A/N:
Disclaimer: Sorry I'm not Jk Rowling and I own nothing out of or from Harry Potter.
I, however, own my character. My made up custom characters.Which you shall not use at all, so don't even ask.
-Grim Land
aka
Grim On Loose.
Title: When You're Smiling
Chapter One: Ribbons And Pearls
--You see things through my eyes, you see things more different than different before. You see sadness. You see dark . You see me. "I'm open." What about me? "I'm open all the way." Open. Open. You see?--
"And Gryffindor takes the lead by twenty, with Slytherin falling behind---Oh well..." a small stringy boy named Lee Jordan remarked happily, for it was, to every other house, known that every untainted and sensible non-pure-blood hoped to witness the failure of Slytherin house for all their cruelty and unlike ability. He was dark in completion, like any other black child, but a soft chocolate velvet, he was the only son out of four girls and on top of that the oldest in one grade above me. Mr. and Mrs. Jordan, who I suspected has always doted on the boy because of his shyness and stutter-like nature, sat cheering on the apposing team. (Yes, former Gryffindors. And yes, the goody-goody doesn't fall far from the suck-up tree.) I sneered visibly, wishing I could take the beater from one of the Slytherin boys to take a bludger to that Gryff' boy Jordan just to shut his fat lipped mouth. Hissing, I watched on. The quaffill went from Hennessey to Spinnetty to Johnson, who, in hopes, shot the red leather skin ball to the outer hoop for a winning score. But a lanky Slytherin boy raised a equally lanky hand and caught it effortlessly in mid-air , passing it to Flit, who passed it to Montague, gaining us five points. I cheered half-heartedly, even though I did want Slytherin to win, I hated quiddich, with all the tedious flying around. Angelina Johnson was the daughter of a Quiddich player and was quite rich and quite pure. Shame she made it into Gryffindor. I bet she insisted on being in Gryffindor, she was playing hard-to-get with that Weasley boy, Fred I think. I made a growling noise, thirty minutes latter I fashioned a half frown. That Potter-boy was within inches of the golden snitch, with Malfoy hot on his trail. Draco Malfoy reached his arm out to his left side, only to have Harry Potter snatch it the moment his fingers grassed its small wing, winning the Quiddich Cup. Yet, there is a slight moment when you stop, look, rub your eyes, and look again saying: "is that Harry Potter", and why yes it is an enigma, raped in a conundrum, plated in gold. Yes, we indeed have the "Harry Potter" attending this school, pity. And, of course, Draco is the son of the infamous Lucius Malfoy, Ministry man. A man who flirts relentlessly, harasses regularly, flaunts his wealth incessantly, and cheats on the daily bases. I can tell Draco will turn out the same way. I could say lots relating to Mr. Malfoy, but once again, I hold my tongue. cough playercough ( you would probably say : "why, what a terrible thing to say" and swish your head and point your hypocritical finger. But, I'll tell you one thing: "It Wont Work", pound it into your thick sculls. And you have to know the man to not stand up for him. Pure scum, but deadly sexy)
"Gryffindor has won the Quiddich Cup, Gryffindor has won the Quiddich Cup" Jordan gave a holler of excitement, pushing his arms in the air like tilting up some unseen weight. I gave him a rude gesture and made sure he saw it, for I sat in the row on his right side. The announcement tower was the only thing that separated the Gryffindors and Slytherins from a certain and horrible riot. It was known that Slytherin house and Gryffindor house had nothing but hate between each other. I was standing, arms folded, in the field with the other antisocial people in the more thinner outer crowed of cheering and hooting black, scarlet, and gold Gryffindors.(at least I was told it were those colors) I sighed, shifted, and stood. I headed toward the inner huddle of lion-like students. I had some business to apply myself to. I hung back from the throng of howling students, them, bobbing up and down like rabbits in a oven. I sighed heavily, shifted from one foot to the other, gathered my wits and shoved off to the pandemonium. Of course, being a dirty, rotten, low-life Slytherin, it was unthinkable that a Slytherin and a Gryffindor would ever converse or even work together willingly, but here I am fraternizing with the enemy. I shifted the manila office folder from under the dark green of my school robes out in front of me. I scanned over the makings of the information in side and tucked it away again.
I spotted Hennessey. I remembered she would always ware ribbons and pearls. No matter if she was in the air or on the ground, she was always warring a red silk ribbon and a string of ivory white pearls. Marcela Hennessey was the daughter of Alcame Spinnetty, half sister of Alicia Spinnetty. And which of course Hennessey doesn't know and neither does her sister. It so happens that there has been plenty of dysfunctional moments in her family life, more than she can handle, so she split and went to live with her grandmother on her father's side. Marcela just so happened to change her name from Spinnetty to Hennessey, in memory of her grandmother. And some times I'm surprised by how much I'm informed with predicaments I have nothing to do with. I shrugged it off and finally stood an arms length before her. I made a 'A-hum' noise.
"I am sorry to intrude on your celebration, but Miss Hennessey I do believe you have a dilemma that we have yet to discuss and you should have all intention of discussing it with me." I said so formally and flat it remained me of a robot that went where you said and did what you said.(quite amazing it you ask me) I motioned toward the exit of the pitch, she fallowed with out a word of protest.
We were far in the castle for anyone to know where we were when we started to deliberate.
"Miss Hennessey," I pulled out a one inch thick stack of parchment "I have dug as deep as I can go and what you may see will very well change your in tier view on your mother." I gave her a chance to think about it. Well, you couldn't blame me for wanting to give her time before she finds out her mother was a whore and she was a basterd child of a unknowing father. I told her everything she needed to know, or how much she could handle. There were some vary sensitive issues.
"As I conclude, Miss Hennessey, You have been denied the right to know the existence of a half sister."
"Who?" was all she could say, her eyes held tears and I can't stand tears, they show weakness.
"Alicia Spinnetty." and she cried. She loved Alicia like a sister and now that she knew she was a real sister she could not contain herself. She hugged me then. I did not know how to carry out or what to voice. She just hugged me, said thank you, and fled to where ever she had to go to. And for once in my life I was envious of another. It was the end of the year and the train was leaving, I had to pack before it left with out me. It was going to be my third year dead and gone away. I could only hope that this time I make it back.