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Post by draco abraxas malfoy on Jul 21, 2011 4:44:42 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://www.photofurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/green_and_white_wallpaper.jpg); width: 345px; height: 265px; border:3px solid slategray; moz-radius: 1em 4em; border-radius: 1em 4em; opacity: 0.9;] "i'm just spiralling" There was nothing better than the feeling of flying. It was familar, unlike so much else out in this world, especially considering the fact that Draco had loved being able to fly through the air since the first time his five year old, slightly chubby, hands had illegally reached for one of the ornate brooms decorating the left side room of the manor. The feeling of the chill air pushing through his hair and forcing his body down against the hard wood, and the sheer speed that you could reach, all of it mixed together into something beautiful.
He knew that at Hogwarts, in his own time, more than one Gryffindor had sneered the slanderous words that he had only made it onto the team beacuse of his father's 'gift' of the brooms, rather than his talent in the air. While that may be true (because no worthwhile Slytherin team would look for the head of house's godchild to join a team where every other member was more than a head taller than him, simply to avoid getting into trouble if he had been hurt), but he had certainly remained on that team through more than a bribe. He'd had to work for that place, something which hadn't been easy. Especially when Potter could simply humilate him without bothering to try.
Those thoughts made him want to snarl angrily, though, and bad emotions were unwelcome when he was flying in the air over fifty feet above the surface of the green Quidditch pitch. He rolled instead, tucking his body tighter into the handle of the broom and spiralling up through the air until the wind and the rush made the bad thoughts about Potter and humiliation just fade away.
He couldn't believe that he hadn't taken the time to come out before now to fly on his own. For while Draco loved the game, loved to compete and to win, there was something spectacular about simply perfoming in the air, flying with a grace that only a decade of practise could give to a boy. Even without an audience, as audiences were never really anything he was aware of, grace was required. Grace and elegance, something which was always pushed to the side during any game in favour of the need to win. But now, when there was no one to compete with, he could simply fly. Shifting on the air currents, ducking and diving and rolling to his hearts content.
Sometimes there were good things about technically being alone in a world like this. Flying alone had always taken up as much of his summers as working in the Manor's potions lab had, and it was something that he was glad he did not have to throw away. For once, he didn't even have to care that his blonde hair was now fully windswept or that the apples of his cheeks were stained a light pink by the cold air. Not a care in the world now he was up high.
That was a vulgar muggle term, he thought though, so he swore not to repeat it again and instead rolled the broom over once more, the polished handle of his numbus two thousand and one glinting in the sunlight before he plummeted towards the ground, tucking close to his broom as the spiral became a dive and as his stomach was left quite a way behind.
The rush of free falling was also a pleasent one. Not like watching the ground speeding up towards him, however. Diving straight down towards the rapidly approaching ground enabled him to do that perfectly.
TAGGED: OPEN WORDS: 650 CLOTHES: click!NOTES: xP |
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Post by elvishbanana2 on Jul 21, 2011 13:36:05 GMT -5
| [atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, background-image:url(http://i54.tinypic.com/2vafwqd.jpg), border: solid #ffffff 5px; width: 400px; height: 500px;] Diana had no idea why she was in the Quidditch stands. Normally she wouldn’t have gone near the pitch- but instinct was guiding her in that direction. And with her disability, she relied on instinct more than most people imagined. Lifting the hem of her robes slightly as she walked to avoid any muddy patches, Diana strode through the grounds toward the pitch. She knew where it was- she’d been to the games before- but she disliked it. Her first (and only) flying lesson had ended in disaster on the pitch. She’d fallen nearly sixty feet from her broom, breaking her left wrist and three ribs when she’d hit the ground, as well as being bruised all over her body. Since then, she’d stayed as far from brooms as possible. But the Quidditch pitch had another problem as well. The crowds. During a match, the crowds would press in on every side of her, crushing her and making her feel lost and dizzy. The commentary was useful enough- she always knew what was happening. But the noise… Her hearing, as keen and sharp as an owl’s, was assaulted with hundreds of people, shouting and screaming in a horrible battering ram of sound. Since her first year, she’d avoided going to the pitch, even for games. But in the past year, she’d attended more of the games, not understanding the urge beyond a growing interest in Wizarding sports.
