A/N: Yes, it's short, I know. But it's a prologue so it is supposed to be so :P
~Happy Holidays! *jingle jingle*
Title- Colosseums
Author- Eryn
Summary- One girl who bears a striking resemblance to Hermione's long dead twin...A new Hogwarts enrollment…Secret meetings with Dumbledore...Powerful magic... Secret societies...Everything leads to her: Isabelle.
Chapter- Zero
This story was requested by ImmortalDarkPassion whom of which gave the original idea ("Hermione's kidnapped twin sister returns"). Everything else—the plotline, the new characters, etc—was my idea. ImmortalDarkPassion, I hope you like what I've done with your initial idea :D
The night air was chilling in the fact that snow permeated the air with its presence, blowing sideways in a playful manner. The white decadence had made quick work of dominating the streets in the past hour. My hands were aching to seek the warmth of shoving themselves in the pockets of my gray trench coat but I refrained.
I had such a sudden urge to paint the scene, to bring the beauty of tranquil reverence onto the blank, smooth sheet of a canvas. As soon as the longing filled me I squelched it, instead opting to replace it with apathy. Painting was an activity that I had done with my family when I was younger. It was useless to wish for something that was ten years long out of my reach.
The sounds of footsteps brought me out of my reverie.
"You're still at it?"
Tess and Michael were leaning against the same wall that I was, their matching brown eyes on me. Their gaze was like dried grass caught beneath ice—the look that held guarded heartbreak, as all our brethren did. As usual, the cousins had spoken in unison.
They both could have passed for twins—considering the fact that they both shared the same facial features, and many other aspects. Tess' black hair shined, seemingly darker than oil, as it waved down, disappearing beneath the sleek dark brown of her jacket. Her eyes were kind despite all the things she had witnessed. Too kind for this world, in my opinion. She would have been considered pretty by society's standards if it wasn't for the deep scar that ran jaggedly from her right eyebrow to the opposite side of her chin. However, to people like us, it was a badge of honor that set her apart. It made her beautiful, as well as strong.
Michael was easily distinguished by the haunted, guarded look in his eyes that matched mine tit for tat. We had both seen what really happened in this war, what was truly sacrificed when it came to keeping unknowing citizens safe and out of the situations that we thrust ourselves into daily. His dark hair was to his ears, swept over his face to cover his damaged right eye. The left flickered between shades of gray and the brown of Tess', unable to decide between the two. Air misted in front of him as he breathed, the inhale and exhale a steady rhythm.
Judging by the fresh blood that speckled their coats they had completed their job successfully, as usual.
"This is my mission," I responded, regarding them coolly with my eyes.
Orange embers blazed from the tip of my fag, a lone spiral of smoke curling up to the night sky. The bright color blossoming from it seemed Technicolored in amongst the colorless scene of winter.
The ringing of the bronze bell on the shop across the street caught my attention, the fleeting words of "Come again soon" spoken by the owner teasing my ears.
The young woman that walked out of the store had a package clutched tightly in her hands, a smile gracing her lips. Her long light brown hair was similar to mine in the way that it flowed down her back, except for the fact that mine was so dark that it was almost black. I ran my eyes over the slope of her nose, the feminine pink of her lips, and the slight dimples that were forming as she smiled. Reaching up she brushed a stay hair behind her ear, her happy expression never wavering.
This was why I was here. My mission was to study the girl otherwise known as Hermione Granger, a sixth year at Hogwarts, to make sure that she wasn't showing any signs of the unstable magic that I harbored. It was an odd feeling watching her, almost like looking through a portal. I could easily imagine myself walking alongside her, arm in arm. Would I have had that same worry free look?
"This isn't about your mission. This is you just torturing yourself with what you could have had."
I didn't even acknowledge Michael's words, opting to take another drag of white stick in my hand. Watching the smoke curl effortlessly through the air as I exhaled, my eyes narrowed as I caught the forms of two boys approaching her.
Harry Potter. His emerald eyes twinkled with amusement as he crept up behind her, tightly packed snow clutched in his hands. A
Ronald Weasley. His rushed movement slowed and he put an arm around Hermione, grinning unabashedly as he ruffled her hair, much to her displeasure.
Glaring playfully, she turned to reprimand him and missed the dark haired boy coming up to her side. As she opened her mouth, however, she noticed him and turned. "Ha-"
Ronald's hands held her in place as Harry dumped the handfuls of snow down her back, eliciting a high-pitched squeal from her and biding the package to fall from her hands.
"You gits!" She cried as she grabbed her wand out of her boots. "I'm going to bloody kill you!"
Ron grinned devilishly, grabbing his friend by the collar of his shirt and dragging him to start him running.
"Ron! Harry!" Her enraged voice filled her in a raucous fervor that was intertwined with amusement. Murmuring a spell under her breath water suddenly burst forth from her wand, barely missing the two fleeing men.
I breathed in another bout of smoke before crushing the white of the stick between my fingers, letting it drop to the snow below.
Hermione's scarf flying behind her, she took off in a rush, snow flicking up from her boots and heated vengeance in her eyes.
As she left my line of sight, despite the fact that Michael's disapproving gaze was heated on my neck, I left my post to approach the fallen object. My cigarette laid forgotten on the snowy ground, the embers feebly trying to survive the chill of the crystalline decadence.
The silk caressed my hands, the gentle smell of perfume wafting from it and teasing my nose. I brought it up to my eyes, committing the red and gold designs to memory. Lifting it higher, I draped it around my neck, trying to
Ignoring the fact that the crystalline flakes it rested upon made my hands I retrieved the package from its resting place, turning it over in my hands.
For Isabelle Granger~
Rest in peace
She was going to my grave? Was. Because of those boys it was definite that she wasn't any longer—it having faded to the back of her mind. It was morbidly amusing how ironic this was. Here I was, forgotten, in more ways than one.
Turning around, I let my eyes meet the cousins'. "Let's go," I said, trying not to see the pitying gaze Michael gave me when he caught the label as I walked towards them. "I must report back." His arm grazed mine, his hand squeezing my briefly in a quick offer of comfort, instant releasing mine so that his sister wouldn't see.
The two nodded before disappearing in a blink of an eye, leaving nothing but the red speckled snow in their place.
Sighing, I pocketed the small package and closed my eyes before giving in to the magic inside me, letting my body become mist.
Welcome to Colosseums: my first Isabella/Draco story. For those who read Blackout … :D Thanks for checking this out and Happy Holidays! Also, the third part of my Blackout people's present is going to be posted later tonight/early tomorrow morning and it will be called White Noise—so wait for it :P
I hope you guys will enjoy this! And pssht: Reviews help me update faster, and besides, I love hearing opinions—good and bad :D
~Eryn