Through The Looking Glass
« Rain pools of despair »
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Through The Looking Glass
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Amy Simmons Head Of House [M0n:250] member is offline
Joined: Jan 2006 Gender: Female Posts: 4,869 Karma: 1,507
Rain pools of despair « Thread Started on Feb 22, 2008, 11:24pm »
((This is actually Sue's post, not mine.))
It was bitterly cold outside which accentuated Hope’s already dark mood. Even her beautiful green eyes had lost their sparkle. They were pits of despair long since vacated by hope. Rain fell to the ground in heavy droplets, masking the tears in her eyes. The rain both angered and reassured her. It was reassuring that the awful weather at least washed away and hid her tears and it drowned out the sounds of her footsteps. Yet , to an observing witch or wizard it would have looked odd that she had not cast a water repelling charm, but her mind was too occupied to think logically. The thought of the dark magic encompassing the area chilled Hope to the bone, even more so than the rain. She had not asked to get involved with any of this. It was all her parents fault – both her blood relative relatives and her adoptive family. She longed for an escape, longed for a days rest. She did not want to join Voldemort’s army but the pressure was increasingly being piled on by her family and so called friends. And now was only the beginning – buying a secret item from Borgin and Burkes.
« Last Edit: Feb 22, 2008, 11:26pm by Amy Simmons »
Amy Simmons Head Of House [M0n:250] member is offline
Joined: Jan 2006 Gender: Female Posts: 4,869 Karma: 1,507
Re: Rain pools of despair « Reply #1 on Feb 24, 2008, 9:55pm »
To all but those who intimately knew her, Julianna was a Death Eater. That she was one of many of Fenrir Greyback's illegitimate offspring lent credibility to the façade. Yet a façade it was. Upon her left forearm, she sported the Dark Mark, the symbol of the Dark Lord's greatness. It appeared authentic, yet was as authentic as a transfer. Julianna was competent and fully qualified in the Dark Arts; to be applied solely in self-defence, as it happened, but she did not advertise that. She nodded, smirking, at a boy, who could have been no older than 12, who passed her, the slogan on his hoodie read 'Save the world, kill mudbloods'. She casually lighted a cigarette, inhaling harmless smoke which had the distinct odour of tobacco, for effect. She considered the Order of the Phoenix to be part of her extended family, she had not had the 'pleasure' of meeting her father, and she had no intention of meeting him. Although she was not employed by the Order, she occasionally visited Knockturn Alley to meet people such as Hope, young people who, given the opportunity, would convert. People with valuable inside knowledge. There was something in Hope's demeanour which conveyed 'no part of me wishes to be here', and her grey eyes studied Hope intensely. She gave the impression of gazing casually about her, to avoid arousing suspicion, and had positioned herself upon a bench, opposite Borgin and Burke's.
Re: Rain pools of despair « Reply #2 on Feb 26, 2008, 8:18pm »
Hope was too busy worrying about the task in hand to notice that she was being watched. She took the last few footsteps to the entrance to Borkin and Burkes, the shop that contained items of unfathomable evil. Her gloved fingers nervously touched the door. Then, taking a deep shuddering breath of the rain soaked air, she entered. The interior of the shop was black, just like the magic within. The flaming torches on each of the walls of the room cast an eerie light over the interior.
Hope had expected to see the owner 'greeting' her. However, a young man stood at the counter who she vaguely recognized as an acquaintance of her adoptive parents. His hair was ebony, as if he had absorbed the darkness and evil held within the room. It was slicked back with a substance that oddly had no shine to it. It seemed as though he had put shoe polish through his hair. However, his eyes shone brightly in the gloom. The flickering flames reflected upon his irises. In his hand he held a necklace, which he had been busily examining before Hope had entered. He was not startled by her entrance. First of all, he knew that she was due to visit the shop that day and secondly he had sensed her arrival about a minute before she came in. He felt elements of innocence and even of, hell forbid, goodness emitting from her. This inkling was confirmed when he took one glance into her eyes.
"Silverback!" he snarled, "How very nice of you to grace us with your presence. We've been expecting you."
Hope was a little disturbed by his use of 'we'. She imagined a thousand scrutinizing eyes in every nook and cranny of the room. Indeed, some of the magical artifacts were capable of looking deep within a person. One such object began to let out a sooty, smoky substance which crept closer and closer to Hope as she spoke.
She let out a short, fake laugh and began to adopt the act she become accustomed to. It was as if her whole life had become a stage on which to act, yet she was not truly the director.
Giving Wilkes a disapproving look, Hope scoffed, "Wilkes, I appreciate you giving me a moment of your time. But, seriously, I didn't come here to speak to you. I was told to expect someone important."
