Hogwarts & The Society of Teeth Read 1438 times


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Hogwarts & The Society of Teeth
« on: January 21, 2016, 02:21:14 pm »

Demetria was hated. It wasn’t some sad teen notion or problem of the day. It was a fact of life at this point. She was a sixth year, porcelain skinned with lips painted like a doll. Her hair was curled in thick rings of auburn and clothes in perfect, pressed order. Fingers turned another page of the large book laid out and open on the library table in front of her. She picked up her quill and dabbed the ink before making more notes. She never smudged. Not the paper or her fingers. Not anything. Not ever.

If she wasn’t so dedicated to her role she might have looked up when sound erupted from one end of the library. Nero and three of his closest friends—also Gryffindors, practically stumbled into the large room of books and students. They were met with a harsh warning and Nero smiled brightly, lifting an apologetic hand to the librarian and swatting one of his friends with the other to shush them.

Demetria closed her book and stood. She collected her things and pretended not to notice the stretches of empty seats around her, while students crowded in the other spaces of the room. She understood, of course. Nero had made sure she took the blame for a number of horrible acts these past years. Fear was the best way to create solitude. Solitude. It wasn’t even exactly true. She had companions, but they were wicked hearted, members of her own house. They believed she had committed terrible crimes. They believed she was vengeful and evil and welcomed her with open arms. She never went without when she kept to her own house.

She let her dark eyes drift over Nero when she passed him on her way for the door. He was like a walking sun, bright and warm with life gathering around him. She felt like the moon, banished when he entered, cold and gleaming in the dark. Even their parents believed he was a shame to their pure bloodline, soft hearted and good natured and sympathetic to the plight of the mudbloods.

Demetria left the library, the heels of her boots making soft sounds on ancient floors, skirts long and blouse pressed. Her green bowtie was perfectly straight and her pack hung with books and quills over her shoulder. Maud and Crillin squealed when they saw her, hurrying to join her. Maud hissed about how they had thought she’d be late for class. Crillin sucked sugar from her black painted nails and asked what class. Demetria ignored them but let them walk her down the long corridor. They were the best she had in friends and she wouldn’t be fool enough to trust either with a sharp object and her back. Maybe that was what being Slytherin was.

She heard Nero laughing, that warm jovial sound, echoing out the library doors before they swung shut. She wondered then, not for the first time, if that had been his plan all along—to give her no choice but to be wicked. Was she wicked? Was it enough that everyone believed it? It would be easy to give in to it, wouldn’t it? Then why had she resisted all these years? What would he do if she made it through her last years without folding to the nature of their bloodline?

Demetria parted ways with Crillin and Maud when she reached the set of twisting, uneven, stairs that led up to her sixth year Potions class. Neither Crillin nor Maud had made it in to that particular level and shuffled off toward Herbology. They were both repeating. Neither girl was all that dumb but they had a joint dislike of studying that Demetria had witnessed developing into a miniature revolt over the years. Leave it to those two to revolt against knowledge.

Despite her love of classes, Demetria dreaded this one. There was no escaping that familiar face, that first mistake, first friend, first rumored crime. She tipped her chin high and pushed the door open.


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Re: Hogwarts & The Society of Teeth
« Reply #1 on: February 07, 2016, 09:16:16 pm »
It wasn’t uncommon for Nero to hit.  Benji had learned this last year, and he’d also learned to position himself far to the left and out of range when appearing as part of the entourage.  The elder Gryffindor insisted upon being surrounded by adoring fans.  Now that he was head boy, it was no different.  Benji understood that part of Prefect duty meant being seen – an expression of house solidarity – but everyone knew only one Gryffindor was in charge.

Not that it mattered.  One more year and Nero would be gone, replaced by someone else equally blinded by his own popularity.  In the meantime, Benji tried to keep a low profile and out of the way of the stick.  The stick was worse than the wand, hidden behind a smile, and used more often than the carrot.

Benji kept his expression carefully blank while Nero moved to keep the peace.  His eyes scanned the area looking for the potential source of entertainment, the reason why Nero had come.  Benji suspected he found it as Nero’s sister made quick work of her own departure from the bright star.

“I need to get to class,” Benji muttered, Demetria’s movements reminding him of his own schedule.  “Potions.” Hardly something to be excited over, but a necessary evil all the same.   At least it was a blended class, now that NEWTs were over.  He wouldn’t have to put up with as much house rivalry in the interest of science.

He started to drift towards the door.  Not so close to Demetria that it would appear he was following, not so fast as to be perceived as leaving without permission.  He adjusted the book bag on his shoulder, looked out the window and took a few more steps to the door.

Betsy should be around here somewhere…

The sixth year felt a bit like the White Rabbit, late for an important date, but still waiting on Alice, as he inched his way to the exit.


