The Troubles Source
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Disclaimer ~ I do not own anything from Harry Potter, which all belongs to J.K. Rowling but the character Til Less and any other characters I may add in the future belong to me.
~
She pulled out the golden journal and absentmindedly began flipping through the cream-colored paper. She had brought with her to Hogwarts in her first year. The journal she had tucked away in her trunk thinking that it was never to be used, but now she needed it. She needed someone to tell all her feelings to and know that they would never speak a word of it. That person was the journal. Her sister, Trish, had forced it upon her while out shopping for her schoolbooks. The now 27-year-old snot sister from the Underworld had married into the awful Pureblood family Vixen at the age of 21, much to Til's displeasure.
*Flashback*
"Tillian," her sister's voice rang through the store of Flourish and Blotts. "Tillian, come here. Look what I have found for you." Her sister's excitement was anything but comforting. If Trish had found something for Til, it only meant, it was something a Pureblood would use and it would be girly. Rolling her eyes, she slid off the pile of books she had been sitting on and made her way through the slightly crowded store to where her sister stood with her husband, Bayard Vixen. The man that was now her brother-in-law was a very tall man, 6'3'', with midnight black hair and very lean body but what stood out in his appearance was his rather red nose and the fact that his last name was one of Santa's reindeer - a Muggle fairytale of course but still suitable for Bayard.
"Yes, dear sister of mine?" She said mockingly, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned on the banister of the near by staircase.
"It's that kind of attitude that makes people think that you are something less than a Pureblood. Tillian, if you do not start acting," Trish paused a moment, looking at the clothing choice Til had made. Flared blue jeans, a black baggy hoodie, and tennis shoes - all Muggle. Her waist length strawberry-blonde hair thrown up into a messy bun with strands that were too short to reach to the bun becoming bangs that were brushed behind her ears. "and fail to start dressing in such a way a Pureblood should, you will never bring respect to the name of Less or find your future husband, such as I did."
Bayard smirked, "You should learn to listen to your sister. She knows these things." That cocky smirk of his, that was only one of many things that Til wanted to slap him for.
"I don't like either of you." The strawberry-blonde responded bluntly. "I don't care what you think, I don't care about the Pureblood ways, and I don't care about Rudolph over there. All I want to do is get the books I need on the list that I received in my acceptance letter to Hogwarts and get out."
"You should learn something such as respect." Bayard said firmly turning red from being referred to as Rudolph. Til loved that, it always got him worked up. Score: Rudolph none - Til one. Making a face at Light Bulb Nose, she looked back at her sister expectantly.
"Will you two stop bickering like little children? It is embarrassing." Trish pleaded harshly, her green eyes darting around the store to make sure no one had seen the event of Pureblood disgrace. Regaining her practiced poise, her sister brushed a lock of her wavy pure blonde hair behind her ear with her delicate hand. "Here." She said as she pushed a small book into Til's folded arms.
"What is it?" She asked, straightening up as she unfolded her arms and took hold of the gold colored book beginning to flip through the pages. "It's empty." She stated before snapping it shut, only then realizing what it was. "Wait, this is a diary. No way am I going to have a diary." She said placing it on a large stack of books to her right and proceeded to cross her arms and lean on the banister again.
"It's an enchanted diary, dear little sister. Whatever you write in its pages disappears, never to be seen again until it is called upon. For instance, if I wrote, 'Pureblood ways is the only life for me.', it would disappear but when I would ask a question like, 'What is the only life for me?' it would bring up what I wrote." Trish smiled sweetly before adding, "And you're getting it whether you like it or not."
*Reality*
That was six years ago and Til still hated that day to no end but now she was actually grateful that her sister had made her purchase this journal. It was going to come in use. Dabbing her quill tip into the inkbottle, she began writing.
'Here is where my secrets will be put to rest, for I will take them to the grave with me, well most of the anyways. Now where to begin is the question that I ask.'
Til paused a moment, gathering her thoughts.
'I have made frequent visits to McGonagall lately, bugging her about the same thing. My height. Being 5'9'' at the age of 16 is not an easy thing, I feel too tall, but of course, the professor felt like being stubborn and shortened me to the height equivalent to a tall eight-year-old, 4'7''. It wore of after a while but her plot to ward off my idea about permanent height reduction failed for I want to be 5'5'', and being as short as I was proves no point, only showing me what a midget views at their height. I feel that I am getting close to breaking McGonagall down; I am so close to having her agree to perform the height reduction. My family said that most likely by the time I reach 18 or 19, I'd be 6'2'' and honestly, I do not want that. I hate being tall and I think McGonagall thinks that I am annoying, but I wouldn't blame her especially after I made that comment about her being in love with Snape and vice versa while Snape was present in the room. That caused her to actually throw me out of her office. I still have the bruise on my back from hitting the wall as I slid across the floor from her office.but throwing the mushy muffin in Pansy's hair was worth the two weeks (and possibly more) of detention. I know the whole throw the muffin in someone's hair is somewhat childish but I had left my wand on my bed, not a smart thing to do when I have the whole Slytherin house after me but oh well. Life is good.'
Til lifted up her quill and the writing disappeared. Curiosity struck her, setting down her quill and lifting up the book, she grinned. "McGonagall and my height problem." The whole entry reappeared and her grin broadened, quickly picking her quill back up, she scrawled the date across the top, capped the inkbottle, closed the journal, and stuffed it under her pillow. She would write more tomorrow, maybe about her infatuation, but it was time to eat for the sound of her stomach growling was becoming more annoying by the minute so now it was time to make her appearance in the Great Hall. She just hoped that Draco did not approach her today.
