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Post by BELLATRIX DRUELLA BLACK on Jan 28, 2012 11:34:28 GMT -5
  “Would you please watch where you’re going?!” snapped Bellatrix Black, as she strode through the main street in Diagon Alley. The young boy that had just collided with her looked up apologetically before ducking his head and running to stand next to his parents. His mother, who had just seen her son run into Bellatrix quickly apologized, but Bellatrix sent a glare in her direction and strode past the young family without a word. Politeness didn’t come easily to the seventeen year old Slytherin; in fact, it didn’t really come to her at all. Raised in one of the most elite Pureblood families, manners and grace were expected to come naturally. Her sisters pulled it off effortlessly, but Bellatrix could never quite grasp the concept. Several passers-by were staring at her in shock, having seen the display of her atrocious manners. They too, received a glare from the young Death Eater, as she turned the corner, heading in the direction of the Leaky Cauldron.
It was a cold autumn day, the bitter wind stinging her face as she strode purposefully on. Bella pulled her jacket tighter around her thin frame, wishing not for the first time she had had the sense to wear a thicker coat. It was a Hogsmeade weekend for the students of Hogwarts, but Bellatrix never had any intentions of staying in the confines of the small wizarding village. All of the students would be gathered in small groups, laughing and chattering with each other as they showed of their new purchases. It was always the same, weekends in which Hogwarts students were allowed out of the castle brought a happy, carefree feeling to the village of Hogsmeade. It was enough to put Bellatrix off the village for life. And so, a quick apparation brought her to Diagon Alley.
And yet, as always, Bellatrix planned to spend the day alone. As much as she liked to think her company was desirable, there were few that would choose to spend any time alone with her. Not that she could really blame them for their choice. Her arrogant, egotistical, superior attitude made people keep their distance. And so she told herself she didn’t care, and that she preferred her own company anyway.
She walked into the Leaky Cauldron, reveling in the warmth of the pub. It was not as warm, as say, the Three Broomsticks would have been, full to the brim with Hogwarts students. It was quite busy and loud, but it meant she was less likely to be noticed. And most importantly, there was no one from Hogwarts in sight. She pulled off her jacket and sat down, in a small booth tucked into a corner. Within seconds, the bartender was next to her, asking what she would like to drink. She smirked, being a member of the Black family did have its advantages, she didn’t have to approach the bar every time she wanted a drink, and most likely, at the end of her visit, the bartender would insist her drinks were on the house. Another bonus of having the surname Black. “Firewhisky.” She snapped. Her drink arrived in a matter of second, and she took a drink, twisting her face as the alcohol burnt her throat. She smirked, if only her mother could see her now. The perfect Pureblood daughter? Not quite.
ATTIRE
[/color] Here! CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS save me - my darkest days NOTES Open!! WORD COUNT 557 [/center][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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Post by ANDREW BENJAMIN GRIFFITH on Feb 16, 2012 15:54:17 GMT -5
 Swallowing another mouthful of firewhiskey, Andrew Griffith grimaced slightly at the burning sensation as it trickled down his throat. It took getting used to-firewhiskey-but after the third or fourth sip then the burning quickly subsided. Instead it turned to an odd tingling, which was the first sign that the alcohol was having any affect at all. Though for Andrew, that feeling usually didn't come around until he was starting in on a second glass. It was almost as if he had developed a tolerance for the alcohol, and boy was that nice on days when he needed a drink, but wasn't allowed to get completely hammered. He had responsibilities...supposedly. At least that was what people told him. Now whether he actually listened to them or not was a different story.
Grinding his teeth as another burst of wind entered the pub, Andrew pulled the collar of his Muggle coat closer to his neck to act as a buffer against the cold air. He sometimes wished that he had never left Florida, where it was actually warm, and there was a palm tree on every corner. Not to mention there were a considerably lesser number of Death Eaters in the U.S. So at least there he didn't have to deal with snide remarks about being a Mudblood. Moving back almost sounded enticing, but the few friends he had lived here. Not there. And he didn't make friends. Unless the definition of friends had swapped places with the definition of enemies. Which to his knowledge, it hadn't.
One of his few friends, well no, he would stick with the word acquantainces, actually worked at the Three Broomsticks. Though Tom was nice to just about anyone who walked through. Including the nastiest of people, he snorted as he leaned against the bar, surveying the room. He didn't know half of the wizards or witches dwelling in the business, but the ones he did know, he didn't like. Including the girl who just happened to sit down in the seat beside him.
If she had known any better, he was sure she would have picked a seat anywhere else but there. He wasn't sure if she knew him-she probably didn't-but he knew enough that he could identify her as a member of the Black house. A house that was notorious for its hatred and discrimination of muggleborns. Not to mention, the Order had tipped every member off that nearly every member of the Black family was likely to be a Death Eater.
Not that Andrew was too worried about this one. She looked like she was young enough to still be a pathetic Hogwarts student. "Tsk, tsk, underage drinking." He clicked his tongue before gulping down another mouthful of firewhiskey. Not that he actually cared, but be cared about giving prats like the Blacks a bad time. They deserved it, and it was moderately amusing for him. "Shouldn't you be, I don't know..studying? ..Or torturing innocent souls." The last part being more of a mutter, than a direct statement, as he smirked condescendingly at the girl.
tag ;; bellatrix
word count ;; 530
notes ;; hope it's okay that i jumped in ^^
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Post by BELLATRIX DRUELLA BLACK on Feb 25, 2012 15:48:55 GMT -5
It was only when she heard a voice next to her that Bellatrix became aware that she wasn’t sitting by herself. She had sat down at what she had originally thought was an empty booth. So wrapped up in her thoughts, she had barely noticed there was already someone sitting there. She turned around to face the person who had just spoken. He was young, and looked oddly familiar. She frowned slightly, she was fairly certain she had never spoken to him in her life, but all the same, his face triggered some sort of memory in her head.
Her moment of confusion was put to one side however, as he finished his sentence. It was as much as she could do to keep from rolling her eyes. It wasn’t like she hadn’t heard that one before. It was what she heard every time she volunteered to carry out a task for the Dark Lord. The older, graduated Death Eaters would laugh; ask her how she planned to do anything for the Dark Lord while she was still at school. Bella honestly couldn’t wait to be out of Hogwarts.
“Well I don’t see anybody else complaining,” she replied almost teasingly. Her eyes lingered on his glass of Firewhisky; they had the same tastes in alcohol in any case. It wasn’t how people generally expected Bellatrix Black to respond, they expected her to fire off a sarcastic and often impolite comment. And to be fair, it was normally how she responded to people. But this time she spoke lightly, simply because she was certain she recognized the man sitting next to her. It would do her no good to start an argument with someone who could turn out to be a friend of a friend etc.
At his next comment however, her reply was decidedly more sharp and to the point. “I hardly see how that’s any of your business,” she responded coldly. He was mocking her, and judging by the smirk plastered on his face, he was enjoying it. She was so used to smirking at younger students as she watched them avoid her in the corridors out of fear, that a smirk on anybody else’s face simply infuriated her. She only just heard his next comment despite sitting right next to him. Her eyes flashed dangerously, who was he? “Have we met before?” she demanded, taking another drink out of her glass.
ATTIRE
[/color] Here! CREDIT SAM !? of A Changed Hogwarts. Don't remove the credit or I will find you. LYRICS save me - my darkest days NOTES Of course it is! WORD COUNT 404 [/center][/size][/blockquote][/blockquote] |
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