"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...
Happy Thanksgiving to all those that celebrate it, and to those that don't happy not Thanksgiving to you!
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Doris
Blaise in his twelve years of life had never been in the muggle town of Little Ivy and he had hoped to keep it that way. But now as he leered amongst the muggles, he began to despise his wretched stepfather and that stupid letter more than ever.
"You see that marbling Blaise? This is the finest steak money can buy-" He mocked "-It is the greatest disgrace to the wizarding- nay - the entire world that you refuse to eat it."
He scoffed.
His step-father was a right ole idiot. He only discussed the finerys of meat and nothing else, which, of course, led Blaise to his new found vegetarianism. It gave him immense joy to see his stepfather's disgust at his refusal to eat the finest meat ever produced.
"What an oaf," murmured Blaise, "I hope my mother does away with him soon."
Even as he said, Blaise knew it wasn't true. His mind flickered to the last breaths of father number three- his red face and teary eyes. He remembered the last breath he heaved before all movement cut from his body and he fell from his chair.
Blaise shivered and wrapped his robes tighter around himself. Why did his cursed mother have to kill them when Blaise was home by himself? He had hardly known what to do! He was six for heaven sakes! And tonight! He really thought it would happen again tonight! When his mother left for Paris and his step father choked!
His red face. His bulging, beady eyes. The helplessness as you watch someone die before you.
Blaise trembled and a muggle child cried out.
He woke from his stupor. A burst of wind roared through the street knocking a two year old to the ground and sending a stroller down the road.
Blaise cursed under his breath. He was twelve. He really ought to have his magic under control by now and besides his stepfather isn't dead. He coughed that piece of thousand Galleon beef right up.
Blaise took a deep breath, smoothed his robes, and passed by the fallen child then he stalked towards the address that the letter had.
He snorted. What a ridiculous letter from a ridiculous girl! He remembered it well-
Hello Blaze
I hope you are having the most fantastic day! My condolences that I am writing you this letter. However, I must implore you of what being a muggle born witch intels. There seems to be more to it than I am aware.
Please owl me back or find me at 56 Yew St., Little Ivy
