Head To Head
Chapter 5
Draco's PoV
Argh. I hate that stupid Mudblood; I thought sourly, as I shuffled some papers around on my desk.
With her stupid oh-so-perky Gryffindor friends, her perfect record, her perfect family…Perfect family? I was startled as that thought sneaked into my conscious. She was a Mudblood – and had Muggle parents, then what was so perfect?
But, seriously, they love her. I've seen the way they would wave wistfully to her, at Platform 9 ¾ - they would miss her all term. And the way they welcomed her back at the end of the year, all smiles, and a warm, inviting home waiting.
Not that I'm jealous or anything.
Hah.
Who am I kidding?, I thought, as I heaved myself out of my chair with a long-suffering sigh, my 'life' was nothing compared to Granger's.
Father – a death eater, willing to do anything to gain the Dark Lord's trust…even give up his own family. Even give up me.
Mother- a self centred Ice Queen, who thinks she is the only reason the world goes round. Never able to see beyond the brightest diamond.
And my house. A mere shell with three people forced to share its shelter. Yes, it was big. Of course, it was grand. But it was not a HOME.
I pondered this as I trudged up to my bedroom. Even the images of the Slytherin snake scattered around the room did nothing to improve my temper.
"Ugh…" I murmured, spotting silhouettes of the Gryffindor lion alongside the snake. How distasteful. I had to get away from all this – Gryffindor.
I was so, so sick of Gryffindors. It gave me a headache just to think about them. And I needed to get out of this wing. The smell of Gryffindor was sickly. It stained the air like blood stained a carpet – it lingered. And even if it disappeared, you could still sense it.
I wandered round the Head's Wing aimlessly, morose and thoughtful. There was seldom a time I was thoroughly happy. I always had…some 'mission' or the other, set by Father, of course.
In first year, I couldn't be a normal 11-year-old child, in their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. No, I had to spy on that geek Potter. Perfect Potter. Potter, of the almost instant popularity. Potter of GRYFFINDOR.
On top of that, there was Quirrell. I had had to report back on him to Father every week.
In second year, I had to watch the youngest Weasley, Ginny. To make sure she didn't suspect Father's little ploy with the Diary. It worked. Well, almost.
Third year had been a memorable one. Trying to get that Hippogriff killed. And it had been successful. Nearly.
That had been the time in my life when Father possessed complete and utter control of me. I was just a child – blindly following his 'Dad's' orders. Eager to please – to gain brownie points. Well, I had just HAD to get that new racing broom, hadn't I?
I disgust myself.
**************************
Sharlette Jeonly ambled along the castle Grounds, breath a little fast - she had just ran all the way from Gryffindor Tower. Her curly auburn whipped back in the wind, and her misty, haunted grey eyes stung from the cold.
Shivering, she wrapped her cloak closer around herself. She crept down to the lake, mind weary.
'I definitely need a Penisive now,' she thought, grinning half-heartedly through the thick muffler encircling her neck.
Suddenly, she stopped. Why shouldn't she get a Penisive, then? There were plenty around school, right? Maybe Snape had one…
Unlike most Gryffindors, Sharlette adored Potions. She loved the feeling of power it gave her. It was a raw, natural magic-no 'foolish wand waving'; as Snape had said to her on her first day here, back in Sixth Year. She would never admit it to anyone, but Professor Snape was by far the most realistic teacher at Hogwarts.
Well, as far as she could tell, anyway.
Suddenly, she heard a yelp behind her, and a scuffle of feet. Curiously, she twisted around.
Nothing. Just Hogwarts Castle.
Odd.
She carried on walking towards the lake, eyes fixed on the glistening water, reflecting the beautiful sunset like an enchanted mirror – emphasising the golden glow of the setting sky, and the pink sheen of the clouds. It was pretty, but isolated.
Oh, God, no. Not more of the 'I'm-so-lonely-and-feeling-sorry-for-myself' thoughts again, she sighed inwardly.
