TITLE: "Mistrust"
AUTHOR: emerald-hopes
RATING: R for dug content, language, violence, and sexual references.
SUMMARY: Arial Orthon is hiding a deadly secret, but no one knows that, not even Dumbledore when he allows her to come to Hogwarts in her sixth year. Everyone is immediately taken by Arial. . . Everyone but the person who knows her true being, that is.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here except my own characters, and I think you'll be able to figure out who they are. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
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Harry Potter rolled his eyes and suppressed a jaw-cracking yawn for what felt like the millionth time that day. The white curtains billowed about in the summer evening breeze, catching Harry around the leg. As he disentangled himself he watched the scene going on in the front yard across the street from number four, Privit Drive.
His aunt Petunia, a thin, bony woman with teeth like a horse, blew her nose in a lace handkerchief for the tenth time as she said goodbye to her dearest friend Mrs. Rose Princeton. Aunt Petunia had spent long hours with Mrs. Princeton gossiping about the neighbors and the other women who attended the country club's weekly afternoon tea. Harry knew his aunt would miss her friend dearly and would probably take it out on him more than anyone else, as usual.
Two moving men emerged from the Princeton's gigantic house just then, carrying a royal blue velvet couch between them and loading it onto the second of the two moving vans parked outside the house. Mr. Joe Princeton followed the movers, smoking a pipe and yelling instructions to three more movers coming out of the first truck. Harry's Uncle Vernon appeared behind Mr. Princeton and the two of them walked out onto the lawn. Uncle Vernon was a big man with a short neck, large mustache, and a rather purple face. He and Mr. Princeton went golfing at the country club every Saturday morning and Harry was sure that the loss of his uncle's golfing partner was sure to bring on more and more rows from Uncle Vernon this summer.
"Not like the Dursleys care," he muttered, kicking the wall in frustration. His sneaker left a short gray scuff mark on the perfectly painted blue wall, but Harry didn't care. He was sure to be leaving Privit drive soon enough, wasn't he? After all, they had all promised to come to his rescue as soon as possible, probably right after the O.W.L. results came in the mail, and that should be any day now. . .
A third pair of people made it's way down Privit drive along the sidewalk, past the perfectly manicured lawns and came to a halt at the Princeton's home. The two boys were Harry's age, though they did not look like Harry, who was thin and had wild black hair and emerald green eyes. Instead, these boys were heavyset and had a rough appearance. One of them, Harry's cousin Dudley, had brown hair and brown eyes, and the other boy, Dudley's friend Mark Princeton, had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes like his father.
"Oh, Dudley will miss Mark so much; he can't stop talking about how horrible it is that you have to move," Harry could imagine Aunt Petunia say. Little did any of the parents know, however, that the reason Dudley would miss Mark was because he supplied Dudley almost daily with cigarettes and once in a while found him a poor girl who was so desperate she would do anything - literally - to get money. If the Dursleys knew their beloved son had been with prostitutes only a little older than himself. . . Well, Harry wasn't quite sure what they'd do, but he was positive they wouldn't be too happy.
Three months ago, while Harry had been at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry fighting for the lives of those around him, the worst bit of news the Dursleys had received was that the Princetons would be moving on the eighth of July to Scotland due to Mr. Princeton's job promotion. To the Dursleys, who had no sense of proportion in the real world, Scotland was a million miles away from Little Whinging. Harry could only hope that a better family would be moving into the Princeton's house; they were due to arrive the next morning.
At last, the Dursleys and Princetons said their final teary good-byes. The Princeton family got into their car and drove off down the street, the moving vans close behind. Harry quickly turned away from the window, not wanting to be seen by the Dursleys. His aunt and uncle had sent him to bed at five o'clock to avoid having to explain him to the Princetons as the said farewell.
"Oh well," Harry said aloud, "tomorrow can't be any worse, right?"
AUTHOR: emerald-hopes
RATING: R for dug content, language, violence, and sexual references.
SUMMARY: Arial Orthon is hiding a deadly secret, but no one knows that, not even Dumbledore when he allows her to come to Hogwarts in her sixth year. Everyone is immediately taken by Arial. . . Everyone but the person who knows her true being, that is.
DISCLAIMER: I own nothing here except my own characters, and I think you'll be able to figure out who they are. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling.
*************************************************************
Harry Potter rolled his eyes and suppressed a jaw-cracking yawn for what felt like the millionth time that day. The white curtains billowed about in the summer evening breeze, catching Harry around the leg. As he disentangled himself he watched the scene going on in the front yard across the street from number four, Privit Drive.
His aunt Petunia, a thin, bony woman with teeth like a horse, blew her nose in a lace handkerchief for the tenth time as she said goodbye to her dearest friend Mrs. Rose Princeton. Aunt Petunia had spent long hours with Mrs. Princeton gossiping about the neighbors and the other women who attended the country club's weekly afternoon tea. Harry knew his aunt would miss her friend dearly and would probably take it out on him more than anyone else, as usual.
Two moving men emerged from the Princeton's gigantic house just then, carrying a royal blue velvet couch between them and loading it onto the second of the two moving vans parked outside the house. Mr. Joe Princeton followed the movers, smoking a pipe and yelling instructions to three more movers coming out of the first truck. Harry's Uncle Vernon appeared behind Mr. Princeton and the two of them walked out onto the lawn. Uncle Vernon was a big man with a short neck, large mustache, and a rather purple face. He and Mr. Princeton went golfing at the country club every Saturday morning and Harry was sure that the loss of his uncle's golfing partner was sure to bring on more and more rows from Uncle Vernon this summer.
"Not like the Dursleys care," he muttered, kicking the wall in frustration. His sneaker left a short gray scuff mark on the perfectly painted blue wall, but Harry didn't care. He was sure to be leaving Privit drive soon enough, wasn't he? After all, they had all promised to come to his rescue as soon as possible, probably right after the O.W.L. results came in the mail, and that should be any day now. . .
A third pair of people made it's way down Privit drive along the sidewalk, past the perfectly manicured lawns and came to a halt at the Princeton's home. The two boys were Harry's age, though they did not look like Harry, who was thin and had wild black hair and emerald green eyes. Instead, these boys were heavyset and had a rough appearance. One of them, Harry's cousin Dudley, had brown hair and brown eyes, and the other boy, Dudley's friend Mark Princeton, had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes like his father.
"Oh, Dudley will miss Mark so much; he can't stop talking about how horrible it is that you have to move," Harry could imagine Aunt Petunia say. Little did any of the parents know, however, that the reason Dudley would miss Mark was because he supplied Dudley almost daily with cigarettes and once in a while found him a poor girl who was so desperate she would do anything - literally - to get money. If the Dursleys knew their beloved son had been with prostitutes only a little older than himself. . . Well, Harry wasn't quite sure what they'd do, but he was positive they wouldn't be too happy.
Three months ago, while Harry had been at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry fighting for the lives of those around him, the worst bit of news the Dursleys had received was that the Princetons would be moving on the eighth of July to Scotland due to Mr. Princeton's job promotion. To the Dursleys, who had no sense of proportion in the real world, Scotland was a million miles away from Little Whinging. Harry could only hope that a better family would be moving into the Princeton's house; they were due to arrive the next morning.
At last, the Dursleys and Princetons said their final teary good-byes. The Princeton family got into their car and drove off down the street, the moving vans close behind. Harry quickly turned away from the window, not wanting to be seen by the Dursleys. His aunt and uncle had sent him to bed at five o'clock to avoid having to explain him to the Princetons as the said farewell.
"Oh well," Harry said aloud, "tomorrow can't be any worse, right?"