Diana mounted the stairs, her hand running over a banister. It was worn smooth by the thousands of other hands that had done the same- she smiled at the history. As she climbed higher, her calves began to burn pleasantly. Sunshine warmed her skin- she turned her face up to catch the light, smiling in spite of herself. A cool breeze pushed her hair back, carrying the scent of burning leaves with it; the essence of October. Diana breathed deeply, closing her eyes. For a moment she only stood, leaning on the banister and tilting her face toward the sky. Her thoughts turned from skepticism to joy. She could feel excitement bubbling in her veins, a sensation remnant of the thousands of suspenseful Quidditch matches that had taken place at the pitch.
Diana stepped forward, sitting on one of the benches and listening. Contrary to all of her other experiences with the stadium, it was quiet. She would have guessed that it was empty. Echoes traveled easily in the stands, lending her even more hearing than she had normally. Wind tossed her wavy hair back, making her feel as if she were flying. If she was honest with herself, she did wish she could fly. It sounded effortless, easy. She had listened to the Slytherin team talk about flying- they had the same enthusiasm she did when she spoke about her piano-playing. Diana wished she could experience what made them so excited- but she didn’t dare, for the memory of a broken wrist and three cracked ribs. She opened her eyes again, though there was little difference.
Except…
Diana squinted. A vague silvery shape floated around the pitch- another of the odd people with colorful auras, the only ones she could ever see in the darkness. This one, however, looked familiar. She cast her mind about wildly, thinking about where she had seen silver before. The shape on the pitch darted and wove about gracefully, and even without sight, she could tell they were a skilled flier. As she looked closer, she could make out highlights and tints of royal blue and forest green- an odd combination merely for the fact that it was a combination, instead of a solid. Diana bit her lip, thinking hard. She’d spoken to the person before, she was certain of it. She thought briefly of the mutual common room, and from there it took only a second for her to connect the silver shape with a name and a voice. Her eyes widened. Was it worth it to run? No- surely he would have seen her by now. She bit her lip, holding back a groan by the skin of her teeth.
Draco Malfoy.
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Post by draco abraxas malfoy on Jul 21, 2011 14:10:01 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://www.photofurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/green_and_white_wallpaper.jpg); width: 345px; height: 265px; border:3px solid slategray; moz-radius: 1em 4em; border-radius: 1em 4em; opacity: 0.9;] "i'm just spiralling" It was second nature to curl tighter around the broom as the ground rushed up to meet him. Wrapping his hands tighter around the polished handle, legs curling up beneath it, and molding his already lithe body tighter against the magical wood as he dived. Dived straight down, broom positioned at a right angle compared to the green surface that was spinning closer and closer to his relatively small body...
He pulled upwards sharply on the handle at the last second, jerking the broom out of the dive and rolling so that the back of his hair was close enough to skim the soft, slightly damp grass beneath him. And he laughed, a loud, light laugh as the rush of the dive and the near escape (purposeful, of course) caught up to him. Draco hadn't really laughed, not in such a light and free manner, since before his father had been arrested. There had been no occasion to and no time to take to the air.
And this moment, as he steadily started to climb into the air once more, slowing into a leisurely pace, he could not think of a single reason why he had let such a petty thing as time (which was evidently something that had a mind of its own nowadays) stand between him and such a euphoric feeling.
Someone was watching him.
It hit him suddenly, a sharp tickle at the back of his neck. Repeatedly jabbing at the skin beneath the locks of his white blonde hair, a feeling which sent a reflexively tense running through his body. In his recent experience (recent as in the summer before this year, at least), being aware that someone was watching him might just be a small enough precognition to get out of the way of a hex or a jinx.
But nothing came, and he came to a halt hovering beneath the height of the highest stands which surrounded the pitch (seeing as, apparantly, some things never did change), and turned his head, scanning his surroundings with narrowed grey eyes. A scan which was paused before it was fully completed though, after Draco caught sight of one person at least. A person who was, perhaps, the reason why his skin was shivering slightly. Not the cold, of course. He was not an idiot. Thermal charms were a simple answer to the problem of the cold wind when flying. Only an idiot was not aware of that.
