holding on for dear life { 2 .6.77 }
insanelittlefury:
Would there ever be anything more entertaining, than to watch a little lion as her spark threatened to fizzle o u t? Alecto didn’t think so, for this was by far the most amusing thing she’d experienced all day. Still, the redhead kept her face perfectly void of emotion, not even allowing a smirk to curve at her lips, as she continued to stare at the brunette; unblinking, unmoving.
Her lion’s roar evidently had yet to be silenced, for the question that soon snapped at Alecto’s ears contained all of the ROAR one would expect, from a feisty, little G r y f f i n d o r.
{What do you want?} What did she want? P a i ndid not quite fit her ideals for the day; at least, not that of a physical form. Really, all Alecto wanted to do was play with her little lion’s head.
So that was what she did.
"Why, I came to offer my c o m m i s e r a t i o n s, of course.” Wide eyes batted innocently, lips still pursed before a grin stretched out across her lips, head shaking as Alecto offered a laugh; malicious and cruel in every sense.
"No, no, that doesn’t sound like me.”
Usually in inexplicably horrific situations like the murder of Bertram Aubrey, Marlene would’ve found a candidate to blame. Most likely it was the Slytherins with their slimy nastiness that oozed from their every step. She knew that they were the ones who hated muggleborns more than anyone else. She knew that they would seize every opportunity to hurt those around them whose blood was less ‘pure’ than theirs. Every inch of her wanted to scream out at Alecto and stab her finger at her chest, shouting that it was her fault that the Ravenclaw was dead.
However she didn’t. Perhaps it was the lingering guilt that wouldn’t leave her alone or the overwhelming tiredness that covered her body
Her eyes flashed when the red head let out a spiteful laugh, cackling over the death of a poor innocent who should’ve never been there in the first place. Oh, but she wasn’t going to let her get away with t h a t
She had to pull herself together; bind her bleeding heart up tightly because this wasn’t the place nor time. Not in front of a Carrow. Her father would’ve told her; ‘Courage dear heart’ and squeezed her hand gently. She had to find that courage, she knew it was there, inside her and she had to leave her grief and guilt behind. There was no place for it when a Snake was watching her every move.
“Shouldn’t you get back to your celebrations?” she hissed, her mouth set in a straight line, trying to keep a handle on her temper. “Well I suppose the fact that most of Slytherin hates you could make your parties a little awkward. It says something that even they can see that you’re a scaly little reptile,”
















