I think you can guess what I do and don't own.
No warnings.well.mention of cutting and the slash is starting to be hinted
at. Strangeness at hand!
Le Sang du le Belle Serpentine
Sitting in an abandoned compartment, Mirabelle watched streams of water cascading down the nearly invisible glass of her window as it poured rain outside. She sighed, absently tracing the many self-inflicted scars on her wrists. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't stop thinking about him, although she knew she was nothing to him.
"I love you." she whispered into the air. Tears threatened to fall from her violet eyes as the girl recalled all that had happened between them last year. Belle had called him into the Astronomy tower to admit her love. He told her that she shouldn't waste her time. He could never love. Somehow, they ended up with a deep, passionate kiss that evening. Many evenings were spent in empty classrooms, making love until sunrise. But only a week before school ended, he had ended their relationship, telling her that although he didn't love her, he didn't want to see her hurt, so was breaking up with her. Belle thought herself foolish. Who was she to think that she could make him love her? How could she have hoped that they could be something more? Why did she think she had the right to be angry with him for this? He had warned her from the start. He had told her couldn't love her. They had kept it a secret for so long, she knew they couldn't continue. But her heart refused these thoughts. It was ripped into a million pieces, ground into dust and blown away into the cold, sharp wind. That summer, Belle's fragile spun sugar mask broke. And it bled. She bled. Day after day, when her tears could no longer express her heartache, her blood cried for her. Once, Melodie had come into the bathroom and saw Mirabelle bleeding into the sink. Belle told her she had accidentally cut herself, and not to worry. Now, at school, Mirabelle had to put the mask back on, but this time it was glass. It was still ever so fragile, but all the more sturdy than sugar that could melt, shatter or stick.
Mirabelle's thoughts were interrupted when Harry, Ron, and Hermione came into the compartment, grinning and soaked. They sat down by her and continued their chatter for a moment before noticing the tears now sliding down their friend's face. Ron was laughing loudly moments after Hermione and Harry had fallen silent. Hermione glared at him. Harry went over and crouched down by the sad girl.
"Oi, Mira. What's the matter?" He asked concernedly. Unlike the others, he preferred this nickname rather than Belle. She gave him a watery smile and wiped her eyes.
"Nothing. I-I'm fine." Belle lied. There was no way she'd let them know. However, she didn't realize that her shirtsleeve had stayed up from when she had been feeling the scars.
"What's this?" He asked, indicating the laced flesh. Mirabelle's pupils contracted as she looked up suddenly, pulling down her shirtsleeve.
"N-It's nothing." She repeated. The others looked skeptical.
"It doesn't look like nothing, Belle." Said Hermione. "If you're hurt, you can tell us. We're your friends. You can trust us." Hermione looked sincere, but Belle wasn't sure how the boys would handle it.
"Hermione, I don't want to.It's personal." Mirabelle said. Hermione took her by the arm and led her away from the boys, then cast a Silence Bubble around them.
"All right, now will you tell me?" Hermione asked kindly. The other girl glared sullenly for several minutes before reluctantly nodding. Then she began.
"It all began in the third year. You see, there was this boy. He's not in our house, but he's in our year. Anyway, I started to like him. At first, I denied it, but then I started having these.dreams about him. And I noticed weird things, like how he always bites his lip when there's a tough problem. I talked to him a few times, but he was really cold to me. I still liked him, though, even in fourth year. Then in fifth year, I couldn't take it. I was head over heels in love with him. So I wrote him a note. I told him to meet me in the Astronomy Tower after supper. I was nervous at first but then I told him how I felt. I told him I loved him, and I had since third year. He told me he couldn't love." She paused, and Hermione jumped at the chance to speak.
"He said he couldn't love you? Who is this guy?!" She exclaimed, indignant on Mirabelle's behalf. She held up a hand for silence.
"I'm getting to that. He didn't say he couldn't love me. He said he couldn't love, period. He warned me, he said that I shouldn't get involved with him, for my own sake. I should've listened, but I'm glad I didn't. Anyway, that evening I kissed him, and we made out. The next week we were making love in empty classrooms. We even did it once in a regular classroom. I liked the thrill of the chance Professor McGonagall might walk in any second. That's beside the point. A week before school ended, he broke up with me. I knew he didn't love me. I knew I was just his little toy, but he said that he cared. He doesn't love me, but he cares! So when I went home, I couldn't take it any more. I didn't care whether or not he loved me. I just wanted to be near him. I cried and cried, and when I couldn't cry anymore, I bled." Belle's voice cracked towards the end. She rolled up her sleeves and showed both arms for evidence. "I still love him." She said quietly. Hermione looked torn between sympathy and horror.