The girl, for it was a girl, was familiar. Familiar enough to keep him still for a moment, tipping his head to the side in a way which just meant strands of white blonde hair fell over his eyes. What was her name... "Diane?" he guessed, nudging the broom slightly closely and infecting just the right amount of suprised curiousity into his voice. Because he remembered this girl. She had...admittedly, rather impressed him, with her words, but at the same time she had irritated him. That was not something easily forgiven, was it?
TAGGED: DIANA/OPEN WORDS: 739 CLOTHES: click! NOTES: <3 |
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Post by elvishbanana2 on Jul 21, 2011 16:51:38 GMT -5
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There was something mesmerizing about the way he moved, something incredible about the silvery blur racing around the pitch. The obvious grace and ease with which Draco handled the broom reminded her of a bird of prey. Her cloudy eyes followed him around the pitch, marveling at his talent. As the sunlight hit him, an interesting thing happened, and the highlights of color she had so enjoyed shone. The royal blue and dark green sparkled in the light. Diana’s eyes felt wet- she brushed away tears, moved by the beauty. Whenever people talk about beauty, they mention color- and with good reason, she thought. To a blind person, color was the most moving thing imaginable. Diana couldn’t keep her eyes off of his color.
He leveled out of the dive as easily as she would have shifted octaves, a clear, joyous laugh bursting from him. It almost made her smile, that such an elegant, high-class boy was still capable of such a sound. Diana hesitated for a brief moment, then brought her hands together, again and again. The dive had been very low- and he’d pulled up and out of it on such a hairpin curve that she was amazed he was able to stay on his broom. He drew closer, and her heart raced. Diana panicked. What was she going to do? She considered running before he got any closer, but a broom was infinitely faster than as blind girl. She would be more likely to trip and break her other wrist than she would to escape. Various swear words- both Wizarding and Muggle- flashed through her head.
Draco drew closer, his voice tinged with a hesitant curiosity. ”Diane?” he said. She flushed, heat rising to her face. She tried to keep the blush away, but if anything, it only got worse. Embarrassed, Diana opened her mouth to say something- she had no idea what, but she had to say something to him. A petrified squeak came out. She closed her mouth, swallowed, and tried again. ”Diana,” she corrected quietly, fighting to get the word out. ”You… you fly very well,” she told him, trying to mask the slight edge of wistfulness that she felt at not being able to fly herself. ”I haven’t flown since first year- broke my wrist and three ribs. But even I can tell you’re very good.” Diana flushed again. Was she babbling? Was she telling him too much? And above all- why did he affect her that way? The awful stammering, self-consciousness that seized her now was something she associated with him- no one else had managed to make her feel so nervous. Diana had considered the possibility of it being an odd spell- but nothing in her research had so much as hinted at hexes with the same effects.
Draco confused Diana to no end- his mere presence made her self-conscious and nervous. She felt on edge around him, like a rubber band about to snap. He made her conscious of all the best and worst parts of herself- though oddly enough, she never felt… disabled around him. She felt- peculiarly as it was- pretty. Her appearance wasn’t something she thought about often, past brushing her hair in the morning and using the makeup-application spell her sister had taught her. But around Draco, she was always more aware of herself, always more mindful about the way her hair fell past her shoulders, or how she sat. The effect was mystifying- Draco was both infuriating and somehow enthralling. Despite his arrogance, despite the condescension, despite the fact that she had no idea what she was doing around him, she couldn’t keep him out of her head. It was impossible to figure out.
Diana pushed her hair back behind her ears, wishing she could tell if her robes were free of the cat hair that some of her year-mates swore covered the common room. Standing up, she put her hands lightly on the worn wooden railing, leaving her cane balanced on the empty bench. ”Are you on the Quidditch team?” she asked, shocked to find the words slipping out of her mouth more easily.
