Author's Note: This is mainly a filler chapter (this and the next one). Read and review
Klara's POV
Nothing too eventful happened for the rest of the evening. Supper was as normal; Kierra and Malfoy were bickering like an old married couple, Korra was repeatedly getting distracted by some shiny object, and I was thinking about how I really needed to get myself a date for the Slytherin start-of-term party in a couple of days. Normally, getting a date isn't that difficult. I usually have guys throwing themselves at me. Usually, I can take my pick. But for some reason, no one asked me to the party yet. I'm obviously not taken, so I don't understand why. Even Amenda's got herself a date. It's really not fair.
After the rather boring (and somewhat lonely) feast, I decided I would go to the library. There were several books I had wanted to read over the summer; and now was my chance. No one would be in the library this early into the term. We hadn't been given any real homework yet. Students wouldn't have to start researching ancient wizards or magical creatures for at least another week. I figured I would have the place mainly to myself. And I was right.
I entered the library, expecting to see at most one or two other students. This is exactly what I saw. Some Ravenclaw boy was seated at one of the tables, reading a copy of Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality; and Potter's little friend Hermione Granger was at another table, half hidden behind a large stack of books on an assortment of interests, ranging from Herbology to Potions.
I made my way over to one of the many open tables and put my bag down on one of the empty chairs before I began my search for some good reading materials. I had a long list of books to read, but I could not decide on where I would begin. Finally, I chose some light reading on The History of Vampirism: From Medieval Transylvania to Modern Day by Alessandro Clemente. I've always had an interest in vampires; their legends intrigue me, especially those borne from the Romanian folklores of the Moroi and Strigoi; the living and the undead vampires. I find it rather comical how the majority of individuals don't know how true the Romanians were with their legends and folktales. There are two different kinds of vampires, maybe just not as extreme as the stories make them out to be. There are good and bad vampires, i.e. the Moroi (good) and the Strigoi (bad). Most people believe that all vampires are dark and evil because of what they do and what rumours and tabloids have made them out to be. But that is far from the true. I guess that's what intrigues me so much: the Moroi and their underground cultures and societies. They probably hold my interest so well because of the fact that they haven't changed their ways since medieval times and the days of Count Vlad Drakul.
Whenever I pick up a good book, I can get so caught up in it that the time really does fly. I looked up at the old Grandfather clock on the other side of the library expecting that maybe fifteen minutes had past. I was rather surprised to see that I was off by about an hour. I figured it would be getting late and that I should probably start heading back to my dormitory. I decided I would check the book out of the library as well as a book on Potions I had been eying.
Quickly, I packed up my bag and headed over to the Potions section to retrieve my book. I had just got the book in my hand when that filthy mudblood of a Gryffindor, Hermione, knocked in to me, sending my bag and several of its contents scattered across the aisle.
"What the bloody hell!" I screamed. "Watch where you're going, Granger." I spat, knocking the stack of books she was carrying out of her hands. I didn't know how she managed to hang on to them initially; but if my belongings were scattered on the floor, her should be as well. "I could've broken a nail!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Klara." That mudblood hastily apologised as she bent down to gather her belongings. She was scared of me. I could see it in her eyes. It made me smile, knowing that she knew I was to be feared.
"Don't let it happen again." I barked. "Understood?" I asked, placing my hands on my hips and eying her disapprovingly.
Just then, something in her eyes changed. "Or else what?" Granger asked, standing up and looking me square in the eyes.
"Let's just say, the last time someone crossed my path, they ended up in the hospital wing for a month." I smiled sweetly. "And I really don't think you want that happening."
"Is that supposed to be a threat?" Granger questioned, trying to make herself look tough. Honestly, it was kind of cute. This little lowlife of a mudblood thought she could outstand me.
"Keep talking; and you'll find out." I said, drawing my wand from my pocket. Seriously, I know everyone says Hufflepuff is the dumb house; but Gryffindors are twice as stupid. Hermione Granger became exhibit A as she drew her wand in retaliation like she actually had the nerve to duel me right here, right now.
"Fine." The mudblood smiled. "You always think you can just waltz into a place and automatically get what you want by using fear and intimidation." She began, wand somewhat in defensive position as if she knew her words would make me hex her or something. "But no one ever bothers standing up to you, or your sisters for that matter." She added, straightening up to try and look even tougher. In all honesty, she just made herself look even dumber.
