over by the radiant pools of moonlight, bathing the great hall in their incandescent aura. Her slave name was Garnet. Garnet Evergreen. But like the root triumphs over the stubborn earth, so longing as it is for the absolution of the sun, so too did Garnet break forth from her harnesses and reemerge as Blossom. At least that's what everyone called her now. "There goes Blossom" came a voice, lost amongst the rows of tables, rows of eyes that tracked Blossom as she glided over the marble floor, hovered like gravity showed her some leniency. She had been a student at Hogwarts for four years now, her fifth year came with all the promise of adventure and fulfillment its predecessors did. While she was here she was Blossom, and while she was Blossom, she glided. Later in the Gryfindoor common room she found rapport with one Hermoine Granger, her stalward and loyal protege of these many years.
"Blossom!" Hermoine exclaimed "Blossom, I did ever so miss you over these weeks"
Blossom smiled and retreated into a faint blush. "Oh, Miney, surely you found things to do without me!"
"I counted the days until we could sit around the teapot again, sharing notes and studying together. Growing as intellectuals together. You and me. Without that, summer was like a waking dream. N o sturcture or substance to speak of. Nothing to permeate the stifling and overwhelming gaiety, rudderless and meandering as it was. I indulge too many whims without you. I use words idly too much when you're not around. I become complacent. Now that we're together again, I will no longer be complacent"
Blossom giggled playfully. This was the Hermione she had known, the Hermione she had liberated from her dreary work-a-day life as Gryfindoor house's resident pond scum. Blossom had soft eyes and could see the diamond lurking beneath the rough.
"Miney, you flatter me too much. You are giddy with excitemetn. The promise of a new year, the vastness of an empty canvas. it is, how you say, an intoxicant. Like all intoxicants it makes us say daft things."
Blossom held open her long, pale, slender arms and took Hermione into her embrace. This was love. This was camaraderie. This was .
"I only hope" Blossom continued, when she found the strength to tear herself aware from her friend's embrace "That that proclivitous troublemaker Harry Potter can be persuaded to keep you out of his troublemaking this year."
Hermione swallowed nervously and bit the end of her finger. Fingers calloused and worn from tightly gripping the harsh, rough quill. Hermione had a poet's hands. it was the only part of her that was poet. She had attempted to conjure a limerick about Blossom for Blossom's birthday las year. She had made quite a spectacle of herself standing on the end of the common room's coffee table, unfurling a length of battered and coffee-worn parchemtn and reading aloud her comical elegy.
There once was a student named Blossom
Who had taken the habit of flossin'
So she took a small length
And with no minor strength
She tugged so hard that she lost one
Uprorious laughter followed this spectacle. Blossom was torn between tears of happiness and the feelings of tape tugging at her face and contorting her expression into a dumb, rapt smile. They seemed older then, and younger now. Blossom had time to reflect on that contradiction. Time she spent in bed that night, kept awake by fancies of the coming year. Blossom Evergreen; a fifth year student. Fancy that. It seemed like an eternity away when young, hopelesss, still scared Garnet first gazed upon the castle in all its splendour and might. So far away from the abusiveness of her muggle parents, wracked with insecurity and fear for the child they had claimed to love.
For a moment anyway, on that great lake, Garnet could escape the lingering sting of their fading blows or suppress the ugly truth that she would return to them in months, and simply immerse herself in the new world that had embraced her with loving arms. The moonlight that caressed the lake that night also shone through the window into her wide-awake eyes tonight, as if God was some cosmic spotlight operator waiting for her cue.
Only one trepidation doused the flames of her passions this evening (or was it mroing?). Its name was Harry James Potter. The chosen one. Chosen one, indeed! Blossom had to restrain herself from snorting too loudly and waking up the rest of the sleeping students. from day one a louse, a brute and a determined glory hog. They encountered each other infrequently, but each time was enough for blossom to sour on the louse a bit more each time. At the tri-wizard dance last year, he had eve n demonstrated the gallish nerve to ask her to the dance. Blossom responded by bringing an open palm to his quivering cheek. A bouncer, indeed! With a haughty snort, Blossom left the brute to wallow in his deserved humiliation. Humiliation that he deserved.
As daylight broke Blossom found that hse had spent the last of the enchanted night thinking about Harr Potter. She was siezed with self-flagellation for her lapse in concentration and, as she sprung to her feet, chastised herself for giving the showboat more thought than he deserved. She crept down the stairs, the first up as usual, into the common room. This was the quiet time of the emerging dawn where she could be herself. Each dainty step down the stairs brought her closer to her individualistic absolution. The warm silence, punctuated by the crackling of the fire, filled her soul with relief. Soon Harry potter was the last thin on her mind. That is until...
"Who's there?"
A face emerged from behind a highback reclining chair. Whose face but his, of course. Harry James Lilith Potter.
"Blossom? Is that you?"
Blossom froze.
(AN: Hey, guys! I'm new here. This is my first story. I'm kind of nervous. So tell me what you you think, okay? I'll try to update regularlry)