"You were cutting yourself? But.But. That jackass! Who is he?!" she demanded, but Mirabelle flared up.
"See?! See?! This is why I didn't want you to know! I knew you be upset like this! And now you're going to hate Draco even more, when it's not even his fault! He warned me! I didn't listen! This is my fault! Don't you dare blame the boy for what his father's done to him!!!" She screamed at the shocked Hermione. She fell to her knees, sobbing. "I'm sorry." She whispered. The boys looked. Although they couldn't hear a thing, they knew it was something big. Mirabelle hardly raised her voice or had a temper. Hermione kneeled beside her and cradled her shaking form, stroking her hair comfortingly, the occasional tear slipping down her own face. Soon Mirabelle dried her eyes, and she stood, tall and straight despite her still slightly blotchy face. Ron looked worried still, but Harry gave Mira a big, warm hug. He kissed the top of her head, then whispered,
"Care to tell me?" Her silky, maple brown hair muffled his voice. She nodded.
"Ask Hermione." And so he did. When Hermione told him the whole story, the distress on his face was apparent. He whispered something back, and Hermione glanced at Belle before looking back toward him understandingly.
Before they knew it, the school train lurched to a stop, and they filed off, one by one. Huddled together to ward off the freezing temperatures (though it had stopped raining) the four crammed into a horseless carriage, and off they went to Hogwarts. Ron was looking desperately from Harry to Hermione to Mirabelle, then back to Harry.
"Somebody? Say something? Please? C'mon guys, can't you tell me?" He looked frustrated and confused. All of a sudden, Mirabelle burst out laughing. Ron was further perplexed, but he soon broke into a dazed grin. Harry and Hermione just stared at them like they had just grown extra heads or something. Mirabelle abruptly stopped and slowly, deliberately turned her head towards the two silent ones.
"Laugh," she said in a commanding voice, her tone had a cold edge, "or I'll sick my fluffy pink bunny rabbit on you." She then shrieked and wriggled around making strange noises before finally leaning on Hermione, laughing until she thought she would puke. Harry cocked an eyebrow then began to chuckle, which soon turned into a full-fledged laugh. Hermione just looked scared.
"Whoa!" they all exclaimed together in chipmunk-like voices as the carriage jerked to a halt.
As soon as the Sorting ended, Mirabelle ran up to each of the new Gryffindors, slapped them lightly, and then screamed at the top of her lungs,
"Le attaque du rose pelucheux lapin! L'horreur! L'horreur!!!" she frightened most of them, but one or two stared blankly, and one laughed. She liked the one who laughed. He seemed kind. Belle decided to keep him, and thusly tied him to a red leash.
"There. Now you're my pet." She said with a wink.
Across the hall sat a smirking, pale boy. Over the summer, Draco had dyed his hair black, with shocking red tips, and charmed it to grow out the same way. It looked incredibly good on him, bringing out the creamy color of his smooth skin. When he thought no one was looking, he dropped his false expression and left the Great Hall, looking back with dulled, melancholy eyes at two of the Gryffindor Four, as they had been dubbed. He knew it wasn't right. Last year he had convinced himself that he was dead inside. That no matter what, he couldn't feel. But this girl, this Mirabelle, showed him. He realized he cared for her, but she was not the one he longed for. Draco did love Mirabelle, but not as she loved him. He wanted Mirabelle to be happy.
As the Slytherin boy made his way into the common room, he wondered why he did not love Mirabelle so romantically. As it was said before, he did love her. He loved her like.No, not a sister. More of a friend-type-person-thing- or-whatever. With a heavy sigh, Draco sank into the couch furthest from the fire. If only he hadn't tried to push her away. Damn Gryffindors! The more you warn them, the less they take heed. Of course, now that he had realized he could love, the one he truly wanted was unattainable. Harry Potter could never be his.
Whee! I'm having such great fun with this. Please tell me what you think; I can hardly stand the silence. What will happen? When do Siri and Remmy come in? How will Mirabelle treat Draco? All these answered and much more.throughout many chapters ahead.