"So are you going to be that person who stands up to me?" I asked, acting somewhat surprised.
"Yes."
I couldn't help myself from chuckling. "Well, you picked the wrong person to mess with." I smiled. "Pellicius!" I shouted, aiming my wand at her. By now, Granger was covered from head to toe with fur. I burst out in extreme laughter. The Fur-Growth Hex was one of my personal favourites. It just looked so awkward, having to walk around looking like a bloody animal, covered in completely in fur.
"What the-" The mudblood began, looking at the newly grown fur on her hands and arms.
"I told you not to mess with me." I said, as I summoned for my belongings to follow me as I excited the library, head held high. I swung my bag back over my shoulder as I continued down the corridor.
I hadn't gotten very far down the hallway when yet another person managed to walk right into me. "Seriously!" I shouted. "What is with people today?" I asked to no one in particular.
"Oh, I'm sorry." The kid who had run into me stuttered. I hadn't looked at the face yet; but it sounded the male version of bloody Granger. "It's my fault. I wasn't looking where I was going."
"You bet it's your-" I looked up to meet the kid's gaze. I was expecting some scared little first or second year Gryffindor; but instead, I was looking up (literally) at a fellow Slytherin. I had seen this boy around before, but I never really talked to him much. He always tended to keep to himself, spending all his free time studying music or playing his rhythm guitar in the corner of the Slytherin common room. He was actually pretty good, from what I recalled.
I don't really know what happened; but when my eyes met his almost black ones, all the anger I had been feeling towards him (and mostly Granger) seemed to leave my body.
"Uh, hi." He stuttered, running an awkward hand through his incredibly messy, but still stylish, spiked black hair. "I'm Neal." He said. "Neal Amory."
"Klara." I smiled, putting a hand out for him to shake. "It's a pleasure to meet you."
"No. The pleasure is all mine." He said, kissing my hand instead of shaking it.
I couldn't help myself from blushing.
"Again, I am terribly sorry for running into you. I really wasn't watching where I was going." He apologised. "I was in a hurry."
"Why the rush?" I asked, somewhat playfully.
"It-it's stupid." He said, shying away from my gaze.
"Tell me." I prodded. "I bet it's not."
"I write music." He replied. "Songs and stuff. I was outside in the courtyard, listening to the sounds of twilight when an idea for a song hit me."
"That's not stupid." I smiled. "It's cute. Not many guys actually have the nerve to be artistic anymore. It takes a real man to be an artist." I said, turning up the flirtiness in my voice by several notches.
I have always been turned on by artistic guys; painters, dancers, musicians. I don't know why. I guess it's because artists tend to be dark, mysterious, and somewhat cryptic. Neal was no exception. For starters, the boy was fine to look at. He had the dark hair and eyes (made even darker by the fact that he was wearing guyliner) and was able to pull off that underground punk look that many boys try, but normally epically fail at. Usually, I don't tend to gravitate towards the 'punk' crowd; but there was something different about Neal. He didn't seem to be all arrogant and cocky like the other 'punks' in the Slytherin house. He seemed like the kind of boy who didn't really care what others thought of him. He was happy with himself; and that's all that mattered- a real 'punk', if one chooses to label.
My comment seemed to make Neal smile. "Thanks." He said. "Um, you wouldn't happen to already have a date to the start-of-term party on Friday?" He asked hesitantly. "I kind of figure a beauty like yourself must already be taken."
Now I was the one smiling again. "Actually, you're in luck." I replied. "No one's asked me yet. Are you?"
"Only if you'll say yes." He blushed.
Normally, I don't like guys who aren't very assertive in getting what they want. Normally, I'm turned off by shyness and awkwardness. But for some reason, it worked on Neal. I don't really know why; but I liked him.
"Sure. I'll go with you." I said. "On one condition."
"What?" He asked nervously.
"That's exactly it." I replied. "You need to stop acting so nervous. If I'm going to go out with you, you can't act completely intimidated by my presence. You can't be so shy."
Neal frowned and looked away. "Sorry." He said. "I'll be sure to work on that."
"Alright." I smiled. "Now go finish your song. I have somewhere I need to go."
