Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
000000
1998
Jasper's Prospective
I couldn't stop watching the new librarian, as she handed Angela, a small stack of books for her English exam, "I have always found the war of the south fascinating."
She looked at me hard, with the same familiar eyes, that reminded me of My-Own, "I hate war."
"As do I ma'am, but I would do it over, and over if it meant keeping those I love safe," I reasoned with her.
She looked down at the index cards, ignoring me for a moment, as different emotions crossed her face, "I was in a war, back in Scotland. A war fought by children, who shouldn't have had to fight."
"I don't remember seeing anything about a war in England, or Scotland," I walked behind the counter, and placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to get her to relax. "We don't have to talk about war if you don't want to."
She gave a relieved smile, as she patted my hand, "I don't mind learning about the war, it's just what you said reminded me of someone, just can't think of who."
"So how about after school, I show you around this town and get you something to eat," I offered, which surprised me since I didn't normally ask others to hang out with me.
"Mike, he already showed me all around town, even took me to La Push beach," She was eyeing me as she said the last part, "You have a treaty with them, that if you stay off their land then they won't bother you." She must have noticed my questioning look, because she quickly took me into the office, and shut all the blinds. She walked over to her bag, and pulled out a hardcover book, then handed it to me, "I am a witch, and this will tell you everything about my world, and I will answer any questions after school. You can come over to my house if you have any questions."
I read fast through the book, and then came to a page that talked about a 'Hermione Jean Granger, smartest witch of there time, and a hero of the wizarding world'.' It had a moving image of the librarian, as she smiled, and waved towards me. I looked up to look for the young woman, but she was already by the front desk, talking to coach Anderson. Which for some reason made me feel hatred for the big-hearted, gentleman, just for talking to Miss Newton.
Winter 1858
General Perspective
"What are you doing here, Jazzy?" My-own asked as she entered the barn.
He smiled as he looked up at her, hiding the gift behind his back, so she wouldn't notice it, "I heard that Thomas Nobleman, was here this morning with a gift for you," He was trying to keep his tone even, even though he wanted to beat the shit out of the man, for his attention towards, the young woman of his affection.
"Yes he was here, with a peach pie for mom, and gun powder for father," She hadn't even looked away from the book in her lap, or made to come down the loft, "and he brought me a bottle of perfume, from his father's shop."
"My father brought your dad a pistol, and mama gave your mom a quilt," The young Whitlock looked down at his boots, as he played with the locket behind his back, "Will you come down, so I could give you my gift, My-own."
"What's my name, Jasper?" Her caramel eyes met his blue ones, waiting for an answer.
"It doesn't matter what name you were born with, you'll always be My-own," The young man answered confidently, smirking as a blush crossed her cheeks.
"You know Thomas, he's spoken to father about courting me if I would accept of course," She climbed down the ladder, with her book tucked under her arm, with a paper sticking out from it, "Are you going to his ball on New Years?"
"I hate the Nobleman's," Jasper answered, knowing she knew his feelings already, "So are you going to marry him, and have babies with the brains of trolls," He stalked towards her, not able to keep his temper, "So you'll be his housewife, and let him slap you around as his old man does to Mrs. Nobleman?"
"He is a clerk for the law office and has a very high IQ, so how dare you to assume any children from us would be Trolls," She slapped him across the face, with her book in hand, before leaving the barn, "I am sure dinner is about to be served, so we should be getting to the house, Mr. Whitlock."
He flinched at her use of his surname name, knowing that he had gotten on her bad side, for the moment at least. "Coming."
"Jasper, pull out her chair," Mr. Whitlock directed, as the still annoyed girl, began to seat herself. Thankfully she paused for the younger Whitlock, to help her sit in her seat, before taking his place beside his father.
His father turned to look at Mr. Granger, who was sitting at the head of the table since it was his house. "Patrick Nobleman, says that his oldest has shown an interest in courting, your daughter."
"I explained to Mr. Nobleman, while polishing my rifle, that the decision was hers to make," Oliver explained, smiling at his only child, before turning to look at the young Whitlock, "Have you given thought, to who you would like to court, Jasper?"
Senior Whitlock laughed, as he pounded his son back, "Are you kiddin' me, Oliver, his head is in those damn horses, and going to war."
The young woman's eyes locked with the younger Whitlock's, before looking to her own father, "I hate war."
"No one enjoys it my Dear, but sometimes it's unavoidable if we hope to see any difference for the future," Her father explained, patting her hand, "I would gladly fight if it meant for you to have a better future."
"Same here," Both Whitlock agreed.
"Doesn't make me hate it any less." The young Granger countered, "I like the life I have now, right here, right now, where all of you are here and not off, getting yourselves killed."
Mrs. Granger fanned herself as she let out a little laugh, "Let's not talk about the war at the dinner table," She turned to look at her daughter, and gave her hand a little squeeze.
The young woman avoided eye contact with the young Whitlock for the remainder of the evening.
000000
A/N: Thank you for taking your time to read this chapter, or re-read this chapter.