Soooooooo, summer here is coming to a close...I know it being summer I should have been uploading a lot more, but I was working nonstop at the stables near my house from 7 til 4, and by then I was just wiped out. Then there was vacation down south (if you haven't been to New Orleans, don't go down Bourbon Street, not even in the day. It smells like vomit and crap and beer and sewers all rolled up into one! However, the houses not a block away are very nice, if anyone from NO is reading this...) and the much awaited meeting of the conservative southern relatives...yay...
Hope you guys had a more exciting summer than I did.
Also, my neighbor's just put down their dog... :(
I don't know how that last note was related, but it is now.
Dislaimer: I-ay o-day OT-Nay wn-oay he-tay arry-Hay otter-Pay eries-Say!
Jacob audibly gulped, as Bellatrix turned her toothy smile towards him, and he could feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead, though the temperature in the marbled hall was cool. She obviously didn't sense his discomfort, for she started off down the long hallway, the slight heels of her worn black boots making a sharp 'click clack' on the marble floors. Jacob vaguely noted to himself how the sound of it seemed to wrap up Bellatrix's entire being, the precision in the evenness of the steps, the fast gait, and the sharp tone all screamed fierce determination, and ultimately, danger for whatever her point of determination was.
Jacob blinked away his studying's of Bellatrix's walking habits, and set off quickly after her, making sure that Hermione was floating directly in front of his face, and not bumping into any walls or the numerous low hanging chandeliers that adorned the ceiling.
As she walked, she called back over her shoulder, "You might think about having one of those house elves of yours clean up that vase. Someone might get hurt."
The leery emphasis placed on the last word made Jacob's skin crawl, and he nodded wordlessly, and managed out a weak, "Um, yeah, er, of course."
The clicking of the heels came to an abrupt stop at his stuttering, and Bellatrix half-turned and gave him an odd stare over her shoulder. Jacob internally grimaced, avoiding her stare. 'Malfoy's don't stutter, idiot!' He coughed briefly into his elbow, still looking at the ground, and scowled.
"Just something in my throat." He cleared his throat, as if to further enunciate his point, and Bellatrix raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him, before turning back around. The ominous clicking resumed. Kicking himself for acting so out of character, Jacob followed Bellatrix down the long hallway.
The low hanging chandeliers provided a dim light, fueled by eternal candles rather than the mysterious light source in the larger rooms-most likely cause by an adaptation of the spell 'Lumos Maxima'-or natural light. All of the windows in the house had been shut and bolted, and the stiffness of the locks had shown that they had not been opened in a very long time, if at all.
The flickering of the tiny flames cast an all around eery feeling to the place, and more than once did Jacob find himself whipping his head around frantically at his own wavering shadow.
The walls were embellished with portraits of the dark wizards and witches that made up the Malfoy Bloodline. The frames had been recently dusted, but the paintings inside held pictures of elderly, brooding, and condescending people, who simply glared at Jacob as he passed. Their eyes followed him, giving him the impression that they could see right through him, and leaving him feeling very uncomfortable and naked in front of them. Unnerved, he wondered if this was what Malfoy came home to every night.
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The Beauty of the Beast [Dramione]
أدب الهواةThe Second Wizarding War is over. Voldemort, dead. So why then do Harry and Hermione find themselves fleeing for their lives? The Death Eaters have taken control of the government, and Harry and Hermione are forced into hiding. That is, until Hermio...