This is the SEQUEL to Brown Eyes and Teal Hair, so please read that story before New Perpectives, you will find it on my profile.
Enjoy!
-I do not own and the the HP universe e.g. JKR's characters, buildings, spells ect.
Listening to: New Perpectives by P!ANIC at the Disco
Chapter 1: Late Night Drinks
Fire. It seems to be around me. Consuming me. I try to take a deep breath, but all I can manage are short shallow ones. The flickering flames bite my skin without mercy, leaving me with ugly looking burns. My hair is getting the brunt of the attack as well. It was now dishevelled and burnt. I feel trapped. I am trapped.
I hear a shrill, mocking laugh. A girl approaches my burning body. Her skin is burnt as well, leaving large burns all around her porcelain body. The girl's brown hair was singed at the ends and her eyes had a malicious look to them. Eli.
"Eli." I croak at trying to sit up, but it pains too much, so I lay back down.
"It hurts, doesn't it. Fire." She barely moves her lips, but I hear every word.
"Help me, please" I plead. She laughs again in the mocking tone.
"Did you help me Orianna?" She asks walking closer. "Did you run into a burning room and save me?"
"I couldn't Eli! I tried, but-but-"
"But-but," she imitates "I thought we were in this together Orianna, but it seems like you only looked out for one person. Yourself!" Elizabeth draws out a silver dagger.
"Elizabeth please listen! I never wanted you to die! I should of did something! I should of helped you. I know!" I exclaim tears stinging my burning face.
"That's the thing with Hindsight. It only tortures the living, not the dead" and Eli strikes the dagger into my burning heart.
I wake up in a cold sweat, gasping in air. That dream. The dream where I am burning alive. The dream where Elizabeth is cold and murderous. The where Eli kills me. I shiver at the thought of my best friend killing me. Elizabeth, a murderer, no. But the dream still plagues me two weeks after Elizabeth Taylor's death.
I kick away the sheets, that were tangled in between my legs and stand up. During the day or night, the room that Uncle Adrian gave me still looks plain and boring. The white walls and cream carpets just reminded me of my bedroom in Andrew Manor which depresses me slightly.
I have a small desk, which is covered with half decent attempts of letters to send James a letter. Any time I do try to write, all that comes out are sympathy soaked rubbish. It's not like he has written to me yet either, so it seems like we are in the same boat. But there is one small sheet of cardboard that stands out. Not because it was onyx black with white writing or because as the moonlight shines on it it seems to glitter slightly.
No, because it was an invitation to Eli's funeral.
I knew it was coming, of course. I just don't want it to be too sad. Eli was a happy person after all.
I walk over to the door and stop when I reach the mirror hanging just beside it. My night top is drenched in sweat and my black hair is unkempt and sticks up in funny places. I sigh deeply, turn the door knob and walk out of the door.
Uncle Adrian's London apartment was not the biggest by any means. There were only two bedrooms, a closet sized office, a small bathroom and an even tinier kitchen. The living room was one of the only rooms you could go into where the room wasn't filled to the brim with quizzes and test papers. Uncle Adrian was an English teacher at a local secondary school and during the past two weeks he has been fretting over lesson planning and grade estimating.
I, on the other hand, have been trying to keep busy with reading. All of the books Uncle Adrian are written by the muggle writers like Shakespeare and Jane Austen. Interesting little tales they have written as well. Well interesting enough to keep my mind off my recurring nightmare...
I tip toe quietly down the narrow corridors and slip into the kitchen. The floor are titled the cliche black and white and walls are painted a disgusting shade of green. I walk over towards the fridge and open it. My eyes automatically go to the glass bottle with blood red liquid in it. Without thinking I take it out and uncork the bottle. I am about to pour it into a wine glass when the lights flick on.
Uncle Adrian was standing leaning on the door frame looking tired. He was probably still up creating revision timetables for his year eleven classes or something. He is wearing some pinstriped pajama bottoms with a white vest.
"Umm," is all that comes out of my mouth. I'm not used to getting caught. I was usually quiet and agile enough to read by candlelight in the Andrew Manor library at night when my bed became too uncomfortable. Or when me and Eli- Don't think about Eli.
"So are you going to drink that?" He gestures the bottle in my hand. I pour the red liquid into the glass and take a big gulp. "Does that answer your question?" I say and finish off the glass. It tastes incredibly bitter, but I feel a little less heavy than I did, a moment ago, so I pour myself another.
I raise the glass to my lips, but I notice Uncle Adrian is still staring. I slam my glass down. "Go on tell me off."
"I wasn't going to, " he replies simply.
"Why?"
"Because you are old enough to make your own choices."
"I'm 16."
"Are you telling me that a sixteen year old witch can't make her own choices?" I eye my uncle curiously. He should be trying to stop me from getting drunk not encouraging me!
"So are you done with that bottle, because I feel like a little wine as well." He says. I look at the bottle, then him and then pour some more wine into my glass.
"Come, let's sit at the table." Uncle Adrian says after pouring out some wine for himself.
He removes the tall pile of paperwork and pulls out a seat for me that I take.
"So," he says after a long sip of wine, "Why are you up at this time?"
