Disclaimer: Oh my G do I have to do these things every chapter? I don't own
any BIT of HP!!! WISH I DID! I'D BE FILTHY RICH NOW!
Anyway keep up the good reading, Cherie-O!
Cheers-
------------------Cold Eyes----------------
Cold eyes. Morgan Le'Font shuddered, such cold eyes were the eyes of her father.
"You will not go to that school, and that is final!" Phillpe Le'Font's eyes glowed with something akin to rage as he shouted at his daughter, the small twelve year old Morgan.
"But father, it is a perfectly legitimate school! They, they have good teachers and everything! You won't have to pay for my books, I can gather the money myself." Morgan flung herself at her fathers' feet, tears crashing down her cheeks, praying to whatever god she knew to have pity on her and change her father's mind.
"Never, no daughter of mine shall consort with fellows like them! No daughter of mine will go to a school like that! No daughter of mine will be a witch, not while I'm alive."
"But Father!" Morgan cried.
"That is FINAL!" He yelled, backhanding her, and causing her to fall on the floor.
Collapsing to a heap on the floor, Morgan began to sob quietly.
* * *
The doors of the Great Hall shut behind McGonagall and I as we walked into the room. My eyes widened slightly at the sight; row after row of clamoring students met her eyes as their voices filled the hall. Looking up I noted the candles and way in the rafters, a great enchantment lingered, bewitching the eyes and the heart to see not the ceiling, but the sky as it was outside.
Truly wondrous.
"Now Morgan," McGonagall began, "Seeing as you are not a first year, we shall not sort you with their like," I nodded in agreement as she pulled me into a corner, away from the tables but not quite out of view. "In a few moments, those doors will open and the new students will come into the hall, you will not join them, but will wait behind them. After they are all sorted, Professor Dumbledore," She inclined her head to a rather elderly man sitting at the head of what could only be presumed as the teachers table, " will call for quite and you shall stand. Prepare yourself, young one, you are about to be sorted." Professor McGonagall ended with a small chuckle, and left me standing with my doubts.
* * *
Midnight found Morgan collecting her things, her body moving only on the though of running away.
"All right, I have my diary, my clothes, my letter." Checking her bag for any other things she though, What have I forgotten?
Food she thought.
Morgan clutched her bag to her chest and slowly pushed her door open.
Nobody there.Slowly she began to tiptoe her way into the center of the house, it wasn't very hard, the house wasn't very big. Reaching the kitchen, which was only the second of three rooms, she carefully reached into a cupboard, her hand producing a wheel of cheese.
"One more thing," she whispered to herself and reached into the back of the cabinet. Grasping around, her hand found the prize, a slab of salted pork. Gently closing the cabinet door, she put the cheese and pork in her bag, and turned around.
And came face-to-face with her father.
* * *
I was bought back to earth at a burst of applause from the students.
"Morgan, Morgan!" I looking around I saw Pat, standing a few feet away from me in a line of students. " Morgan, c'mere! You look comatose, why aren't you with the rest of us?"
" I'm to be sorted after the rest of you guys."
"Well are you in trouble, then?" She asked in an undertone as the rest of the school fell quiet.
No, I mouthed.
Good, Pat mouthed back to me as she turned around. Looking to see what had gathered her attention, my gaze was drawn to a hat. Quite a patched and old hat.
Looks like it's seen a few hard times, I thought. As the hat burst into song, my eyes glazed over, and memory once again stole my breath away.
* * *
"Well, saw fit to run away, eh?" Morgan's father paced in front of her. It was two days after the situation which he had caught her in, and he was showing no signs of relenting his punishments.
"Well, we can't have that, can we? Hm? Can't have my dear daughter running away now, it wouldn't be too good for appearances. Well Morgan," Well seemed to be his favorite word today, she thought as her father turned his back to her, "You'll have no more reason to do that anymore."
Morgan gulped as he turned around, knowing her father he was going to do something horrible.
"No reason anymore, for as of now, you are engaged, courtesy of myself."
"To who, father?" Morgan's mind could think of only one person, one person in all of London who would want to marry her.
Who, indeed?
* * * @@@@@@@@
Okay, Okay, we're almost to the part with Severus Snape. You guys just be patient, if it isn't obvious already
Thanx for the reviews! Keep em comin'!
