Ruthless : d.malfoy [ REWRITING ]

PART 11

 WITH the descent of Persephone to the realms of the Underworld , winter had spread it's wings like a dove at flight - creeping up on the moors of Scotland like a snake at prey. The wind whipped at their faces mercilessly , covering all with a rush of cold and leaving prickly skins in their wake. The castle looming in the distance , perched like a jewel upon a scepter of peridot , was covered in a dense layer of fog - like a mythical place enshrouded in secrets.

Evanna stood with her hands in the pockets of the thin blue jacket she wore above her swimsuit - alongside other champions. Cedric Diggory stood first , eyes trained on the waters rippling below  the wooden deck - while both Fleur and Krum were coversing in hushed voices with Madame Maxime and Igor Karkaroff respectively. Harry's tardiness had emerged victorious for the umpteenth time , and the Gryffindor was late yet again.

Her azure eyes drifted from the murky waters of the Black Lake - and towards the emerald mountains that ringed the body of water. Rectangular stalls rose from the wooden docks , reaching upwards with students and spectators lined within. With the sky above overcast , and the sea of students all dressed in dull blacks , greys and whites , there was hardly any colour in the atmosphere other than those of the colourful banners that ruffled in the air.

Pulling out her wand , Evanna whispered in the softest of voices - "Spiritus Incremento Aquatilium" - her voice evaporating into the thin air as a trail of mist was left in her wake.

It was a rare breathing enhancement charm Draco and her had come across during a nightly expedition , inside a book tucked safely away in a dingy corner of the library. Time had left it's imprints upon the ancient , leather-bound book , it's pages loose and frayed at the ends , the parchment spotted and yellow.

After the enchantment seeped into her pores , little by little increasing her ability to breathe - Evanna's eyes drifted towards the cheering crowd - scanning the crowd for a familiar platinum blonde. Seeing no other person with such peculiarly beautiful hair , she focused her eyes onto the frayed end of her jacket sleeve.

 A commotion followed to her left , and she tilted her head to find a red-faced Harry , his fingers fumbling as he fixed his glasses , rushing towards them. She observed as he quickly put a bundle of green , wiry leaves into his mouth - an expression of disgust knitting onto his features.

Gillyweed. A smart choice , smart enough for Evanna to decide that Harry had not come up with it. Possibly , it was Neville Longbottom - the kind Gryffindor's helpful nature and inclination for Herbology being the key factors. Or , it was actually the one who had given Neville the book in which he read about the plant ( in this case , Evanna was well aware who it was ).

Her irises looked out into the distance once again , eyeing the bleak nature and the drooping leaves that swayed in the wind -the winter that prevailed everywhere , sucking the soul and life out of all things that once imparted joy.