Phoebe Ellory, a talented pureblood witch, grapples with her burgeoning powers and the internal conflict between light and dark. As she navigates her studies, Phoebe's life takes a turn when she discovers her late mother's unfinished research on the...
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Phoebe
I slammed the Witch Weekly on the table during breakfast. I couldn't bring myself to continue reading the fabrications Rita Skeeter published on my nonexistent love life. 'Romance or Reprisal?' Even the title of the story made me grimace.
"What's the matter, little swan?" Nana glanced over as she placed morning sweets in front of me.
"Cancel our subscription to Witch Weekly, Nana." I spotted the Daily Prophet right under it. "And discard the rest please."
I had enough of vile and gossip.
Nana reached for the articles and skimmed through the fallacies that dishonored my name and character. Her aging face contorted in confusion then a frown.
"Who would say such things?" Rita Skeeter surprisingly kept her source anonymous.
I scoffed lightly at the question. Who else? It didn't take a genius to figure out who had pitched in to fill in the misleading details. Pansy Parkinson was known to give the phony journalist information about Harry Potter and his friends, and pretty much anything inside the walls of Hogwarts. I wouldn't put this little stunt past her.
"Doesn't matter." I tried to keep my annoyance in check. Wouldn't be fair to get my frustrations out on Nana. "None of it is true."
"Of course not." Nana mustered a comforting smile then scurried away to dispose of them.
Just as she left, Owlette raced in, dropping correspondence on the table. My name was written on the front in Kirsi's writing. I abruptly got up from my seat and decided I couldn't eat any more food this morning. I took Kirsi's letter outside. A change of scenery was needed for my irked feelings.
The snow crunched beneath my boots as I walked close to the blanketed trees. The cold was not nearly as uncomfortable as in the night. I ripped open the envelope that safely wrapped Kirsi's message.
The ones I received before weren't so welcoming and I expected to be lectured again. I'd been the primary subject on certain tabloids recently, some that didn't portray me in the best light to some muggle and half-borns. By now every Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly reader thought of me as another pureblood elitist.
It didn't surprise me when my pen pal over the break started to question my morals. Especially after my unofficial and questionable involvement with Timothy Owens was brought to question. Speculations arose that I only wanted to anger my father by being with a muggle-born. As much as I wanted to anger Cygnus Ellory, I wouldn't use a muggle to get my point across. It was not my way. It took one look at me to anger him.
But Kirsi wouldn't be able to understand. She didn't know anything about me or my family. Only what she read in the newspaper. And frankly, it wasn't painting a good picture for me. It would be just a matter of time before students started to question why I wasn't sorted into Slytherin. They'd start to question my integrity.
