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“Such a relief to not have to listen to the prattlings of a loony old bag at the beginning of dinner anymore,” Bellatrix swung about in her seat, surveying the crowd and speaking to no one in particular, “His voice always made it hard to digest - sort of like listening to an old bagpipe being stepped on. At least the new Headmaster knows when to shut up.” She shot a sparing glance to the front of the hall, lips curling upward into a cyanide smile at the sight of a freshly silenced McGonagall, and a largely uncertain staff. Swirling her drink about in her goblet - as if it were wine and not pumpkin juice - she stood, watching with lackadaisical attention as the first years scurried from the hall first, leaving little time for the rest of them to collect themselves.

In fact, the chaos seemed tenfold tonight; Bellatrix, ignoring all semblance of mannerism following her cynical little speech, stepped up onto the bench alongside the table, and began to walk, the way clearing before her - for those seated alongside knew they would be trampled otherwise. She stopped a few sections of bench down, one hand on her hip and the other holding the goblet to her lips; another glance up at the new Headmaster, and her smile grew once more -

- until a second year knocked into her eye-level knees and nearly sent her sprawling into what remained of the pudding. “Hey!” she barked, regaining her balance, hulking over the cowering Hufflepuff like a cobra over a mouse, “Touch me again, you bloody idiot - see what happens. Watch where you’re going.” She straightened, tugged at her sleeve with a pointed sniff, and then to no one in particular once more, “Now that Dumbledore’s not here, I may actually be able to get him back for that.”

#lexstarter #this is super vague and general so if you want a more specific one just hit me up :)))

9 September, 1976

Severus tried in vain to brush some of the smudges off of the front of his robes as he made his way down to Professor Slughorn’s office, just barely on time. How his robes got dirty already, he wasn’t sure, but it wasn’t in good taste to roll into a Slug Club meeting looking like a mess. Not that he needed to impress Slughorn any further - he was already quite fond of Severus - but there would be other people there, and, well, he didn’t want to look like a complete disaster. He hated that he cared at all, but there it was.

He didn’t even particularly like the Slug Club - social gatherings, dinner parties, none of it was his area of expertise. But he knew the prestige that could come along with membership, and the potential connections that could be afforded by attendance, so every year he continued to suffer through the banal meetings.

After rounding the corner of the last corridor before his destination, he had stepped towards the open door when a familiar face appeared.

“Oh, it’s you.”

#lexstarter #open #anyone who might be down near the slug club meeting can answer #so literally anyone lol

Another year. Another day. Dorcas had become accustomed to the motions of Hogwarts. Yet, this year was different. Albus Dumbledore would not be leading the school. She watched the opening ceremony, the young children sorted into their houses. A small smile crossed her face each time the Hat said Hufflepuff. The best house, least in her opinion.

This year felt different and she couldn’t place her finger on why. It wasn’t because Dumbledore was gone, though that struck a nerve within her heart. He was the one who had told her she was a witch the first time. He was the one who made sure she felt at home and knew everything about the Wizarding World.

Dorcas ate and quickly exited the Great Hall, immediately catching sights of someone she knew.

“Hey! Ready for classes tomorrow?”

#( starter. )#( september. )#lexstart #lexstarter #this is awful but i'm forcing my muse

here comes the nighttime.

Annika had forgotten what it was like, the ability to stop and enjoy life rather than constantly be thrown into the fast-lane. Each city that she attended knew her name, they fawned over her looks and spoke in chatters about her personal life. Never to her, always to one another. She had grown accustomed to being an outsider in a place where people wanted to delve deep inside of her life and act as though they'd prefer to know her personally. It was nothing to take to heart, she learned to take what she could get and ignore the rest. So, she smiled when they spoke to her and laughed along with their jokes, whether or not she actually found them to be humorous. Not any people were able to see a genuine smile or laugh from the young woman, though most were easily fooled by the mask that she had practiced each morning in the mirror and only took off at night to fall asleep in her much too large bed. Her own family didn't know her anymore, not really. She barely spoke to her siblings, her mother only spoke to her to talk to her about a photoshoot or ask if she had gotten a particular film deal. Acting, modeling, if it could pay a bill, it was important to senora Montaya. Otherwise, it wasn't anything worth holding a conversation over.

Her old hometown was a strange place to find herself. It had been a stop along the way, as she ventured to a few cities over to work on a photoshoot that she had in roughly two weeks. Curiosity had taken hold of her as she wondered if any of her old friends would still be there. Her family had since relocated, but she wasn't particularly interested in seeing them anyhow. It would only mean more fake laughter, insincere smiles and love that just lacked. She was instead locked in a hope that maybe, just perhaps, she would run into high school friends, people who knew her as someone else. As a person who enjoyed dancing around in the hallways to no music in particular, as the girl who fell down a single stair and still managed to fracture her ankle. Not as a familiar beauty but as someone who could equate to them. She supposed it was much too much to ask for, maybe a little too poetic and highly pretentious but she had already decided not to tell anyone her real reason for having sought out the old town.