There was always that little black cloud hovering over her. All in all, Sharlette found it very pathetic, but could do nothing to change the way she felt.
She was fed up, really. And sort of…lonely. She was tired of being excluded from the 'Dream Team's' escapades. She knew that they were her friends. Of course. But…they would always be best friends, and they had been since they were 11. Sharlette was smart enough to recognize the bonds of fierce loyalty and love that tied the three together.
Something she would never share with anyone. Ever.
But she was strong – and brave. She faced everything that came her way…she was sensitive, but courageous. Thickskinned. It was a quality she had developed from years of being shunned from one foster home to another, never staying in one place for more than a month or two.
Foster parents often claimed that she "didn't work out." Or that she "wouldn't cooperate".
Not much she could do about that though, she sighed. It had been tough, watching her parents die before her very eyes. Killed by wizard…an evil wizard. A wizard who would let nothing get in the way of his rise to power.
Voldemort.
She had always known she was a wizard. The Jeonlys were a valuable pureblood family – and had been powerful at the time…her father had been the Vice Minister of Magic. Perhaps that was why Voldemort had wanted him on the Dark Side. But Philip Jeonly has been obstinate…so he died - like his ancestors – taking his wife with him…and leaving Sharlette alone – forever.
She was suddenly snapped alert from her reminiscing by what sounded like a scream…
A human scream
The noise became louder, and rang through the late evening air, its tone frantic. Soon the scream turned into turned into a series of loud yelps. Sharlette froze in her tracks. The shrieks rose to a blasting crescendo, and died away peacefully.
Shar shivered violently, unsettled. Shakily, she peered around her once more. She could see nothing but the lake, trees, the famous Whomping Willow, and Hogwarts Castle.
An emotion hardly ever found in the head of Sharlette Jeonly coursed through her veins.
Fright.
(A/N: Sorry if this chapter is a little short – I've kept you guys waiting too long!)
Chapter 5
Draco's PoV
Argh. I hate that stupid Mudblood; I thought sourly, as I shuffled some papers around on my desk.
With her stupid oh-so-perky Gryffindor friends, her perfect record, her perfect family…Perfect family? I was startled as that thought sneaked into my conscious. She was a Mudblood – and had Muggle parents, then what was so perfect?
But, seriously, they love her. I've seen the way they would wave wistfully to her, at Platform 9 ¾ - they would miss her all term. And the way they welcomed her back at the end of the year, all smiles, and a warm, inviting home waiting.
Not that I'm jealous or anything.
Hah.
Who am I kidding?, I thought, as I heaved myself out of my chair with a long-suffering sigh, my 'life' was nothing compared to Granger's.
Father – a death eater, willing to do anything to gain the Dark Lord's trust…even give up his own family. Even give up me.
Mother- a self centred Ice Queen, who thinks she is the only reason the world goes round. Never able to see beyond the brightest diamond.
And my house. A mere shell with three people forced to share its shelter. Yes, it was big. Of course, it was grand. But it was not a HOME.
I pondered this as I trudged up to my bedroom. Even the images of the Slytherin snake scattered around the room did nothing to improve my temper.
"Ugh…" I murmured, spotting silhouettes of the Gryffindor lion alongside the snake. How distasteful. I had to get away from all this – Gryffindor.
I was so, so sick of Gryffindors. It gave me a headache just to think about them. And I needed to get out of this wing. The smell of Gryffindor was sickly. It stained the air like blood stained a carpet – it lingered. And even if it disappeared, you could still sense it.
I wandered round the Head's Wing aimlessly, morose and thoughtful. There was seldom a time I was thoroughly happy. I always had…some 'mission' or the other, set by Father, of course.
In first year, I couldn't be a normal 11-year-old child, in their first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. No, I had to spy on that geek Potter. Perfect Potter. Potter, of the almost instant popularity. Potter of GRYFFINDOR.
