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Post by likearose on Feb 10, 2010 19:08:19 GMT
﴾ DON'T YOU MAKE A MOVE TONIGHT ﴿ [/font]   ﴾ YOU CAN ONLY STAGGER ONCE SHE'S GOT YOU ﴿[/font] in her sight you're the one she's after 'cause she's the blade and you're just paper[/font][/center]
it was was cold in the corridors, something that was unusual for hogwarts. especially around this time of year, heating harms in the castle usually being up to scratch. however, despite the cold, the blonde girl was wearing little more than harem pants, and a jumper, slippers fitted on her feet making small whispers on the ground as she shuffled along. her body was wracked with shivers, no matter how warm she felt. illness had come to the castle, teachers, students, everyone was down and out, only a minority being unaffected. most of slytherin were lucky, escaping unscathed, a miracle in disguise. how they had managed it, she'd never know, the cold in the dungeons enough to make anyone ill.
she had been ill for two days. it was the first time she had left her room, preferring to huddle in her bed, in close vicinity to the toilet, which she seemed to close friends with. that, and she didn't have the strength. at first it was assumed to be a new strain of wizard flu, but those symptoms weren't as deadly as the one's she was experiencing. she couldn't use her magic, the pain she felt on a simple 'lumos' earlier in the day caused excruciating pain, and left her in agony for almost an hour. and she was sweltering, but her hand and face were ice cold.
however bad things seemed, she was lucky in some ways. her birthday wasn't for a few weeks. so she was still sixteen. she hadn't come into her inheritance yet, hadn't acquired her full magical potential. some of the older students had looked to be in agony when she spotted them in the kitchens earlier way worse then she was feeling.
the dirty looks had started the bay she had gotten ill, and she could barely look at any of the slytherins without feeling like she would be crushed under their feet. jersey used to be the top dog. what had changed? as she shuffled along the third flood corridor, she pondered the issue, chesty coughs shacking her small frame. her vision, blurry from the lack of light in the darkened hallways, and from having little sleep, began to blur even farther, so that, when the staircase she was about to step on move, she only noticed at the last second, staring down three floors at the ground floor corridors below her, a dizzy, sick feeling haunting her.
﴾ TAGGED ?! ﴿ openn
﴾ OUTFIT ?! ﴿ heree?!
﴾ LYRICS ?! ﴿ she's the blade by sugarcult!
﴾ WORDS ?! ﴿ dunnno, weel short though =/
﴾ NOTES ?! ﴿ rather carp, i'm sorry.
﴾ CREDIT ?! ﴿ template made by peridot • words at CAUTION 2.0! you're afraid cause she's got closer you're back-stepping and she's back-stabbing [/font] ﴾ EVERYTHING IN YOUR LIFE SHE STOLE ﴿[/font] ﴾ EVERYTHING YOUR HEART DESIRES ﴿[/font] [/center][/size] |
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Post by remy on Feb 16, 2010 16:19:15 GMT
 I MAKE THEM GOOD GIRLS GO BAD GOOD GIRLS[/color] go bad, good girls go bad i know your type, daddy's little girl[/i][/center] As it was mid-February now, Hogwarts would usually be a plagued castle anyway. However, as the virus had had an incubation period, Remy and her friends were finally reaping the benefits of their months of hard work the previous autumn and winter. Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and even some Slytherins were sniffing about feeling sorry for themselves. Whole dorms barracaded themselves in their respective rooms, calling in house elves, who were immune, to get them the necessary supplies. Remy, however, was untouched by the mysterious cold. Teachers and fellow students had put it down to her being a Veela- for some reason she'd never seen her mother have a cold- and even so, it wasn't to affect hybrids (or so she thought).
However, since she and the group had been hiding in the room of requirement, she had needed to go and get food. Yes, it provided everything for them, but she also needed to stretch her legs and get away from the rest of the pure-pure bloods who'd already figured that they wouldn't get ill (Well, they'd been let in on the secret upon pain of death if they squealed). They were so infuriating, and Scorpius was no help. There was never anything to say between them, although she could tell the attraction she felt for him was mutual. The male Slytherins, and the females alike were like animals there, though not quite in that way (yet) and it was getting irritating. Remy shook her hair out, as if that was to help her headache as she moved down the third floor corridor. Her mane of hair cascaded down her back, the dark waves hitting the woolen fabric and almost the denim of her jeans- she would have to get it cut soon, or at least the ends trimmed.
Remy's high heeled shoes made a light 'click' against the bare stonework of the castle floors, and she focused on the floor in front of her, occasionally looking up to see the bleak walls. The fires in caskets that usually lit the stairways and halls were mere smouldering heaps. Even the caretakers and teachers who would usually be pernickety about such things obviously weren't feeling in the mood to tend to their activities. Remy shook her head slightly at the thought, and a wry smile came to her lips as she bowed her head again. She had to at least look like she was sorry people were ill, and avoid all suspicion.
Ah, avoiding all suspicion had been of the utmost importance, but since the teachers saw Remy as a most mischevious angel, there had been little problem. Her peers may have been envious of her being well, but many were envious anyway. Speaking of envy, as Remy climbed the stairs to the third floor daintily, she beheld a figure above her. She climbed at the same speed as before, but when she reached the top her face was a mixture of confusion and worry, as she tried to stop herself laughing inside. "Jersey? You're ill?" she said, stepping onto the flat stone, towering over the blonde. Remy had never really taken to Jersey, she liked Scorpius far too much for her liking for one thing, and she was just an irritating blonde. However, recently she had vowed that she would be nicer, since Jersey didn't really seem to have much against her. "Jersey, how long have you been ill? Why are you wandering the corridors? You should be resting in bed." This was about as friendly and caring as Remy could get, without reverting to her normal best-friend-sarcasm mode. She wasn't that good at intimacy at the best of times, but she could be damned for trying.
[/blockquote][/center] [/b] jersey & open words n/a, pretty crappy! outfit here!music cobra starship! notes sorry this is crap >.< [/size][/ul][/font] |
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