I Ain't Your Property
Disclaimer: If I owned HP, Tom Riddle and Blaise Zambini would be head over heels in love with me, Draco Malfoy would be my shoe shine boy, and Harry Potter would be chained up in a dungeon with one million magical whips causing him immense pain. Pity they don't belong to me. But JK owns them, and I admit that even the daydreams of a magical world that I had as a child couldn't compare to her marvelous writing.
Summary: Through the eyes of the pet of Draco Malfoy - A tiny faerie stuck in a jar for all eternity. Her feelings on her master, her feelings on her current status, and her feelings on those brutes that leer at her through the glass of her small sanctum.
Claimer: I own all unrecognized characters, especially Edareclya. Hope you like her. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
On the bedside table beside one of the 9 beds in the Slytherin boys dormitory, a glass jar gave off a purplish light. If one were to look closer, they'd see the tiny face of a young faerie pressed up against the glass. This faerie's name was Edareclya. Edareclya was small for a faerie, and she had purple hair that was usually up in a ponytail. Her eyes were large and buggish, and of a shade of purple not unlike that of her hair. She wore a dress of leaves.
The table her home sat on was next to the bed containing one very much asleep Mr. Draco Malfoy.
*~*~*~*~*
I hate this. This isn't fun anymore. I stayed calm for 14 years. I can't take it anymore. I want out, and I want out NOW.
Ow.
I didn't realize it hurt that much to slam against this 'glass' stuff.
I think my wing is bloody broken. Oh God, what will Master say when he awakes in a good 2 hours and checks on me before he gets prepared for school?
He'll throw a fit. He'll chuck things at Senor Vincent and Senor Gregory. He'll blame them for my wing. He never blames me, he thinks I'm just a faerie. He wouldn't think that I'd be fool enough to fly into the glass.
Yes, I'm fully aware that you silly girls are bloody jealous of me. Yes, I get to view him changing every morning. No, his body is not that of a Greek god's. So sue me, I saw him when he was 1 month old and screaming his blonde little head off. He wasn't exactly all that cute then, you know. In fact, if you had seen him, you would have gagged and spit up your bloody lunch. I mean, a bright red face and blonde hair may be cute now, but at that age? Puh-lease! Get a bloody life, if you think that's cute. Sure, mothers always love their children, but that doesn't mean pets have to love their masters.
Yeah, he loves me.
Not in that way! Ew! Gag me with a rubber spoon why don't you?!?!?
He loves me in a PLATONIC WAY.
Get over it, Senor Vincent. Get over it, Senor Gregory.
Because, even if he only loves me in a platonic way, he won't let you even think about laying one of your grimy, greasy fingers on me, and that goes for you too, Ronald Weasley.
Yeah, Weasley's seen me. He seemed to think I must be a faerie princess. Typical - Weasley's couldn't afford even the lowest of the lower class faeries, so of course he's never seen one. But me, a faerie princess? Why the idea is simply absurd! I'd only be a middle class faerie, if I were among my kind! After all, the princess of faeries is so beautiful, her beauty rivals that of rainbows and the ocean, of gold and silver, and you get the picture.
Now, I'm getting bored. What time is it?
I've been blabbering on for an hour and a half?!?!?! Master's going to be up in thirty minutes! I have to make sure I have an acceptable appearance! Quick, wipe tears of sorrow for missing my family away. Straighten out my wings. Brush the aphids off of my dress. Look perky, look perky, fly up anticipating his awakening, look perky, ow ow bugger ow!
Fell. Okay, sit on the highest branch anticipating his awakening and look perky while constantly brushing aphids off my bloody dress.
Okay, he's awake. Wait as he reaches over my jar to whack his alarm clock, then as he sits up blurry eyed and smiles at me. He leans over to say his daily 'Good morning and I nearly get knocked out by his morning breath.
Eye yi yi yi yi yikes!
He noticed the wing. And nearly made my hair stand up when he yelled.
"What in the name of arse happened? What did you two do to her?"
My, he's developed a potty mouth as he's grown.
Omigod funny, so funny. I nearly fell off of my branch watching him yell at Senor Vincent and Senor Gregory. They may be strong, but they're dead afraid of him. Of course they are, he knows enough curses to curse them into oblivion.
Can you say 'Hi Oblivion, how's the wife and kids?'
That's what they're gonna be saying in a few minutes.
That is, if overgrown grease ball Snapie-poo doesn't interfere.
Yeesh. Ruin a good argument, why don't you, Snapie-poo?
And now, the daily joy of watching Master dress. Ugh. Excuse me while I adjust my hair while looking into the mirror that he hung right behind his bedside table.
Oh wonderful. I'm being carried off to the hospital wing, apparently. Well, this is a first. Never gotten a good look around the school before. After all, I've been stuck in his suitcase every time we've arrived or left at Hogwarts.
Oh, now who is this kindly looking matron of this all white room?
Okay, I did not expect him to take me out of my jar and hand me to her, only to have some foul tasting fluid forced down my throat.
Yay! Going back to my homely bedside table to sit there for the rest of the school day while Master goes through the grueling horror of classes.
That is, unless he deems me worthy of handing me over to his girlfriend Pansy to keep in her empty fish tank for the day.
I most certainly hope she doesn't decide to dress me in doll clothes.
Thank you. Now, as I sit in this much larger version of my glass sanctum, I plot. And plan.
I think it's time to show these twerps that I ain't their property.
*~*~*~*~*
How do you like? Is it good? Please R and R. Give me feedback. Flames will be used to supply my sister's newfound supply of candles.