Le Sang du le Belle Serpentine
Sitting in an abandoned compartment, Mirabelle watched streams of water cascading down the nearly invisible glass of her window as it poured rain outside. She sighed, absently tracing the many self-inflicted scars on her wrists. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't stop thinking about him, although she knew she was nothing to him.
"I love you." she whispered into the air. Tears threatened to fall from her violet eyes as the girl recalled all that had happened between them last year. Belle had called him into the Astronomy tower to admit her love. He told her that she shouldn't waste her time. He could never love. Somehow, they ended up with a deep, passionate kiss that evening. Many evenings were spent in empty classrooms, making love until sunrise. But only a week before school ended, he had ended their relationship, telling her that although he didn't love her, he didn't want to see her hurt, so was breaking up with her. Belle thought herself foolish. Who was she to think that she could make him love her? How could she have hoped that they could be something more? Why did she think she had the right to be angry with him for this? He had warned her from the start. He had told her couldn't love her. They had kept it a secret for so long, she knew they couldn't continue. But her heart refused these thoughts. It was ripped into a million pieces, ground into dust and blown away into the cold, sharp wind. That summer, Belle's fragile spun sugar mask broke. And it bled. She bled. Day after day, when her tears could no longer express her heartache, her blood cried for her. Once, Melodie had come into the bathroom and saw Mirabelle bleeding into the sink. Belle told her she had accidentally cut herself, and not to worry. Now, at school, Mirabelle had to put the mask back on, but this time it was glass. It was still ever so fragile, but all the more sturdy than sugar that could melt, shatter or stick.
Mirabelle's thoughts were interrupted when Harry, Ron, and Hermione came into the compartment, grinning and soaked. They sat down by her and continued their chatter for a moment before noticing the tears now sliding down their friend's face. Ron was laughing loudly moments after Hermione and Harry had fallen silent. Hermione glared at him. Harry went over and crouched down by the sad girl.
"Oi, Mira. What's the matter?" He asked concernedly. Unlike the others, he preferred this nickname rather than Belle. She gave him a watery smile and wiped her eyes.
"Nothing. I-I'm fine." Belle lied. There was no way she'd let them know. However, she didn't realize that her shirtsleeve had stayed up from when she had been feeling the scars.
"What's this?" He asked, indicating the laced flesh. Mirabelle's pupils contracted as she looked up suddenly, pulling down her shirtsleeve.
"N-It's nothing." She repeated. The others looked skeptical.
"It doesn't look like nothing, Belle." Said Hermione. "If you're hurt, you can tell us. We're your friends. You can trust us." Hermione looked sincere, but Belle wasn't sure how the boys would handle it.
"Hermione, I don't want to.It's personal." Mirabelle said. Hermione took her by the arm and led her away from the boys, then cast a Silence Bubble around them.
"All right, now will you tell me?" Hermione asked kindly. The other girl glared sullenly for several minutes before reluctantly nodding. Then she began.
"It all began in the third year. You see, there was this boy. He's not in our house, but he's in our year. Anyway, I started to like him. At first, I denied it, but then I started having these.dreams about him. And I noticed weird things, like how he always bites his lip when there's a tough problem. I talked to him a few times, but he was really cold to me. I still liked him, though, even in fourth year. Then in fifth year, I couldn't take it. I was head over heels in love with him. So I wrote him a note. I told him to meet me in the Astronomy Tower after supper. I was nervous at first but then I told him how I felt. I told him I loved him, and I had since third year. He told me he couldn't love." She paused, and Hermione jumped at the chance to speak.
"He said he couldn't love you? Who is this guy?!" She exclaimed, indignant on Mirabelle's behalf. She held up a hand for silence.
"I'm getting to that. He didn't say he couldn't love me. He said he couldn't love, period. He warned me, he said that I shouldn't get involved with him, for my own sake. I should've listened, but I'm glad I didn't. Anyway, that evening I kissed him, and we made out. The next week we were making love in empty classrooms. We even did it once in a regular classroom. I liked the thrill of the chance Professor McGonagall might walk in any second. That's beside the point. A week before school ended, he broke up with me. I knew he didn't love me. I knew I was just his little toy, but he said that he cared. He doesn't love me, but he cares! So when I went home, I couldn't take it any more. I didn't care whether or not he loved me. I just wanted to be near him. I cried and cried, and when I couldn't cry anymore, I bled." Belle's voice cracked towards the end. She rolled up her sleeves and showed both arms for evidence. "I still love him." She said quietly. Hermione looked torn between sympathy and horror.
