expectations low for others, iâm not devaluing myself. â the words seemed to FINALLY form.
that had been unexpected. did the half-blood decide he was a bad person ? yes, she did. there were NO redeeming qualities that peeked through his cool demeanor. for the entirety of their conversation, she observed and observed him. his actions. his words. they were too neat, too thought out for her to see anything. it did not mean she believed people were fundamentally horrible unless proven wrong. there were THINGS she heard about the male sitting in front of her that made butterflies sink in her stomach. the stench of arrogance, anger, and aggression followed him. it was strong & hard not to notice. â i donât think anyone is always correct. â
rxdolfus
â perhaps youâre right, perhaps youâre not â who can really say for sure? â it was interesting to watch as the witch tried to understand the inner workings of his mind. the real humor behind her action was that, out of everyone in the room, the one he understood the least was himself. the beauty of rodolphus lestrange was that he appeared all-knowing, as if he never doubted an action or idea. he was the boy who never wanted for anything. this wizard, in his journey along the path that his parents have set, struggled to forget the sweet taste of freedom. and it was in this inability that his crazy was defined, for he was always colored with desire, outrage, and a constrained humor which bordered on psychotic. â iâve always expected much more than what iâve been given. unfortunately, as iâve come to learn, being born a genius had led me to create some of the most UNREALISTIC of expectations. â
â but what do i wish to hear, â he repeated the phrase, the edges of his lips curling slightly upward to show a minuscule, yet visible smile. â itâll be difficult for you to understand, but i often find myself wishing that there are people who are smarter and more powerful than me out there. and what i wish to hear ⊠is that they are significantly less happy than i am. â
â no one, i guess. â the words were spaced out as the blonde took her time. sips of her butterbeer were becoming less and less frequent as the drink became colder by the second. â incredibly humble of you. â the few ingrid had come across that declared themselves â geniuses â were often FAR from it. it anything, they followed every thought, every belief surrounding them and ultimately mistook it for immensely vast knowledge. â but wouldnât you try to lower your expectations ? make an attempt to  better off your hopes & dreams if you are as clever as you claim to be ? âÂ
â so... what youâre SAYING is that you just donât want to be the most miserable person in the room. â her eyes shifted towards the window, watching a few water droplets race towards the bottom. time seemed to past quickly outside of the hogâs head but much slower inside. but that was how the young witch always felt when it was raining. â who would have thought ? that rodolphus lestrange, a member of the sacred twenty-eight, would be U N H A P P Y --Â â green eyes reverted back towards the slytherin male.Â
rxdolfus
what DID he wish to hear? the question caught him off-guard, if only momentarily. see, rodolphus wished a great many things and he often went to extremes lengths to achieve these desires. yet to put it into words was something he hadnât had the pleasure of doing before. â that question carries an INFINITE number of possible answers, ingrid. best pray i never find myself bored enough to answer it. â rodolphus was a man a kept promises and various offers. he appeared a sinner who presented intriguing opportunities for a select few with one hand, and with the other, a lasting awareness of excitement and fear. the wizard had a habit of collecting dark and mysterious elements, the little molecules and atoms which combine to create a person of appealing nature. she asked what he wished to hear? he wished to hear the sound of her giving in: a successful collection of a curious witch.Â
âi hope it wasnât too much of a surprise. i was only trying to be honest. â he gave the blonde a look before finishing off his drink, tapping the table as a signal to the bartender. â ⊠for once. itâs a rarity. i suggest you take it in â wonât last much longer. doesnât do the air around me enough ⊠flavor. â
â or maybe you just donât actually know. i used to do that ----- act as if i couldnât narrow down what i wanted for christmas but i actually had no idea what iâd rather see perfectly wrapped under that T R E E. â she couldnât help herself, every time something came out of his mouth, ingrid felt the need to question it. it was the desire of picking at the few thoughts visible stemming from the boy. clockwork was how her father often described the human brain. tinkering with the slytherinâs... mechanics seemed to be a fascinating task.
fingers twirled the silver band on her finger as rusty made his way towards the two. out of the corner of her eye, she tried to just observe. there remained one burning question on the tip of her tongue --- why he was still talking to her. pureblood families like his, who held their names like golden tickets, were never REALLY kind nor interested in anyone who wasnât the same. the only exception the hufflepuff could think of was causing fear and terror but she believed she held her ground, proving she wouldnât be shedding ANY tears.
blondevans
   â sure?â Petunia shrugged their shoulders. â a sticker of a star or?â
â be sure to close the door. â her hand extended, holding the sticker up. â itâs in the shape of a star. you could stick them on your ceiling and fall asleep under a constellation or two. itâs sort of like the candles in the great hall but a more muggle version. â
missizzyquick
âI hope so. To be honest, I couldâve used the sugar burst today. It was a long afternoon on the pitch and every muscle from my back downward is screaming at me.â
â why not try the kitchens ? theyâre ALWAYS fully stocked. â
miikuh
â ah uh ⊠grocery store, â she responded, shoulders falling slightly after realizing her mistake. it wasnât much of a difference, simply a change in words. that being said, the contrast in diction is what separates civilians from military personnel and their families. â well ⊠who can really be sure whatâs real and what isnât? but no, yeah, i completely agree. what could it hurt to get a better, uh ⊠IDEA of the landscape? a castle like this is bound to have a million secrets. â
â iâve never heard it called that before. mostly just grocery store or dagligvarebutikk. ' her head tilted forward. ' precisely. secrets are m e a n t to be REVEALED. plus, we aren't going to be here for another seven years. it's now or never right ? '
rxdolfus
she asked him, rather sarcastically and with little interest it seemed, what he wanted. the thought made him smirk, devious and troublesome images entering his mind almost instinctively. â as mannerly as i may appear, iâm afraid my incentives may a bit too rough for you. sure you want to have a go at what iâd PREFER to see? â the two of them were full of rhetorical questions that evening. perhaps it was because they were worried about the actual answers theyâd receive. â i never denied I was. â the crook of his finger traveled along the edge of the table, darkened eyes languidly following this movement as if to mentally record each and every crack and dent. he was slow to stop, pausing momentarily to take a long drink from his glass. there was a noticeable heat given from the extra liquid addition, the fire pleasantly burning his throat on the way down.
â and in case you were curious, I HAVENâT forgotten. Itâs a simple fact, my dear â i only pay attention to things i wish to hear. â the utter repulsion never fully seeped into his face. the lie itself was accompanied with a grin, both amused and stern.  â as for what i keep ⊠it depends on my mood, really. after a certain point, i try not to think about specific things, or else itâll break my heart. â
curiosity shone through her eyes. there was a part of her that wanted to know the answer but she figured she already k n e w. her eyes followed his finger. every move the slytherin carried out seemed to be calculated, specific. it made her think twice about simply breathing, as if she had to match his thoughts. shoulders straightened when her posture started to slack, she could almost hear the creaky voice of her grandmother. the memory seemed so fresh in her mind, it was almost hard to remember it happened nearly twelve years ago.
' and WHAT do you wish to hear ? other than how terrifying you can be ? ' the glass was raised back up to her lips but returned to the table top without losing a single drop of liquid. ' i'm surprise you even H A V E a heart. ' the slight smile was barely noticeable. for a few seconds, the only sound emitted from the hufflepuff was the cracking of her bones. first her fingers, then her wrists, and at last, her neck.
blondevans
  â thatâs really a sticker?â they asked, eyebrows narrowed - trying to take a peek in the closet themselves.
â yeah ! itâs a sticker. it GLOWS green when it's dark. want to come see ? â