~
Disclaimer ~ I do not own anything from Harry Potter, which all belongs to J.K. Rowling but the character Til Less and any other characters I may add in the future belong to me.
~
She pulled out the golden journal and absentmindedly began flipping through the cream-colored paper. She had brought with her to Hogwarts in her first year. The journal she had tucked away in her trunk thinking that it was never to be used, but now she needed it. She needed someone to tell all her feelings to and know that they would never speak a word of it. That person was the journal. Her sister, Trish, had forced it upon her while out shopping for her schoolbooks. The now 27-year-old snot sister from the Underworld had married into the awful Pureblood family Vixen at the age of 21, much to Til's displeasure.
*Flashback*
"Tillian," her sister's voice rang through the store of Flourish and Blotts. "Tillian, come here. Look what I have found for you." Her sister's excitement was anything but comforting. If Trish had found something for Til, it only meant, it was something a Pureblood would use and it would be girly. Rolling her eyes, she slid off the pile of books she had been sitting on and made her way through the slightly crowded store to where her sister stood with her husband, Bayard Vixen. The man that was now her brother-in-law was a very tall man, 6'3'', with midnight black hair and very lean body but what stood out in his appearance was his rather red nose and the fact that his last name was one of Santa's reindeer - a Muggle fairytale of course but still suitable for Bayard.
"Yes, dear sister of mine?" She said mockingly, crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned on the banister of the near by staircase.
"It's that kind of attitude that makes people think that you are something less than a Pureblood. Tillian, if you do not start acting," Trish paused a moment, looking at the clothing choice Til had made. Flared blue jeans, a black baggy hoodie, and tennis shoes - all Muggle. Her waist length strawberry-blonde hair thrown up into a messy bun with strands that were too short to reach to the bun becoming bangs that were brushed behind her ears. "and fail to start dressing in such a way a Pureblood should, you will never bring respect to the name of Less or find your future husband, such as I did."
Bayard smirked, "You should learn to listen to your sister. She knows these things." That cocky smirk of his, that was only one of many things that Til wanted to slap him for.
"I don't like either of you." The strawberry-blonde responded bluntly. "I don't care what you think, I don't care about the Pureblood ways, and I don't care about Rudolph over there. All I want to do is get the books I need on the list that I received in my acceptance letter to Hogwarts and get out."
"You should learn something such as respect." Bayard said firmly turning red from being referred to as Rudolph. Til loved that, it always got him worked up. Score: Rudolph none - Til one. Making a face at Light Bulb Nose, she looked back at her sister expectantly.
"Will you two stop bickering like little children? It is embarrassing." Trish pleaded harshly, her green eyes darting around the store to make sure no one had seen the event of Pureblood disgrace. Regaining her practiced poise, her sister brushed a lock of her wavy pure blonde hair behind her ear with her delicate hand. "Here." She said as she pushed a small book into Til's folded arms.
"What is it?" She asked, straightening up as she unfolded her arms and took hold of the gold colored book beginning to flip through the pages. "It's empty." She stated before snapping it shut, only then realizing what it was. "Wait, this is a diary. No way am I going to have a diary." She said placing it on a large stack of books to her right and proceeded to cross her arms and lean on the banister again.
"It's an enchanted diary, dear little sister. Whatever you write in its pages disappears, never to be seen again until it is called upon. For instance, if I wrote, 'Pureblood ways is the only life for me.', it would disappear but when I would ask a question like, 'What is the only life for me?' it would bring up what I wrote." Trish smiled sweetly before adding, "And you're getting it whether you like it or not."
*Reality*
That was six years ago and Til still hated that day to no end but now she was actually grateful that her sister had made her purchase this journal. It was going to come in use. Dabbing her quill tip into the inkbottle, she began writing.
'Here is where my secrets will be put to rest, for I will take them to the grave with me, well most of the anyways. Now where to begin is the question that I ask.'
Til paused a moment, gathering her thoughts.
'I have made frequent visits to McGonagall lately, bugging her about the same thing. My height. Being 5'9'' at the age of 16 is not an easy thing, I feel too tall, but of course, the professor felt like being stubborn and shortened me to the height equivalent to a tall eight-year-old, 4'7''. It wore of after a while but her plot to ward off my idea about permanent height reduction failed for I want to be 5'5'', and being as short as I was proves no point, only showing me what a midget views at their height. I feel that I am getting close to breaking McGonagall down; I am so close to having her agree to perform the height reduction. My family said that most likely by the time I reach 18 or 19, I'd be 6'2'' and honestly, I do not want that. I hate being tall and I think McGonagall thinks that I am annoying, but I wouldn't blame her especially after I made that comment about her being in love with Snape and vice versa while Snape was present in the room. That caused her to actually throw me out of her office. I still have the bruise on my back from hitting the wall as I slid across the floor from her office.but throwing the mushy muffin in Pansy's hair was worth the two weeks (and possibly more) of detention. I know the whole throw the muffin in someone's hair is somewhat childish but I had left my wand on my bed, not a smart thing to do when I have the whole Slytherin house after me but oh well. Life is good.'
Til lifted up her quill and the writing disappeared. Curiosity struck her, setting down her quill and lifting up the book, she grinned. "McGonagall and my height problem." The whole entry reappeared and her grin broadened, quickly picking her quill back up, she scrawled the date across the top, capped the inkbottle, closed the journal, and stuffed it under her pillow. She would write more tomorrow, maybe about her infatuation, but it was time to eat for the sound of her stomach growling was becoming more annoying by the minute so now it was time to make her appearance in the Great Hall. She just hoped that Draco did not approach her today.