"You look like a marble statue. You always do. You become the pinnacle of human beauty in anger, joy, and... grief."
Tarra Williams never thought that asking a little boy to play would change her life...
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A rough sketch of Miss. Helen Rough
Darkness beat the last yellows of the day away and strong gusts flung dark purple clouds across the sky. Tarra Williams raced across the Quidditch pitch with a broomstick in hand. It knocked against her knees. She stumbled and slammed into the grass. Her hands slipped and her knees sunk into the mud. She cursed as she stood and brushed the loose strand of her blonde hair behind her ear, leaving dirt on her high cheekbones.
She shoved the broom back in place in the dark shed when a flash illuminated it. Tarra ground her teeth and said,
"What do you want Creevey?"
She glared at her classmate. He lowered his camera and the small mousy boy gulped.
"I swear I didn't get you in the picture! I just took it of the broomsticks."
"Whatever," said Tarra.
Her shoulders slumped and she rubbed her temples, smearing more mud across her face. She finished hanging the broom up and left the shed.
"Are... are you alright?" asked Colin, "You look a little pale... and tired."
Tarra tensed at what he said and sent another glare. She slammed the wooden doors shut and leaned her forehead against it. Exhaustion overtook her but she pushed herself away.
Her sharp green eyes stared into Creevey.
"I'm fine. Besides, I should be the one asking. Have you gone mental, wandering the grounds by yourself and at nearly dark too? You're just clamoring to be the heir's next victim."
She strode towards the castle and Collin nipped at her heels. They both braced themselves against the wind as it rippled across the grass. Their robes flung out from them.
"You're out here by yourself and I didn't think I would be alone. I overheard someone saying Harry was out on the grounds."
"I am not a muggle born Colin. I have nothing to - What was that?" asked Tarra as she froze. She grasped her wand. Her knuckles turned white and her knees trembled.
"What?" asked Colin.
He tensed beside her.
"I saw something behind that tree."
They stared into the rustling willow when two robbed figures jumped out from behind it. Colin shrieked and fell backward.
Tarra shouted the first spell that came to mind, "Verdimillious!"
Green sparks flew from her wand. It illuminated the students' crude faces beneath their hoods. The first had an ugly, busted nose, and buck like teeth. He sneered at them. The second had a handsome straight nose and defined jawline. A wicked light gleamed in his eyes as he waved his wand. The sparks disappeared and their features returned to darkness, but their faces remained cemented in Tarra's mind.