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Re: Hogwarts & The Society of Teeth
« Reply #2 on: February 10, 2016, 05:24:07 am »
It was sprinkling outside. She listened to the musical tapping on the window while twirling her loosened crimson bowtie around her finger. She was perched at the low sill, skirts drawn around curled knees and an open book cozied in her lap. The illustrated head of a Welsh Green peeked over her Potions assignment. Betsy's work was laid out over the pages of “Dragons, Species of Great Britain and Ireland.” This spot was peaceful for reading, much more than the library, where it seemed the stress was thick and everything needed to be for schoolwork but nothing for the priming of young, witch's and wizard’s imaginations. In the long corridor by the large bay window she could see the lake and the forest ahead. Something about the dark wood pulled a longing from within her that she found hard to ignore.

With the gentle rain it was too blurry to see that deep into the trees today. But there was still plenty of light for her other interests, which should have included Potions. She pressed her forehead against the glass and tried to focus on the listed characteristics and ingredients of the previous class's studied Elixir to Induce Euphoria, however the temptation to wait until class to check over it was overpowering.

When she heard the clock down the hall chime, her head shot up in panic. Class already? She had certainly been wrapped up longer than she imagined. Time seemed to flit and flutter away when one became victim to her own thoughts. Betsy stood, closing her book and shoving it with her Potions assignment into her bag before adjusting her skirt so that she could run without tripping on it down the corridor.

Benji was waiting outside the library where they usually met before class, likely antsy due to her tardiness. Her twin brother perked up when he saw her rushing, relieved but also slightly annoyed. His rusty curls were pushed back; the pair shared the thick, stereotypical tinted reddish-brown locks of the Scotts. Hers was falling loose from the bun she normally had it pulled it back in, little wisps tickling her inked dragon’s drawn wingtips.

“We’ve got four minutes. Where’ve you been?” Their matching hazel-green eyes simultaneously caught the clock’s minute hand ticking gravely, His were more hazel while hers were more green, but at the briefest glance they were the same. It would be quite dangerous to make the Potions Master cross and waiting for each student. Four minutes…that was barely enough to make it to the dungeon in this huge castle, but somehow she had made it in less time for other classes.

Even when she was not trying, the girl ended up pushing her limits.

“I’m sorry I don’t have time to socialize with the fun crowd as you do.” She mocked, referring to Nero and the other boys he hung out with. “I was checking my work for the Elixir.” It was partially true, but he probably knew better. She’d been more interested in other facts on a completely different subject. But she had at least attempted the double-checking. "I think I have the knack of it, but I wanted to make sure.” She smiled at her brother, matching his sense of urgency. “Have ya checked yours?” He probably had. The boy had a likeness for concoctions. “Or are ya just so smart it didn’t need the checkin’?” She teased him in her Scottish lilt.

“Not much to check, you know you get it right once you see the rainbow emit. I’m sure you’re familiar with those due to your constant state of head-in-the-clouds.” He teased back- but it was almost in a crankier fashion. She certainly deserved the temperament, though. Betsy chuckled, glad that she was at least familiar with the mentioned characteristic of the potion. The pair of them made excellent marks in the majority of their classes, although Benjamin’s Potions success may have been more deserving. He was knowledgeable about extracts, additives, herbs and actually enjoyed the subject, while Betsy usually went on her instincts and got lucky…sometimes. She wished she had the mental stamina for schoolwork that he did. He seemed to give her a knowing look in the dimly-lit hallway.

They took the dreadful staircase down and reached the dungeons just in time. Betsy was the last student to be seated, taking her usual spot beside her brother and pulling out her textbook. She also snatched up her earlier leisure read and pulled the battered assignment from its pages. She smoothed the bent edges out and quickly ran her eyes over what she’d written out. But Betsy hadn’t the time to finish before the work was taken from her hands without warning.

“I’ll be collecting your recipes early. Please have them ready to turn in.”

There were certain perks to sitting at the front of class, but then again, Benjamin’s insistence to be close had jinxed them out of any last-minute corrections. Perhaps he had thought to train his sister out of her habitual tendency to put things off, or perhaps he was just interested in learning. It didn’t matter because she still had not double-checked her work.

Professor Obenauf was known to take assignments unexpectedly and assign at random as well. He had all of the characteristics of an intimidating Potions Master with his sharp features, silvery pointed beard, and cold, black eyes. But the shrill and girly sound of his voice took away any bit of terror that could be felt at first glance. For a German man, his accent was quite understated due to the pitch of his vocals. Additionally, his homework policies were a bit unfair, making him an unpleasant person in general.

Betsy did a glance around the room to see if anyone else had been ready for the due date. Her eyes usually passed over Demetria Dinaskas without a second look, and Nathaniel Turner seemed quite prepared, as usual. Betsy didn’t know why this annoyed her, so she turned back to face the front.

“Yellow in color” was listed first on the board as one of the characteristics of the elixir. Of course due to the color of something being such an obvious trait, Betsy had not thought to record it. She hoped she had not missed any of the others.
« Last Edit: February 10, 2016, 06:15:15 am by Pach_Work »