Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form. Otherwise I'd own one Draco Malfoy giggles oh, the thoughts. . .
"Syrian? What do you think Hogwarts will be like?" asked a girl, roughly the age of fourteen with bright green eyes and long blonde hair, which contained almost-white locks as well.
Syrian, a girl with dark blue eyes that were commonly mistaken for black and long black hair that contained a strange silver hue, looked at the blond thoughtfully, "I'm not sure Natalie. Very different from Durmstrang and Beauxbatons, I'm sure."
The blonde, Natalie, laughed happily, "Well of course! But won't it be weird, you know, going in our third year?"
"Sure," Syrian replied distractedly as she thumbed through her newest book called: The Casting and Defense of the Dark Arts by: Korbington the Wise.
Natalie laid back on her bed in the room that she shared with her sister. "Syri?" she questioned, "what do you think dad would say about our current situation with the Rodchesters?"
Just by looking at their room and their physical features, you would never guess that these two girls were, in fact, related. Natalie, with her light blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and cheery disposition, decorated her side of the room with posters of Fairies, Quidditch teams and players, and muggle movie stars. On the other hand, her sister Syrian, with her dark black hair, mysterious yet haunting dark eyes, and gloomy disposition, didn't bother decorating her side of the room, she collected books instead and had three bookshelves completely filled.
But this question caught Syrians attention instantly, her eyes left her book and snapped to her sister, "how many times must I tell you that the man you call father isn't part of this family and never will be. He is a murderer and always will be one. So I suggest that you forget about him and pick up your books. We have no idea what rate they teach at Hogwarts and I don't fancy being behind."
Natalie slid off of her pink covered bed and looked at her sister with anger filled eyes. "How can you say that? I don't know where you got your opinions about our dad, but I believe what mom said. He was a good man whether you want to believe it or not." Her hand clasped the green-winged fairy necklace that used to belong to their mother as she spoke.
Syrian slammed her book shut in frustration. With a glare at her sister she rose from her bed and stalked out the door, leaving Natalie to watch her retreating figure with a deep sadness.
"Oh, Syri," she whispered, "what happened to you? You've changed so much in the last three years. Ever since mom died. . ." she trailed off.