Post by Lottie McCartney on May 21, 2006 7:27:04 GMT -5
Charlotte McCartney had made many improvements since Forgoil had chosen to let her off the hook, and Roan had lost her memory, for what seemed like forever. The Hufflepuff had done a little better in classes, had attended Quidditch practises as normal, and generally seemed to be getting back to normal.
But there was one thing that still hadn't changed. Her general dislike of the library. So, one afternoon, when she had been sent down to the book filled room to do some silent research after the smallest comment ever in Transfiguration (it seemed the Professor still wasn't over the first lesson) Charlotte's temper had begun to flare once again. She never had liked that Professor, or the subject in general.
And never ever would she enjoy silent research.
Shuffling through the library to find the Transfiguration section, Charlotte's brown eyes scanned all the titles until she found the one the Professor had been talking about, and then picked up a few more just for good measure and maybe a few extra house points along the way.
Shuffling towards the back of the library, Charlotte set the books down on a table and rolled up her sleeves. It wasn't until then she remembered the Muggle lighter she had hidden there that morning to play with if she got bored, and to find an easier way to light the couldren fire in Potions. The stupid wand pattern movements were something she rarely got right, apart from that one time in DADA with the birds.
For anyone who knew Charlotte McCartney, and had seen the quick movement of suddenly bright eyes between the books and the lighter, they would know trouble was afoot. And revenge, in a way, on the Transfiguration teacher. "What a shame he won't be able to send anyone else down here to do stupid silent research from these stupid books again," she scowled, flicking the lighter on. It really was amazing what you could find in the more shady areas of Drakborough.
Putting a silencing charm on the book, Charlotte looked over at the fireplace near where she was sat.
It was too perfect.
Moving to sit beside the fireplace, Charlotte began ripping out the silenced pages, setting fire to them with the lighter, and then throwing them into the fireplace. Watching them burn, and the smoke from the poor poor pages swirling up the chimney gave the brunette girl a sort of satisfaction, and with each now burning page, her eyes grew brighter and brighter and brighter.
Rip, burn, ash.
But there was one thing that still hadn't changed. Her general dislike of the library. So, one afternoon, when she had been sent down to the book filled room to do some silent research after the smallest comment ever in Transfiguration (it seemed the Professor still wasn't over the first lesson) Charlotte's temper had begun to flare once again. She never had liked that Professor, or the subject in general.
And never ever would she enjoy silent research.
Shuffling through the library to find the Transfiguration section, Charlotte's brown eyes scanned all the titles until she found the one the Professor had been talking about, and then picked up a few more just for good measure and maybe a few extra house points along the way.
Shuffling towards the back of the library, Charlotte set the books down on a table and rolled up her sleeves. It wasn't until then she remembered the Muggle lighter she had hidden there that morning to play with if she got bored, and to find an easier way to light the couldren fire in Potions. The stupid wand pattern movements were something she rarely got right, apart from that one time in DADA with the birds.
For anyone who knew Charlotte McCartney, and had seen the quick movement of suddenly bright eyes between the books and the lighter, they would know trouble was afoot. And revenge, in a way, on the Transfiguration teacher. "What a shame he won't be able to send anyone else down here to do stupid silent research from these stupid books again," she scowled, flicking the lighter on. It really was amazing what you could find in the more shady areas of Drakborough.
Putting a silencing charm on the book, Charlotte looked over at the fireplace near where she was sat.
It was too perfect.
Moving to sit beside the fireplace, Charlotte began ripping out the silenced pages, setting fire to them with the lighter, and then throwing them into the fireplace. Watching them burn, and the smoke from the poor poor pages swirling up the chimney gave the brunette girl a sort of satisfaction, and with each now burning page, her eyes grew brighter and brighter and brighter.
Rip, burn, ash.