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Post by draco abraxas malfoy on Jul 22, 2011 3:31:06 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://www.photofurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/green_and_white_wallpaper.jpg); width: 345px; height: 265px; border:3px solid slategray; moz-radius: 1em 4em; border-radius: 1em 4em; opacity: 0.9;] "i'm just spiralling" Yes, she certaily had been watching him, Draco straightened out in his mind as his broom gently drifted nearer, guided only by the faintest of touches to the hanle. Although, admittedly, if the blond boy had been slightly more concerned about any other fact than showing off in front of his audience (and perhaps checking to see whether his hair was too unsaveable), he would have asked out loud how that was possible. The girl was meant to be blind, after all. As it was though, that fact was not an important one, and not one that Draco remembered about her, and when he did remember...well. He did not know her lineage, but he did know that such physical ailments did run along some of the more interbred pureblood lines. She could come from one of those, perhaps.
Not that he much cared. She was a slytherin, and there was hardly anything more important than that.
Except she was a Slytherin who had stood up to him, argued back and added more humilation to the back of Potter's words...over situations which neither of them had any understanding for. It was horrible the fact that people kept thinking that they could get away with insulting his family just because they weren't here.
For one of them was here. Two in you counted his godfather. But he couldn't say anything about that...that message had been rather clear in the parting glare that had been shot his way. And he could dwell on that. Dwelling on the puzzle there was what had made him turn to the skies in the first place. Freedom.
"Oh, Diana. I do apologise," he said, smirking slightly at the girl. Why he had said that in such a polite tone, he was note entirely sure, but the words of the girl did sound rather...nice. As if someone could finally appreciate talent when they saw it. It would have only been ncer if she had actually seen it, rather than whatever spell she was using to help her along (if it was even that, which it might not be). And also...well, if anyone could be nice and sweet while actually plotting unwantable, horrible revenge, it was Draco. Unless the victim was one of the golden trio, irritatingly,
He turned his broom to the side, linking grey eyes curiously at the girl as she started to...stamer. Stammer and flush, actions which bore all the hallmarks of...well, what everyone should have around him, his arrogance pointed out. Here though, in this place, it was slightly new. He had missed being fawned over. Here is seemed that he was either cuddled or loathed. Some things he'd probably never understand.
But the affect was rather alluring. Being fawned over always was. "I know I am good," he said with yet another smirk, this one even noticeable in his voice, stretching out as he cam a stop hovering just before the railing (on his side, of course, but it would be purely idiotic to point that out...), "I have flown since I was old enough to sit on a broom without falling off. And yes, I played seeker. Before, I mean...Here...I haven't signed up yet. May I enquire as to what you are doing out here this fine day?"
TAGGED: DIANA/OPEN WORDS: 739 CLOTHES: click! NOTES: XP |
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Post by elvishbanana2 on Jul 22, 2011 11:53:37 GMT -5
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A memory flashed across her head, something to add to her embarrassment. She’d insulted him. And his family. Multiple times. She’d even sided with Gryffindors against him! She hadn’t gotten the impression it had fazed him overmuch- but that was the thing about Slytherins. One of the first things you learned as a Slytherin was how to hide what you were truly thinking or feeling. (Though for some reason, Diana had never been very good at it). She could have infuriated him, and Draco would never show it. Diana managed not to smack her forehead for her idiocy, but it was a close thing. Why, why why had she done that? Feeling like a fool- for even more reasons this time- Diana was sure her face was about to burst into flames. Why couldn’t he be blind as well? she wondered plaintively. Then he wouldn’t see my face. Oh, Merlin… I must look perfectly awful.
To her vast surprise, the tone of his voice was perfectly polite. Diana blinked. It couldn’t be so- not unless he had no memory of the incident in question. Even the most controlled of her House couldn’t help but give away a little when they spoke to her. Diana’s keen hearing, which helped to make up for her lack of sight, normally could pick up subtle nuances no one else noticed- a slight tremble, a hard edge. Draco, however, was impossible to read. It was baffling. Diana strained to catch something in his voice that could give away how he was truly feeling- and something astonishing happened.
She couldn’t.
”Oh, Diana. I do apologize,” he said, and she could pick up only a slight… pleased tone. Odd, she thought, but could attach no meaning to it. She shook her head a little. ”There’s nothing to apologize for,” she said lightly, fighting to keep the tremble out of her voice. She succeeded enough, perhaps, to fool anyone without her hearing- but Draco was a wild card. She had no way of knowing whether her façade was enough to fool him.