"I am he," Wilkes said grandly, without looking at Hope. Instead, he eyed the dark smoke beginning to surround her suspiciously. The artefact had never behaved in that manner inside the shop. It was used to detect impostors - people who were not evil through and through. He had been right, there was something suspicious about her, and that made him reluctant to give her the item he knew that she had come for.
Hope regarded Wilkes for a moment, distracted by the beauty in his eyes. They were just like her mothers. Shaking herself out of the daze, she said, "Just give me the d**n chest will you!"
"Been feeling a little flat have we?" Wilkes said. He was referring to Hope's breasts, which had become smaller since her recent spate of not eating; food was the last of her worries.
"I really don't have time for this. Give me the box or you'll get some serious trouble!"
"Serious trouble, she says. Ooh-hoo-hoo now we wouldn't want that would we? Not with the Dark Lord on our side. Oh no! She might, heaven forbid, get help from Potter and his mudblood and blood-traitor friends. Oh we're so scared!" Wilkes said.
"Do you always refer to yourself as we?" Hope inquired, losing her patience. The smoke was now only a meter away.
"Doesn't know much about this shop does she?... So it's the magical little chest you're after eh? ... And who, may I ask, sent you for it?" Wilkes enquired.
"That information is confidential." Hope said flatly, unaware of the smoke drawing ever closer.
"Confidential, she says. Well ... I don't think she should g-"
"Listen, I'm really losing my patience," Hope interrupted. "Just give me the chest and I'll not trouble you again. And I'd trust you never to trouble me either."
"I'll give you the chest ... on one condition." The smoke was growing thicker, as if binding Hope in chains. "... On your cowering deathbed in front of the Dark Lord, when he sees how pathetic you are, put in a good word for me, eh?"
"Yes, yes. Whatever!" Hope said, not really listening.
Wilkes skulked off into a storage room in the back of the shop and returned a few moments later clutching a miniature chest. Like most of the other artifacts in the room, it was dark as ebony. Even the metal was black, cast iron Hope supposed. The smoky substance was now beginning to wrap itself around her wrists. She shook her hands violently to release herself and stifled a scream.
"We do not have in our possession the key. I trust you will know of its whereabouts." Wilkes said, returning to the counter. Hope had moved a few meters to the left but the movement of the substance coming from the artifact had accelerated.
"Yes we know exactly where it is," Hope lied.
Wilkes pushed the chest towards Hope. But, just as she was about to grab it, he pulled it away, watching as the smoke grew even more ferocious. Hope tried her best to ignore it and glared menacingly at Wilkes.
"My, you look so handsome when you're angry." Wilkes cackled before finally handing her the box. "We should go on a date sometime! I wouldn't bring that stuff with you though. Might get it the way. You ought to be careful you know. The Dark Lord doesn't need magic to sense you have weaknesses."
The moment the chest met Hope's hand, the smoke slowly withdrew from her. It slithered back into the object it had emerged from, clearly satisfied with the evil Hope had gained simply by holding the artifact.
"I'd rather date Voldemort himself!" Hope said, suppressing the urge to shudder at his name.
"Good day!" she snarled, stalking out of the shop, wand at the ready.
Amy Simmons Head Of House [M0n:250] member is offline
Joined: Jan 2006 Gender: Female Posts: 4,869 Karma: 1,507
Re: Rain pools of despair « Reply #3 on Feb 27, 2008, 10:55pm »
The smoke which had gradually crept towards Hope retreated into the object from whence it came. Evil had surely not posessed her soul through one conversation? She doubted it. Her mother had survived 8 years in the notorious werewolf camp, and she was not evil, a conversation could not alter much. Although Hope appeared livid, she could sense her fear. No part of her wished to be in this position, that much was blatent. With a passing glance at Wilkes, she inhaled the false tobacco, casually, appearing thorougly relaxed. The moment the door had closed, Julianna rolled her eyes, and smirked, to demonstrate that she was not an ally of Wilkes'. "Self-opinionated git," she commented, calmly. Observant, she noted the direction which Hope had intended to turn in, and stepped lightly, yet purposefully, towards the entrance of shop, which she did not intend to enter. This was not through fear. She intended for Hope to either ignore her, harrass her, address her, or fearfully scuttle in the opposite direction. She was apathetic as to which option she decided upon. But the prospect of an additional convert was inviting. She could defend herself, and could be as acid-tongued as a Death Eater. She expected Hope not to trust her. In these dark times, no one could trust anyone, for the Order of the Phoenix, anyone could be a potential Death Eater. For Death Eaters, likewise, anyone could be an auror. She was prepared for any eventuality, her wand was securely placed in her sleeve, should she require it. She was not a threat to Hope, however. Under normal circumstances, a protego would suffice. This would have the unpleasant consequence of cursing her enemy by his or her own hand, but it was a mild charm, in comparison to other charms she had learned intimately. She waited for Hope's reaction, alert but unwilling to attack before she had reason to.
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