Christopher Simpson was a boy of no exceptional consequence. He appeared in no famous stories or fought in any great battles, he failed to create a title for himself; be it feared or respected, and he preferred to be seen and not heard. Yet this unknown boy accomplished a feat worthy of any famous 'hero'. He struggled unseen through a curious web of lies and deceit, and passed through seemingly unscathed. The curious workings of his mind are kept firmly hidden, though his story is in desperate need of being told. It starts, as many stories do, in a school. A school unlike no other...
''MR SIMPSON! Lack of shoes is a simply unacceptable reason for your urgent need to return home. These excuses are becoming tradition, are they not? Well I shall not break my end of the bargain and, once again, as I did last year, and the years before that, I will ask you to sit down.. and shut up!''
Ignoring the sniggering sweeping across the Ravenclaw table, Filius Flitwick puffs out his chest in an attempt to look taller, his efforts failing miserably (not that anybody would have the heart to tell him) as he marches back down towards the large mahogany table that held the other Professors.
Feeling instantly regretful, Christopher (or more intimately known as Chris) hushes his classmates who continued to laugh at the Dwarf's expense. He certainly hadn't meant for his 'excuse' to be amusing. Sure enough, each year he had staged a routine similar to this one in an effort to be packed off on the train back home. Hogwarts had never felt homely to Chris like it did to the numerous other students occupying the school. It was simply another stepping stone before his life truly began.
Passing by his hatred for studies, Chris had other reasons for wanting to escape the school this year. War was on the horizon and Hogwarts had already been targeted. The ticking of the clock was drawing to a bloodthirsty close, and those that stood in charge moved like shadows in the night. Hogwarts had already lost. And Chris didn't want to hang around to witness its downfall.
Lucinda Black was a girl of exceptional consequence. Her name would be uttered within famous stories, her actions remembered in the great battles in which she fought valiantly. The simple whispering of her name evoked fear into the bravest of men, her title of 'Ice Princess' becoming of her cold disposition. But one must not always believe the feverish gossipers that wielded their manipulative tongues like weapons. This 'well known' girl held a personality that dripped with defiance. Why is it those that perform evil doings are the ones most likely to be remembered? Lucinda wanted an escape. Yet her freedom appeared in the most unlikely of places...
''WE HAVE ACHIEVED THE GREATNESS THAT WILL MAKE SALAZAR PROUD!''
Raising her goblet of pumpkin juice, Lucinda lets a loud cheer part her lips in answer to her fellow Slytherins, a cruel smirk playing along her blood-red lips as she toasts to 'the new beginning'; A chance for those who are pure to finally earn the respect they so rightfully deserve. Muggles and mudbloods finally put in their place; beneath those who are truly worthy to study magic. At least, that was how she was supposed to feel. Eyes were looking her way, an action in which Lucinda was no stranger to. She was a leader among the evil, a leader who hadn't chosen her path but had simply let it be thrust upon her.
Knocking back the cool juice she clasped within her pale digits, she found her eyes drawn towards the source of loud, raucous laughter erupting from the Ravenclaw table. Warmth and happiness still lingered upon the students there which almost caused a crack in her emotionless demeanour. How could they laugh when most among them would be dead before the year was out?
Mudbloods and blood traitors intrigued her immensely, not that any would suspect such a thing. You see, Lucinda had a reputation to maintain, not that she had gained it for herself. At least, not yet anyway. Her reputation came from her Mother. A witch almost as feared as the Dark Lord himself. She had kept Lucinda hidden away in the dark abode in which they called home. Lucinda's being at Hogwarts this year had only occurred through the disappearance of Harry Potter and the two little nitwits that followed him blindly. Lucinda was to be a spy; two more eyes from within the enemy's walls.
'Oh, tell me about your Mother,' A voice whispers excitedly by her side, causing Lucy's piercing green eyes to snap to attention, uncaring that she had forgotten the name of the source. 'Tell me about Bellatrix.'