”I know I am good. I have flown since I was old enough to sit on a broom without falling off.” There we go! she thought, pleased that she was finally able to pick up something from his tone. There was a tint in his voice that she recognized as a smirk. Was he laughing at her? After a moment’s indignation, Diana conceded that it was only fair. She’d baited him, challenged him, and slighted his family, which was possibly the worst of the three, at least to any pure family. She was certain the last would have bothered him the most out of the three- you were not accepted into Slytherin House without having a pure bloodline, and Draco was the very essence of a Slytherin. So, she decided, Draco had earned a few smirks. ”And yes, I played seeker. Before, I mean… Here… I haven’t signed up yet.”
Diana nodded. ”You must have been very good. Our Seeker is in hospital wing right now- you should try out. With a flier as skilled as you, we’d win the Cup easily.” Draco drifted a little closer, floating so close that she could have stretched out a hand and touched him. The mere idea of doing such made her fading blush reappear. Diana smoothed out her robes, chuckling nervously at his last question. ”I… don’t quite know why I’m here this morning. I don’t often come to the pitch- though it was worth it for the sunshine. You couldn’t enjoy such fine weather in the castle, or even anywhere on the grounds. I suppose instinct bade me come here, however.”
That was when Diana took a gamble. For her, at least, it was a gesture that took more confidence than she felt. She smiled at him, her creamy white eyes going to the place on the silver blur where she thought his face might be. The blue and green highlights danced around the shape, reminding her of the way light moved underwater. Very, very few people had such clear forms. There were some who only had vague hints of a dark color, and there were a few who had brighter, cleaner shapes. But Diana rarely saw the sharp outline there was in Draco. She could make out his fingers, wrapped around the handle of his broomstick! It was beyond incredible. The farther away he got, the less easy it was for her to see him- but that silver color stayed, bright and liquidlike.
Diana kept the smile on her face- to her surprise, it felt more and more comfortable there. ”You make it seem so… so easy,” she commented wistfully. ”Pulling out of that dive must have been incredibly difficult, yet you executed it perfectly.”
Too late she realized how odd it must have sounded, for a blind girl to have seen him flying. He might have thought she was lying, or trying to butter him up with compliments, but every word was meant. Diana clamped her mouth shut- she’d babbled enough already. Why, she marveled, is everything so pox-rotted difficult around this boy? I can’t so much as open my mouth without second-guessing myself.
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Post by draco abraxas malfoy on Jul 22, 2011 12:22:30 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://www.photofurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/green_and_white_wallpaper.jpg); width: 345px; height: 265px; border:3px solid slategray; moz-radius: 1em 4em; border-radius: 1em 4em; opacity: 0.9;] "i'm just spiralling"
There's nothing to apologise for. That sentence in itself made Draco inwardly smirk (a smirk which could have replaced the other expression in his face if he had allowed it to as she couldn't exactly see anything). He doubted he would have gotten that response from the firey girl if he had shouted instead. Or acted snide and cutting, using sharp words instead of soft ones. The response would have been completely different.
More potentially damaging and less entertaining, for starters.
And her reaction to all of this..was certainly entertaining. Why she was reacting as she was was intriguing and rather beyond him (for she couldn't see him, so how would she know how beautiful he was?), but he would not turn it away just because of that. Not when the nervous air only grew with each syllable he uttered, filling the space between them and spreading outwards. Like smoke. It was a fact that he was both enjoying and filing away for later use.
Draco did not plan to be nice to her. A Malfoy always got revenge for slights against their family, as well as the aligning in a confrontating with the blood traitors over a member from their own house. Her actions were pretty much unforgiveable in his eyes (and the eyes of most pureblood, high standing wizarding families, as he had been taught), but they could be pushed to the side. Revenge should be sweet and savoured, which meant planning over time and not just rushing into things. That response was only available to Potter from him now, it seemed. But he would change that.
"Lucius did mention that the team was in the need for a seeker. I have been considering it since...and yes, I think I will. There is nothing which can match the thrill of flying and racing and competing." The only reason he hadn't really considered trying out before now was because Potter was a seeker again (of course, Saint Potter would have to be such), and knowing their history, Draco hadn't wanted to be humilated in front of his mother. Not until he had sorted everything else. Which he was doing...slowly.
