Angelina surveys the children lined up in front of her, her hands firmly on her hips. There's a lot of looking at the ground and shuffling of feet from them as they avoid her gaze.

"All right, which one of you has it?"

No answer.

"One of you has the Snitch and we're not going anywhere until I get it back. And if I don't get it back you'll all be in ( Read more... )

October 25th. Angelina's 23rd birthday. She didn't really want to make a fuss about it. Since her parents died, she hasn't really felt like celebrating things like birthdays. But the duty of friends is, apparently, to make one celebrate these occasions whether they wish to or not, which is how Angie found herself at her own surprise birthday party ( Read more... )

Outside the confines of  the bar proper, Angelina is flying over the lake. Every now and then she raises a hand and wipes it over her eyes. In the attacks yesterday, her parents were murdered by the Death Eaters. There were no bodies, but the amount of blood that was spilled in their home... there is no doubt in anyones mind that they are dead.

( Read more... )

There's nothing particularly remarkable about the door. Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, they're just the ones big enough to have names; there's any number of winding back streets the Muggle inhabitants of London haven't the faintest clue about. The place is probably packed reasonably full, though from the outside you'd never know; just a peeling ( Read more... )

The door opens into the living room of her small flat. It's dark untill she flicks her wand and a dozen or so candles burst into flame around the room, lighting the room with a soft glow. At the same time a record player in the corner starts playing soft music. Theres even a nice bottle of wine in a bucket of ice charmed not to melt and two glasses ( Read more... )

1: Romance novels. Not the dirty kind like a certain skull she knows, the really sappy kind where someone dies at the end.

2: Strawberries. Her favourite fruit. With cream and sugar, or chocolate coated. Doesn't matter which, she loves em all the same.

3: Going commando. She finds it liberating, both physically and mentaly. (FYI, I have no idea ( Read more... )

Angelina is in her room, alone, when the Other is defeated. As the curse ends, and she takes back control of her own mind, it's as if a fog that has been clouding her senses is lifted. Theres a momentary confusion as she puts together the events of the past two weeks. Then comes the awful, sinking feeling as she remembers the horrible things she's ( Read more... )

Angelina stares down at the piece of parchment in front of her while she twirls her quill in her fingers. So far the parchment is blank except for one four letter word at the top: 'Fred.' There are several screwed up attempts covering her desk. Some are angry, some just sound like she's a clingy school girl. Some she even managed to finish before ( Read more... )

Angelina is sitting cross-legged on her bed, surrounded by magical photographs from her years at Hogwarts. She doesn't know why she had the urge to sort through her old photographs; it was just something she felt needed to be done.

There are four distinct piles at the moment, and counting. Here's one from her first Quidditch match; and here, one ( Read more... )