"I couldn't sleep." It wasn't really a lie, I mean I couldn't sleep, because if I did I will be haunted by my dead and murderous best friend.
"Is that all? You can't sleep, so you drink."
"You don't know anything!" I exclaim finishing off my second glass.
"Then tell me." And he sits at the table with me. I stare at his bright blue eyes as I pour myself another glass.
"Well, if you haven't noticed all I do is read, cry and sleep."
"I have noticed Orianna and it really isn't healthy"
"Then please tell me what is! Because I don't think losing your best friend to Fienfyre is on a to do list for every teenager." I take a big gulp of the bitter wine and will myself not to let the tears I am holding in go.
"Of course it isn't normal, and drinking three glasses of wine isn't either."
"What is your point Uncle Adrian?" I sometimes, butmy glass again.
"How the hell are you not drunk?" Uncle Adrian exclaims watching me in amazement as I start sipping my 4th glass.
"Wizards and witches have stronger blood because of the magic in our veins. It takes more alcohol to affect our 'inhibitions'. " I say.
"Oh. So you want to be a healer?"
"I did think of becoming one, but,"
"But..."
"I love magical creatures! They are so fascinating. I mean, they can be dangerous sometimes, but once you get passed it they are truly wonderful. " I say, but start blushing immediately after. "Mother would have a heart attack if I told her I want to be a Magizoologist though," I sigh.
"Well, Alicia shouldn't be dictating your life-"
"I'm not being dictated!" I don't like that word. It makes me feel weak or oppressed. "And anyway, she can't do any dictating behind the Azkaban bars." There is silence when both of us are sipping our wines eyeing each other.
I sigh. "So how was your childhood like with my devil of a father?"
"Really good actually," he smiles, "until Atticus and Edmund started to be poisoned by the whole pure blood thing."
"Was that before or after he met my mother?"
"Hmm, same time I think. Your mother was a looker then, no wonder your dad was smitten." I could see what he was saying. Behind the stern looks and acid tongue, my mother was quite beautiful. Sometimes, I wonder how my beautiful mother turned so ugly inside.
"You look like her you know."
What! No, I don't!" I feel almost offended to be told something like that. I don't look nothing like that psycho witch. "I only look like her if I go like. This," I take a deep breath, close my eyes and try to imagine my mother's face and features. By the audible gasp I hear, I know my morphing has worked. I open my eyes and smirk at Uncle Adrian gobsmacked expression. "And I, " I say shaking off my morph, "do not look like that."
"Okay, maybe not in the looks category, but in the sparkle in your eyes"
"The sparkle in my eyes," I scoff.
"Yeah, when Atticus use to bring her back home over the summer holidays, she had a sparkle in her eyes. You know life. " He says rather dreamily.
"Uncle Adrian, did you have a crush on my mother?"
"Maybe, but that lasted for like ten minutes before she disregarded me because I was a squib. Just don't lose that sparkle Orianna." I move uncomfortably under his gaze.
"So, go on. Tell me all about your escapades at muggle school, some drama, your first kisses-"
"Hey, just because I'm letting you get drunk on wine, doesn't mean you can dive into my sex life!" I blush so deeply, that the ends of my raven hair turn pink.
"I wasn't talking about your sex life! Just about your crushes and all" my voice is unnaturally high, which mean the alcohol is settling in.
"I didn't really have crushes. My muggle school was an all boys one."
"Oh, I forgot you were a squib for a second" I say. I quickly cover my mouth like a slug is about to come out. My thoughts are coming out as speech.
"Hahahaha, it must be nice being a witch. It seems like I'm more muggle than squib now anyway."
"Aren't they the same? They are both non magical people."
"You would think that, but being a squib brings shame and disgrace to your family, while muggles seem more accepting." He says slowly sipping the last of his wine. "Mother wasn't ashamed though, loved me like I was a wizard. Even read me some muggle stories like-"
"Cinderella!" I interrupt. It's Uncle Adrian's time to blush.
"Yeah, well, I never really liked that one."
"Grandmother said you loved it."
"Well, mother lies." He says back with a grin, but my one drops. "Grandmother does lie." I say in a monotone.
"Orianna, Selena didn't-"
"But she did! She lied about my mother, your brothers. She knew about that bloody scandal. She ended up dead because of it!"
"Enough!" I realise that me and Uncle Adrian are both standing. "Enough Orianna." He says. I take deep breaths, but it doesn't help me. Grandmother was dead and it was because of my wretched family. How could he try to defend them? I finish the rest of my wine in one swallow and head back to the fridge.
I reach out for the tall white glass bottle now. "I don't think you should drink that. It's vodka. And it's Elizabeth's funeral tomorrow-"
"Do you think I'm stupid? I know it's Eli's funeral," my voice catches in my throat. I swallow. "Don't worry, I'm witch remember?" I sneer. I pick out one of his shorter glasses and stomp upstairs.
Now in the sanctuary of my small bedroom, I fill up the glass and swallow the vodka in one gulp. For Eli. I fill it up again and repeat my actions. For grandmother. My vision is already blurry and I start swaying dangerously. But I piece myself together for one more shot. For me. That is the last thought I think before successfully collapsing on my bed and dropping the glass with a ear splitting smash.
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