He hadn't expected her to say that she came here every day. A blind girl could not fly, as much as they may hate it, and he was not discriminating. He was simply being realistic. To fly and to play, viewing the other players was required as much as viewing the balls. There wasn't a way around it. He shivered at the very thought of it, not being able to fly due to his situation rather than his own choice, he wouldn't be able to stand it.
Draco preened at her compliment, though she most likely wouldn't see it...but then frowned, turning his head to look right at her, meeting the glazed eyes which others might find disturbing. He didn't. Blood was everything, not disabilities, due to the fact that inbreeding often ended up with such things, and appearances also didn't matter. No one was as beautiful as his class of people, after all. But still...her comment was not right. "Thank you Diana...But how did you see it?"
TAGGED: DIANA/OPEN WORDS: 739 CLOTHES: click! NOTES: XP |
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Post by elvishbanana2 on Jul 22, 2011 17:09:25 GMT -5
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”Lucius did mention that the team was in the need for a seeker. I have been considering it since… and yes, I think I will. There is nothing which can match the thrill of flying and racing and competing,” said Draco. Diana nodded, unable to hide the brief longing that crossed her face. ”I can’t even begin to imagine that,” she said softly. Draco flew effortlessly- no experience she could have had, even with her vision, could have equaled his skill. She was grounded, stuck on her own two feet for the rest of her life. But the knowledge that she couldn’t ever hope to soar through the clouds still stung. ”It must be incredible, to go wherever you want. No limitations, no boundaries, but your own skill.”
Something nagged at the back of her mind- one of the ingredients in his speech. The smirk was still a part of his voice. Diana swallowed her anger at being mocked easily. Her pride, however, was another matter. She’d been brought up as well as he had- her blood was every drop as pure as his. For him to look down on her the way he did made her certain that, although she’d been rude, she’d also been right. He was arrogant, he was proud, and he was a hint too self-certain. But it wasn’t the personal insults that would have troubled him the most, if he’d had anything like a decent upbringing. It would have been the remarks about his father. Diana put herself in Draco’s shoes, wondering how she would feel if anyone had dared to insult her family. Her father’s side of the family was rich and influential- her mother’s side was descended from the old Russian line of royal wizards. Diana’s blood was as pure as it could possibly be- for anyone to suggest otherwise, not to mention to mock her family, would have been a grave mistake. Anger and indignation flooded her at the mere idea- she wouldn’t blame Draco if he hated her for her words. To side with the Gryffindors against a member of her own noble House was just adding insult to injury. Shameful, Diana blushed again.
Diana saw him shiver after she spoke, and wondered why. The silver rippled, though it didn’t stay so for long. Then, at her last comment, he sat up an inch or two straighter, obviously proud. She saw the silver form shift a little, and she guessed that he had turned his head toward her. A chill ran up her spine. He was looking at her. Not just looking, but looking, right into her face, right into her white eyes. She was surprised by that- not many people looked at her that way, too unsettled by her odd, unfocused eyes. His voice as he spoke to her was uncertain- Diana could hear confusion and wonder in his voice as well as a slight edge of suspicion. ”Thank you Diana… But how did you see it?”
She smiled. ”I’m not completely blind. Sometimes I can see light sources- and sometimes, very rarely, I can see colors. Around people, like auras- like flat shapes of color. My sister has one, and my uncle Dmitri. There are a few others as well- you’re one of them.” Feeling more confident now that they had ventured into familiar territory, Diana leaned on the railing, tilting her face up to catch the sun. ”Some auras are stronger- clearer- than others. For the weaker ones, it just looks like a fuzzy blur, almost transparent. The stronger ones look more solid, and the edges are sharper. Yours is one of the clearest I’ve ever seen. It’s silvery, but it has these tints of royal blue and dark green.” Diana bit her lip, barely holding back the last sentence. Even if she was talking about his aura, and not him, it was far too cheesy. Frankly, your aura is absolutely gorgeous.