Anyway keep up the good reading, Cherie-O!
Cheers-
------------------Cold Eyes----------------
Cold eyes. Morgan Le'Font shuddered, such cold eyes were the eyes of her father.
"You will not go to that school, and that is final!" Phillpe Le'Font's eyes glowed with something akin to rage as he shouted at his daughter, the small twelve year old Morgan.
"But father, it is a perfectly legitimate school! They, they have good teachers and everything! You won't have to pay for my books, I can gather the money myself." Morgan flung herself at her fathers' feet, tears crashing down her cheeks, praying to whatever god she knew to have pity on her and change her father's mind.
"Never, no daughter of mine shall consort with fellows like them! No daughter of mine will go to a school like that! No daughter of mine will be a witch, not while I'm alive."
"But Father!" Morgan cried.
"That is FINAL!" He yelled, backhanding her, and causing her to fall on the floor.
Collapsing to a heap on the floor, Morgan began to sob quietly.
* * *
The doors of the Great Hall shut behind McGonagall and I as we walked into the room. My eyes widened slightly at the sight; row after row of clamoring students met her eyes as their voices filled the hall. Looking up I noted the candles and way in the rafters, a great enchantment lingered, bewitching the eyes and the heart to see not the ceiling, but the sky as it was outside.
Truly wondrous.
"Now Morgan," McGonagall began, "Seeing as you are not a first year, we shall not sort you with their like," I nodded in agreement as she pulled me into a corner, away from the tables but not quite out of view. "In a few moments, those doors will open and the new students will come into the hall, you will not join them, but will wait behind them. After they are all sorted, Professor Dumbledore," She inclined her head to a rather elderly man sitting at the head of what could only be presumed as the teachers table, " will call for quite and you shall stand. Prepare yourself, young one, you are about to be sorted." Professor McGonagall ended with a small chuckle, and left me standing with my doubts.
* * *
Midnight found Morgan collecting her things, her body moving only on the though of running away.
"All right, I have my diary, my clothes, my letter." Checking her bag for any other things she though, What have I forgotten?
Food she thought.
Morgan clutched her bag to her chest and slowly pushed her door open.
Nobody there.Slowly she began to tiptoe her way into the center of the house, it wasn't very hard, the house wasn't very big. Reaching the kitchen, which was only the second of three rooms, she carefully reached into a cupboard, her hand producing a wheel of cheese.
"One more thing," she whispered to herself and reached into the back of the cabinet. Grasping around, her hand found the prize, a slab of salted pork. Gently closing the cabinet door, she put the cheese and pork in her bag, and turned around.
And came face-to-face with her father.
* * *
I was bought back to earth at a burst of applause from the students.
"Morgan, Morgan!" I looking around I saw Pat, standing a few feet away from me in a line of students. " Morgan, c'mere! You look comatose, why aren't you with the rest of us?"
" I'm to be sorted after the rest of you guys."
"Well are you in trouble, then?" She asked in an undertone as the rest of the school fell quiet.
No, I mouthed.
Good, Pat mouthed back to me as she turned around. Looking to see what had gathered her attention, my gaze was drawn to a hat. Quite a patched and old hat.
Looks like it's seen a few hard times, I thought. As the hat burst into song, my eyes glazed over, and memory once again stole my breath away.
* * *
"Well, saw fit to run away, eh?" Morgan's father paced in front of her. It was two days after the situation which he had caught her in, and he was showing no signs of relenting his punishments.
"Well, we can't have that, can we? Hm? Can't have my dear daughter running away now, it wouldn't be too good for appearances. Well Morgan," Well seemed to be his favorite word today, she thought as her father turned his back to her, "You'll have no more reason to do that anymore."
Morgan gulped as he turned around, knowing her father he was going to do something horrible.
"No reason anymore, for as of now, you are engaged, courtesy of myself."
"To who, father?" Morgan's mind could think of only one person, one person in all of London who would want to marry her.
Who, indeed?
* * * @@@@@@@@
Okay, Okay, we're almost to the part with Severus Snape. You guys just be patient, if it isn't obvious already
Thanx for the reviews! Keep em comin'!