Professor LOCKHART's robes. Joan Elle never would have guessed the depth of Professor Snape's loathing for that doddering pansy of a teacher – not that she blamed him, to think of it now. THAT man clearly had no clue whatsoever – about anything really.
Professor Lockhart was the school joke and only two people in the whole school remained fooled, from what she had rather meticulously gathered: that Granger girl and Professor Lockhart himself. For being the most intelligent person in their year, Hermione Granger was sure pretty thick . . . especially in view of a teacher with a winning smile and curly, blonde hair.
'And speaking of blondes,' Joan Elle thought, her mind drifting towards the Slytherin prince. One of these days, she WOULD take that peacock down a few pegs. In the meantime, however, she had a few OTHERS to take care of. Her cheeks reddened in unsuppressed disdain.
THAT girl would get what was coming to her.
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So Joan Elle had thought at the time. Looking down at the platinum blonde curls in her lap, she marveled at the incredible change that had taken place mere months ago. It might as well have been an eternity as a day. With this new wonderment in her life, causing strange fulfilling pleasure, little else seemed to matter -- past grudges and horrendous memories all included.
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One hallway matched the gray monotone of the next as Joan Elle found herself aimlessly wandering the school's corridors. Only the faint red stain in her cheeks showed a display of her deepest thoughts. She may have seemed distracted and – for the most part – at ease(at least on the surface), but Joan Elle was methodically narrowing her field of action. She WOULD find them. She clutched a thin rod hidden within the folds of her robes. She WOULD get them. NO ONE would or COULD get away with this embarrassment for long.
Joan Elle didn't notice the reflection of slitted, kittenish eyes in the window as she passed. She never did.
In another part of Hogwarts' castle, Jennifer Rhianna Clayton and brotherly friend Draco Abraxus Malfoy striding purposefully down an almost abandoned corridor. Draco's impressive and often overbearing presence drove away an who would have poked fun at the awkward and slightly over-weight honey-blonde locked girl trudging along next to him. This girl at first appearance was the most shy and klutzy person anyone in their year had received the honor of acquainting themselves with. After this first impression, Joan Elle knew there couldn't be anything else worth knowing.
Draco, interestingly enough, was chatting amiably with thatGRYFFINDOR. He, the Slytherin prince, was a betrayal to their own house. He wasn't supposed to associate with OUTSIDERS, but he did.
Neither of these two noticed the short, malevolent creature they passed hidden in the shadows as they continued on. These two REALLY didn't have anywhere in particular to go it seemed. That much was obvious. Drawing breath and suppressing her "hackles" from rising, while preventing herself from launching herself out right away, Joan Elle had to force herself to watch and wait. She had to watch their movements for a few more days, perhaps wait until they let their guard down. That GIRL might not suspect retribution, but beneath that blonde head, Joan Elle knew there was a brain active. He would use it to protect his "friend" striding next to him. For now, she had no choice but to wait – and to watch.
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"Sphinx!"
Joan Elle was jerked out of her reverie by the now familiar voice of Draco. She felt a smile tug at the corners of her lips, turning upward as she looked guardedly down at Draco. Even now, she was wary of him. He was capable of so much and he didn't know it yet…and she still had trouble finding trust within herself concerning others.
Playfully he tugged at the ends of her brunette hair. "What is it?" she asked, bending down into the drowsy, grayish eyes. Those eyes were searching her eyes just as guardedly. His life had been hell too, in the past. And the complete misery was that it continued to be so.
"You looked – distant. And besides, you were starting to growl. Anything I did?"
She laughed and replied, "No, Almighty Blonde One. I was just thinking about days before…" She let her words die, a lump catching in her throat. Searching his eyes once more, she saw them flash with understanding and acceptance.
He laughed and shrugged his shoulders…a funny action in the horizontal position he was in, causing her legs to twitch slightly. "Well, okay then. If that was all it was. Do you hate me for what I did then?"
"No. Not…hate. Never hate. I despised you once, but that is all in the past," she said distantly, gazing into the setting sun.
"Good. I have plenty of people who hate me without having to worry about you doing so too…YOU," she poked his shoulder and ignored his protesting squawk, "are FAR too observant." Her voice softened. "Thank you."
Contained in those words…words she said oh so rarely, was all the gratitude she had ever felt. He had given her new life. She would never have thought it possible, but he had truly breathed color into the sketchy lines she had thought herself to be forever imprisoned. "Thank you…for everything."