On top of that, there was Quirrell. I had had to report back on him to Father every week.
In second year, I had to watch the youngest Weasley, Ginny. To make sure she didn't suspect Father's little ploy with the Diary. It worked. Well, almost.
Third year had been a memorable one. Trying to get that Hippogriff killed. And it had been successful. Nearly.
That had been the time in my life when Father possessed complete and utter control of me. I was just a child – blindly following his 'Dad's' orders. Eager to please – to gain brownie points. Well, I had just HAD to get that new racing broom, hadn't I?
I disgust myself.
**************************
Sharlette Jeonly ambled along the castle Grounds, breath a little fast - she had just ran all the way from Gryffindor Tower. Her curly auburn whipped back in the wind, and her misty, haunted grey eyes stung from the cold.
Shivering, she wrapped her cloak closer around herself. She crept down to the lake, mind weary.
'I definitely need a Penisive now,' she thought, grinning half-heartedly through the thick muffler encircling her neck.
Suddenly, she stopped. Why shouldn't she get a Penisive, then? There were plenty around school, right? Maybe Snape had one…
Unlike most Gryffindors, Sharlette adored Potions. She loved the feeling of power it gave her. It was a raw, natural magic-no 'foolish wand waving'; as Snape had said to her on her first day here, back in Sixth Year. She would never admit it to anyone, but Professor Snape was by far the most realistic teacher at Hogwarts.
Well, as far as she could tell, anyway.
Suddenly, she heard a yelp behind her, and a scuffle of feet. Curiously, she twisted around.
Nothing. Just Hogwarts Castle.
Odd.
She carried on walking towards the lake, eyes fixed on the glistening water, reflecting the beautiful sunset like an enchanted mirror – emphasising the golden glow of the setting sky, and the pink sheen of the clouds. It was pretty, but isolated.
Oh, God, no. Not more of the 'I'm-so-lonely-and-feeling-sorry-for-myself' thoughts again, she sighed inwardly.
There was always that little black cloud hovering over her. All in all, Sharlette found it very pathetic, but could do nothing to change the way she felt.
She was fed up, really. And sort of…lonely. She was tired of being excluded from the 'Dream Team's' escapades. She knew that they were her friends. Of course. But…they would always be best friends, and they had been since they were 11. Sharlette was smart enough to recognize the bonds of fierce loyalty and love that tied the three together.
Something she would never share with anyone. Ever.
But she was strong – and brave. She faced everything that came her way…she was sensitive, but courageous. Thickskinned. It was a quality she had developed from years of being shunned from one foster home to another, never staying in one place for more than a month or two.
Foster parents often claimed that she "didn't work out." Or that she "wouldn't cooperate".
Not much she could do about that though, she sighed. It had been tough, watching her parents die before her very eyes. Killed by wizard…an evil wizard. A wizard who would let nothing get in the way of his rise to power.
Voldemort.
She had always known she was a wizard. The Jeonlys were a valuable pureblood family – and had been powerful at the time…her father had been the Vice Minister of Magic. Perhaps that was why Voldemort had wanted him on the Dark Side. But Philip Jeonly has been obstinate…so he died - like his ancestors – taking his wife with him…and leaving Sharlette alone – forever.
She was suddenly snapped alert from her reminiscing by what sounded like a scream…
A human scream
The noise became louder, and rang through the late evening air, its tone frantic. Soon the scream turned into turned into a series of loud yelps. Sharlette froze in her tracks. The shrieks rose to a blasting crescendo, and died away peacefully.
Shar shivered violently, unsettled. Shakily, she peered around her once more. She could see nothing but the lake, trees, the famous Whomping Willow, and Hogwarts Castle.
An emotion hardly ever found in the head of Sharlette Jeonly coursed through her veins.
Fright.
(A/N: Sorry if this chapter is a little short – I've kept you guys waiting too long!)