Gabrielle rushed in to her well furnished room. Something was gripped tightly to her chest. She pulled it so she could get a better look at the image. A woman stared back at her before laughing. Her crazy hair was piled on top in a messy half pony-tail; it curled off in wild angles. The paper had a slight yellow look to it, not the white like a muggle paper had. The picture was a soft yellow with black. It wasn▓t one of the best pictures that she had but it didn▓t matter. Gabrielle went to grab something under the bed, as she did so she remembered the first time she saw the woman.
She was following the group down the hall. Harry was in the lead his smile was deep and warm and it made he feel warm on the inside. The war was done and they were there to remember the ones who were lost and to celebrate the ones who remain. Her stomach did flips at circles as she watched the couples. Most of them worse for wear but they other stayed with them. She couldn▓t take it anymore and asked to be excused. She made her way up the stairs; the painting on the landing was covered by a heavy curtain. She wondered in to a random room. It was filled with books. She walked up to one of the book cases and pulled one of the books out. Written in gold lettering was ⌠Black Family Album■. She began to page through it. One of the pictures caught her eye it looked to be a young women. Her hair was in soft curls that spilled down from her head. Her eyes were piercing. She stood prim and proper, but for a split second you could see her playful nature as her thin mouth formed a smile. Under the picture in shape nice writing was ⌠Bellatrix-age 16■. Gabrielle▓s stomach tightened and her heart beat a little faster. This woman was simple beautiful. She continued on finding more and more pictures of her as she grew older. She started pulling them out and placed them in the bag she was carrying with her. She wondered what happened to her doing the war.
Gabrielle brushed the tears away. She had found someone that she loved and not only was she married but she was long dead. Her sister▓s mother-in-law had done the job. She added the pictures to one of the boxes under her bed. She grabbed the 1st picture and was key ported to the woman▓s grave. She begun the task of cleaning the head stone and cleaning off the nasty things that people wrote on it. She threw away the dead flowers. She placed fresh flowers down and added water. She brushed the dirt off of her face and whipped the sweat from her brow.
She looked around and in a soft whisper ⌠I love you■ Only the wind answered back with the smell of the flowers and a breathy ⌠Thank you my little lamb.■
She was following the group down the hall. Harry was in the lead his smile was deep and warm and it made he feel warm on the inside. The war was done and they were there to remember the ones who were lost and to celebrate the ones who remain. Her stomach did flips at circles as she watched the couples. Most of them worse for wear but they other stayed with them. She couldn▓t take it anymore and asked to be excused. She made her way up the stairs; the painting on the landing was covered by a heavy curtain. She wondered in to a random room. It was filled with books. She walked up to one of the book cases and pulled one of the books out. Written in gold lettering was ⌠Black Family Album■. She began to page through it. One of the pictures caught her eye it looked to be a young women. Her hair was in soft curls that spilled down from her head. Her eyes were piercing. She stood prim and proper, but for a split second you could see her playful nature as her thin mouth formed a smile. Under the picture in shape nice writing was ⌠Bellatrix-age 16■. Gabrielle▓s stomach tightened and her heart beat a little faster. This woman was simple beautiful. She continued on finding more and more pictures of her as she grew older. She started pulling them out and placed them in the bag she was carrying with her. She wondered what happened to her doing the war.
Gabrielle brushed the tears away. She had found someone that she loved and not only was she married but she was long dead. Her sister▓s mother-in-law had done the job. She added the pictures to one of the boxes under her bed. She grabbed the 1st picture and was key ported to the woman▓s grave. She begun the task of cleaning the head stone and cleaning off the nasty things that people wrote on it. She threw away the dead flowers. She placed fresh flowers down and added water. She brushed the dirt off of her face and whipped the sweat from her brow.
She looked around and in a soft whisper ⌠I love you■ Only the wind answered back with the smell of the flowers and a breathy ⌠Thank you my little lamb.■