She had moved away for college. It was then that she had been discovered for modeling and eventually a little while later, for acting. While she hadn't played a leading woman or even a leading male's love interest just yet, she supposed the time would come soon enough. Her agent was working on something great, something that she wasn't even in the 'know' about. Acting and modeling were vastly different, albeit most might not think of it that way. She preferred to see it as art, a type that people could enjoy without ever having to be too terribly interested in. She sighed, her mind echoed how pretentious she could be and reminded herself to act like herself when she ran into anyone.

It was early on a Wednesday morning. Not particularly cold, but she still donned a fashionable jacket and a scarf that kept her warm enough as she pulled open a coffee shop door. She pulled her wayfarer sunglasses off of her face as soon as she entered the old, too familiar place. The smell was the same, of fresh baked muffins and the beautiful, absolutely wonderful smell of coffee. As soon as she stood in the small line of three people in front of her, she craved for her favorite French vanilla cup. She pulled her wallet out of the purse slung across her body and pulled out a crisp five dollar bill as the line moved ever so slightly. She caught a glimpse of the woman in front of her and without a single thought, tapped her arm gently. A smile tugged on her lips as she greeted her, "Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." A terrible introduction, she sighed. "You know what, I never was good with being smooth."

#lexstarter #bridgetcatherineregan #para001.

feel good, inc.

The sky outside read an in-between of night and morning as Chloe sat with her knees to her chest on her family's roof. There was a certain silence that only came with that particular time, on that roof, with a cigarette burning between her index and middle fingers. She rolled it slightly between them, fixated on the smoke that slowly burned. There was a certain chill that caused tiny bumps to raise on the skin of her uncovered arms, though it didn't cause her to reach inside to grab a sweater. She easily could have. On her bed lay scattered were several different articles of clothing, all of which only required half of her body inside of the window to pick something to cover herself with. Instead, she remained outside, a black half-shirt that only covered just above her belly button and read a band's name just barely legible and a dark red skirt were all she had to keep her body warm. With warmth on her mind, she brought the cigarette to her lips, inhaled deeply, and then flicked the cigarette off of the roof. As she stood slowly, she exhaled, and watched as the smoke dissipated into the air. She stood still, glanced at the ground, and with a sick curiosity, thought about the last time someone she knew was on a roof. Perhaps it wasn't the last time, she didn't know anyone well enough to tell if anyone had the same hobbies as herself, the same safe spaces. The redhead closed her eyes but before she could even consider taking a step forward, she felt a vibration in her pocket.

"Don't forget. Party tonight. Victoria."

Chloe sighed after she read the text, jammed the phone back into her skirt's pocket and wondered for a moment why jeans made for women had to be so small. It was then that she turned around and reentered her room through the window. Her room was by far, one of the biggest messes that she could have ever hoped to create. That much she was sure of, she thought, with a smile as she shut the window. Already dressed and ready for the day, Chloe was able to spend the rest of the day in a lazy haze. She laid in bed listening to music for the rest of the morning, eventually threw some clothes into her closet in an effort to clean just a little bit, and then surfed the internet for a little while longer. By the time Max found her way to her place, she was what she considered to be ready. "What have you done all day?"

"Just chilled," Chloe's voice had a tendency to sound more like a purr, "Something you wouldn't know if it bit you on the ass." Chloe reapplied her make-up in a cracked mirror that she had since her father gave it to her birthday as a child. The strangest gifts were what she had been able to hold onto. Even when they were dirty, trashed, or otherwise broken, she simply couldn't fathom the loss of them. She supposed that was a weakness, her inability to let go of the possessions that were from him. Still, she said nothing on the subject as her friend blabbered on about something or another. Her powers. The deaths. Everything that had happened, Chloe's near deaths.

"Are you sure that you're going to be able to get along with her for long enough? Maybe I should do this." Max seemed nervous. Which, to be fair, she almost always did. Chloe watched her, a bored expression etched into her features. She sighed as she twisted her red-blonde locks in her hair, a polar opposite of the blue that she had only months prior. She thought it was homage to Rachel, but perhaps she desperately needed the change. "Chloe."

"Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I'll get the princess and we'll figure out a way to occupy our time." Her voice, this time, was less flirtatious and more of a growl. Hostile. She didn't want anything to do with any of this mess, but she supposed it was the only way she would find out about Rachel. About what had happened to Max and to everyone else. How her life had turned upside down so quickly. How she had almost died. She swallowed hard at the thought and then looked around. The outside of the establishment that they had found themselves outside of looked normal enough.

Now, as she entered, all she had to do was find her.

#para001.#bridgetcatherineregan #lexstarter