Open RP
I leave Dumbledore's office, feeling odd. I'm upset and I'm angry, but I'm also very... sad. I'm not used to being sad. I don't even remember the last time I cried. It was before I started school. Maybe when Dru stole my favorite axe and used it to chop down my apple tree. That wasn't very nice of her. But I was only five or six at the time.
No one pays me much attention as I pass through the halls. I'm not even aware of where I'm going, really. I ignore the way they seem to part for me, my eyes unfocused as I stumble along. I feel almost drunk. This is too surreal. My parents are dead. Dead because of some fucking Aurors that decided they were a threat.
Fucking Aurors.
My leg hits the bleachers on the Quidditch field and automatically I start to climb them. I don't stop until I'm at the top, looking straight out at the goals. I remember just a few hours ago when I only had to think about school, Quidditch, and Lucius. Now I'm trying to remember what the last thing I said to my parents was. It was over the Christmas holiday. I had my mother's cookies. I think I told her I loved her. I hope I did.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and survey the town of Hogsmeade in the distance. So many people there, just going about their daily routine. It's almost lunchtime, and I'm sure the Three Broomsticks is full. The Great Hall will be filling up with loud, obnoxious, chattering imbeciles, carrying on about their day. I'm glad for the peace and quiet of outside. Before I know it, my hands are covering my face, and I'm crying silently.
I will have my revenge.
No one pays me much attention as I pass through the halls. I'm not even aware of where I'm going, really. I ignore the way they seem to part for me, my eyes unfocused as I stumble along. I feel almost drunk. This is too surreal. My parents are dead. Dead because of some fucking Aurors that decided they were a threat.
Fucking Aurors.
My leg hits the bleachers on the Quidditch field and automatically I start to climb them. I don't stop until I'm at the top, looking straight out at the goals. I remember just a few hours ago when I only had to think about school, Quidditch, and Lucius. Now I'm trying to remember what the last thing I said to my parents was. It was over the Christmas holiday. I had my mother's cookies. I think I told her I loved her. I hope I did.
Leaning forward, I rest my elbows on my knees and survey the town of Hogsmeade in the distance. So many people there, just going about their daily routine. It's almost lunchtime, and I'm sure the Three Broomsticks is full. The Great Hall will be filling up with loud, obnoxious, chattering imbeciles, carrying on about their day. I'm glad for the peace and quiet of outside. Before I know it, my hands are covering my face, and I'm crying silently.
I will have my revenge.