Disclaimer: If I owned HP, Tom Riddle and Blaise Zambini would be head over heels in love with me, Draco Malfoy would be my shoe shine boy, and Harry Potter would be chained up in a dungeon with one million magical whips causing him immense pain. Pity they don't belong to me. But JK owns them, and I admit that even the daydreams of a magical world that I had as a child couldn't compare to her marvelous writing.
Summary: Through the eyes of the pet of Draco Malfoy - A tiny faerie stuck in a jar for all eternity. Her feelings on her master, her feelings on her current status, and her feelings on those brutes that leer at her through the glass of her small sanctum.
Claimer: I own all unrecognized characters, especially Edareclya. Hope you like her. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
On the bedside table beside one of the 9 beds in the Slytherin boys dormitory, a glass jar gave off a purplish light. If one were to look closer, they'd see the tiny face of a young faerie pressed up against the glass. This faerie's name was Edareclya. Edareclya was small for a faerie, and she had purple hair that was usually up in a ponytail. Her eyes were large and buggish, and of a shade of purple not unlike that of her hair. She wore a dress of leaves.
The table her home sat on was next to the bed containing one very much asleep Mr. Draco Malfoy.
*~*~*~*~*
I hate this. This isn't fun anymore. I stayed calm for 14 years. I can't take it anymore. I want out, and I want out NOW.
Ow.
I didn't realize it hurt that much to slam against this 'glass' stuff.
I think my wing is bloody broken. Oh God, what will Master say when he awakes in a good 2 hours and checks on me before he gets prepared for school?
He'll throw a fit. He'll chuck things at Senor Vincent and Senor Gregory. He'll blame them for my wing. He never blames me, he thinks I'm just a faerie. He wouldn't think that I'd be fool enough to fly into the glass.
Yes, I'm fully aware that you silly girls are bloody jealous of me. Yes, I get to view him changing every morning. No, his body is not that of a Greek god's. So sue me, I saw him when he was 1 month old and screaming his blonde little head off. He wasn't exactly all that cute then, you know. In fact, if you had seen him, you would have gagged and spit up your bloody lunch. I mean, a bright red face and blonde hair may be cute now, but at that age? Puh-lease! Get a bloody life, if you think that's cute. Sure, mothers always love their children, but that doesn't mean pets have to love their masters.
Yeah, he loves me.
Not in that way! Ew! Gag me with a rubber spoon why don't you?!?!?
He loves me in a PLATONIC WAY.
Get over it, Senor Vincent. Get over it, Senor Gregory.
Because, even if he only loves me in a platonic way, he won't let you even think about laying one of your grimy, greasy fingers on me, and that goes for you too, Ronald Weasley.
Yeah, Weasley's seen me. He seemed to think I must be a faerie princess. Typical - Weasley's couldn't afford even the lowest of the lower class faeries, so of course he's never seen one. But me, a faerie princess? Why the idea is simply absurd! I'd only be a middle class faerie, if I were among my kind! After all, the princess of faeries is so beautiful, her beauty rivals that of rainbows and the ocean, of gold and silver, and you get the picture.
Now, I'm getting bored. What time is it?
I've been blabbering on for an hour and a half?!?!?! Master's going to be up in thirty minutes! I have to make sure I have an acceptable appearance! Quick, wipe tears of sorrow for missing my family away. Straighten out my wings. Brush the aphids off of my dress. Look perky, look perky, fly up anticipating his awakening, look perky, ow ow bugger ow!
Fell. Okay, sit on the highest branch anticipating his awakening and look perky while constantly brushing aphids off my bloody dress.
Okay, he's awake. Wait as he reaches over my jar to whack his alarm clock, then as he sits up blurry eyed and smiles at me. He leans over to say his daily 'Good morning and I nearly get knocked out by his morning breath.
Eye yi yi yi yi yikes!
He noticed the wing. And nearly made my hair stand up when he yelled.
"What in the name of arse happened? What did you two do to her?"
My, he's developed a potty mouth as he's grown.
Omigod funny, so funny. I nearly fell off of my branch watching him yell at Senor Vincent and Senor Gregory. They may be strong, but they're dead afraid of him. Of course they are, he knows enough curses to curse them into oblivion.
Can you say 'Hi Oblivion, how's the wife and kids?'
That's what they're gonna be saying in a few minutes.
That is, if overgrown grease ball Snapie-poo doesn't interfere.
Yeesh. Ruin a good argument, why don't you, Snapie-poo?
And now, the daily joy of watching Master dress. Ugh. Excuse me while I adjust my hair while looking into the mirror that he hung right behind his bedside table.
Oh wonderful. I'm being carried off to the hospital wing, apparently. Well, this is a first. Never gotten a good look around the school before. After all, I've been stuck in his suitcase every time we've arrived or left at Hogwarts.
Oh, now who is this kindly looking matron of this all white room?
Okay, I did not expect him to take me out of my jar and hand me to her, only to have some foul tasting fluid forced down my throat.
Yay! Going back to my homely bedside table to sit there for the rest of the school day while Master goes through the grueling horror of classes.
That is, unless he deems me worthy of handing me over to his girlfriend Pansy to keep in her empty fish tank for the day.
I most certainly hope she doesn't decide to dress me in doll clothes.
Thank you. Now, as I sit in this much larger version of my glass sanctum, I plot. And plan.
I think it's time to show these twerps that I ain't their property.
*~*~*~*~*
How do you like? Is it good? Please R and R. Give me feedback. Flames will be used to supply my sister's newfound supply of candles.