"You were cutting yourself? But.But. That jackass! Who is he?!" she demanded, but Mirabelle flared up.
"See?! See?! This is why I didn't want you to know! I knew you be upset like this! And now you're going to hate Draco even more, when it's not even his fault! He warned me! I didn't listen! This is my fault! Don't you dare blame the boy for what his father's done to him!!!" She screamed at the shocked Hermione. She fell to her knees, sobbing. "I'm sorry." She whispered. The boys looked. Although they couldn't hear a thing, they knew it was something big. Mirabelle hardly raised her voice or had a temper. Hermione kneeled beside her and cradled her shaking form, stroking her hair comfortingly, the occasional tear slipping down her own face. Soon Mirabelle dried her eyes, and she stood, tall and straight despite her still slightly blotchy face. Ron looked worried still, but Harry gave Mira a big, warm hug. He kissed the top of her head, then whispered,
"Care to tell me?" Her silky, maple brown hair muffled his voice. She nodded.
"Ask Hermione." And so he did. When Hermione told him the whole story, the distress on his face was apparent. He whispered something back, and Hermione glanced at Belle before looking back toward him understandingly.
Before they knew it, the school train lurched to a stop, and they filed off, one by one. Huddled together to ward off the freezing temperatures (though it had stopped raining) the four crammed into a horseless carriage, and off they went to Hogwarts. Ron was looking desperately from Harry to Hermione to Mirabelle, then back to Harry.
"Somebody? Say something? Please? C'mon guys, can't you tell me?" He looked frustrated and confused. All of a sudden, Mirabelle burst out laughing. Ron was further perplexed, but he soon broke into a dazed grin. Harry and Hermione just stared at them like they had just grown extra heads or something. Mirabelle abruptly stopped and slowly, deliberately turned her head towards the two silent ones.
"Laugh," she said in a commanding voice, her tone had a cold edge, "or I'll sick my fluffy pink bunny rabbit on you." She then shrieked and wriggled around making strange noises before finally leaning on Hermione, laughing until she thought she would puke. Harry cocked an eyebrow then began to chuckle, which soon turned into a full-fledged laugh. Hermione just looked scared.
"Whoa!" they all exclaimed together in chipmunk-like voices as the carriage jerked to a halt.
As soon as the Sorting ended, Mirabelle ran up to each of the new Gryffindors, slapped them lightly, and then screamed at the top of her lungs,
"Le attaque du rose pelucheux lapin! L'horreur! L'horreur!!!" she frightened most of them, but one or two stared blankly, and one laughed. She liked the one who laughed. He seemed kind. Belle decided to keep him, and thusly tied him to a red leash.
"There. Now you're my pet." She said with a wink.
Across the hall sat a smirking, pale boy. Over the summer, Draco had dyed his hair black, with shocking red tips, and charmed it to grow out the same way. It looked incredibly good on him, bringing out the creamy color of his smooth skin. When he thought no one was looking, he dropped his false expression and left the Great Hall, looking back with dulled, melancholy eyes at two of the Gryffindor Four, as they had been dubbed. He knew it wasn't right. Last year he had convinced himself that he was dead inside. That no matter what, he couldn't feel. But this girl, this Mirabelle, showed him. He realized he cared for her, but she was not the one he longed for. Draco did love Mirabelle, but not as she loved him. He wanted Mirabelle to be happy.
As the Slytherin boy made his way into the common room, he wondered why he did not love Mirabelle so romantically. As it was said before, he did love her. He loved her like.No, not a sister. More of a friend-type-person-thing- or-whatever. With a heavy sigh, Draco sank into the couch furthest from the fire. If only he hadn't tried to push her away. Damn Gryffindors! The more you warn them, the less they take heed. Of course, now that he had realized he could love, the one he truly wanted was unattainable. Harry Potter could never be his.
Whee! I'm having such great fun with this. Please tell me what you think; I can hardly stand the silence. What will happen? When do Siri and Remmy come in? How will Mirabelle treat Draco? All these answered and much more.throughout many chapters ahead.