Sunday, April 27, 2008
Continue Story (I copy and paste from internet) - Chapter 3 - 'SHE'S SO COLD'
CHAPTER 3
'Yes?' He asked quietly, and Draco walked forwards, closing the door behind himself.
'Who is she?' Draco questioned, observing the obviously alcoholic drink in his Father's hand.
'You already know that: Her name is Clea Harvey-'
'No. Who is she? Where is she from? Why is she here? What school did she go to? Who are her parents?' Draco asked poitnedly, frowning at his Father - why was he being kept in the dark here?
'Those things are irrelevant. Does she have everything she needs? Go and-'
'I'm not going anywhere until you tell me exactly-'
'Excuse me?' Lucius' tone had dropped several degrees and he was now glaring at his son, his glass gripped with both hands. 'You dare speak to me like that? You're own Father? You were not brought up behave like that; you will do as asked and you will do so immediately. Leave. This. Room.' Draco returned his Father's glare, but knew better than to backtalk anymore, so instead he turned on his heel and took off out of the room, being especially careful to slam the door shut as forcefully as possible on his way out. He walked straight ahead in the empty corridor, and then turned to glance back over his shoulder, muttering under his breath as he did so. Turning back, he gasped and stopped dead. Where there had been nothing before, Clea now stood perfectly still, her head tilted to one side, her hair blowing gently in a none-existant breeze. Her hands were clasped together in front of her, and she had a strangely sad smile on her face.
'I'm assuming the arguments are over me?' She asked smoothly, her expression not changing. Draco hesitated.
'We weren't arguing. I was just-'
'It's the same everywhere.' Clea's smile faded from her face after she gave a quiet laugh.
'What do you mean?' Draco frowned, puzzled.
'I mean where ever I go I cause arguments. No wonder...' She trailed away, and then plastered a smile back on her face. 'Sorry if I startled you; I didn't mean to. I just heard raised voices and thought I would come and see what was happening. Care to show me the gardens?'
It had taken Draco but utter surprise; the abrupt change of subject, but he just stared at her for a moment, before nodding and walking towards her. He wondered what she had been about to say, the words playing over and over in his mind. Where ever I go I cause arguments... How many places had she been to? Two, three, four? And where were her parents? No wonder... No wonder what? What had been no wonder? Everything about this girl confused him, not to mention the fact that she seemed to have a sort of... other wordly air about her; and no, he didn't mean in looks, he meant in... spirit, almost. The way she looked perfectly serene, and perfectly calm. Most people - most guests, would be mortified if they thought they were causing disruptions amongst their host family... but Clea had just smiled, and changed the subject. And yes, Draco had noticed it; her hair whipping slowly over her shoulders, even though there was no breeze in the corridor. What was it about this girl that made her seem so... out of this world? There was something different about her, something special, something that hinted at absolute power, power greater than any ever discovered... and then she would smile. It made her look plain again.
Clea turned when Draco reached her and began walking with him, unsure of the way so letting him walk slightly ahead. Draco pulled his mind from it's buzzing thoughts and turned to briefly smile at Clea, who returned the gesture, and caught up with him so as she walked level. She swivelled her eyes about the hallway they were walking down, taking in every aspect.
'You have a very beautiful home, Draco.' Clea complimented; and again, the use of his name made his gaze jump to hers, and he slowed but didn't stop walking.
'Thankyou. What about your home? What's it like?' Draco tried, and a sly smile poured onto Clea's face.
'A smart try. But I've never really had a home.' Her answer stunned Draco, and he stared at her as they walked.
'Never had a... what do you mean?' He gaped, and Clea laughed a tinkling sound.
'I mean I've never been in one place long enough to really call it home.' She replied patiently. 'What is... Hogwarts like?' Draco began walking at a normal speed again, and Clea quickened her pace to keep up.
'It's okay. It's a huge castle, and the students are divided into four houses: Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor.' Draco spat the word 'Gryffindor' as if he had been forced to say it. Clea noticed this and raised an eyebrow pointedly, but Draco didn't see it. 'Albus Dumbledore is Headmaster - a crazy idiot who'll soon be out of a job, I expect. Harry Potter-'
'Attends Hogwarts?' Clea gasped, instantly intrigued. Draco turned to her with a frown.
'Unfortunately, yes. Gryffindor, seventh year, like us. He has a Mudblood friend called Hermione Granger, and then a Blood Traitor: Ron Weasel - I mean Weasley. Stay away from them; it's the best advice I can give you. They're attention seeking lunatics who think they're all that; well, maybe Potter is, but the other two; they just latch on for the ride. Anyway-'
'Which house do you expect I'll be in?' Clea interrupted; yet it still seemed polite. Draco considered this, hoping she would be in Slytherin with himself.
'Which house were your parents in?' He asked, gazing over at her.
'I'm not sure.' She lied; it was one of the few things she knew about her Father, at least.
'Well it depends. I expect Slytherin... simply because you have... well, the Dark Mark, and they're not going to put you in Gryffindor with that, are they? I wouldn't think so, anyway. And Hufflepuff is for... losers, basically. Ravenclaw... are you particularly clever? What grades do you achieve?' Draco asked as he pulled open the main front door and stepped to the side to let Clea out into the warm sunshine.
'Not that great: normally E's.' She replied with a shrug.
'Then I expect you'll be a Slytherin, like me. But apparently you get to choose if you're not all that sure: I didn't, because... well, it's in my blood to be a Slytherin. But I hear Potter got a choice; Slytherin or Gryffindor. More fool him he picked Gryffindor.' Draco shrugged, as he and Clea began walking down the gravel stretch that lead to the water fountain.
# posted by Sek Koon @ 8:44 AM 