Diana was anxious about his reaction- would he laugh her off, or would he think her strange? I can’t help what I am! she thought sadly. I don’t ask to see these auras- though if I lost them again, I might. It’s my only chance at being able to see people. She could only imagine Draco calling her a liar or calling her a freak, like so many others had. Only her uncle had ever taken more of an interest in the colors, but even he thought it was an odd result of the magic that had tainted her eyes. But what choice did she have? She could have lied, and told him she hadn’t seen it, or lied and said she wasn’t really blind. But Draco was a Slytherin- he wasn’t easily fooled, as the House dictated all members must be. She waited on tenterhooks for his reaction, praying that she wouldn’t lose a possible friend. She had already lost so many…
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Post by draco abraxas malfoy on Jul 22, 2011 18:14:43 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://www.photofurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/green_and_white_wallpaper.jpg); width: 345px; height: 265px; border:3px solid slategray; moz-radius: 1em 4em; border-radius: 1em 4em; opacity: 0.9;] "i'm just spiralling"
"No, I don't suppose you can," Draco murmered as if it were an afterthought. Not being able to fly...he had already thought about it, true, but actually being stuck in that situation...he would not have been able to cope. "But think of it this way, Hunter...Wouldn't it be worse if you could fly, and had flown, for years, and then had it suddenly stripped away from you? To never know what you are missing out on is a blessing compared to having it and then losing it."
And Draco was not just confining his words to broomsticks and quidditch. Royalty was an example. Money. Respect. A self assured position in the house of his fathers. People swooning over you and lapping up his every word... Draco knew what that was like. He didn't like it very much, having had all of that and then losing it.
He smiled softly, directing his gaze back to the sky and rolling her words over in his mind. It must be incredible, to go wherever you want. No limitations, no boundaries, but your own skill. "I've...never heard it described quite so...beautifully." He said softly. Her words rang with the truth. More than rang, perhaps. Sang with it. He just wished that he could simply fly away from here and end up back home, but that was impossible. If it was that easy, others would have done it already. Simply because he was brilliantly intelligent..it didn't mean he was the only one.
She was blushing again, he discovered upon lowering his eyes once more to look at her. Draco had no qualms about looking into her eyes...if anything, the milky white and grey colouration was rather fascinating. Startling, in a certain way. He could think of more beautiful eyes, eyes which were large and dark and usually belonged on the body of a male, but hers were certainly different. But wonderfully so.
Draco did have an eye for beautiful things. He'd inherited it from his mother.
Being able to see light sources...well, that was better than nothing. But then next part... "You can read and see aura's..." he said softly, tipping his head to the side, grey eyes meeting white once more. "I had a grandmother who could manage that. Or...great grandmother. Something along those lines. It wasn't much talked about," Mainly because the colours and readings and her older siblings forcing her to use her gift had eventually driven her insane.
Hearing about his own aura was certainly...interesting. "Do you happen to know what it means?" he voiced curiously, drifting slightly closer. He could always land, he supposed...but being supported in the air was better than walking on two feet. Plus, getting off the broom was not a task Draco had ever managed elegantly. But talking about her gift, or lack of eyesight, or whatever it was, was not something that could be considered socially acceptable. So he backed it up with a polite question on a completely different subject. "Are you looking forward to the Masquerade?"
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Post by elvishbanana2 on Jul 22, 2011 20:12:11 GMT -5
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Draco’s words were soft, as if he spoke to himself. There was a lack of sarcasm in his voice that surprised her, a sad tone that told her just how much flying meant to him. ”No, I don’t suppose you can. But think of it this way, Hunter… Wouldn’t it be worse if you could fly, and had flown, for years, and then had it suddenly stripped away from you? To never know what you are missing out on is a blessing compared to having it and then losing it.”
Diana smiled, her face lined with sadness. He was right. I lost so much when it happened, she thought ruefully. Color, light, getting around. Even the people- my sister is twenty-one- but in my head she’ll always be ten years old. It hurt so much to lose those things- could I have borne losing that freedom?
”I lost my music,” she said quietly. ”When I first lost my eyes, I couldn’t play anymore. It was horrible. But I already knew how to play. It took work- years and years of work- but I have the music back. It’s like…” she fished for words, unsure of how to put her ideas. ”It’s like your flying is to you- I can’t live without my music. So when I lost it, I found another way. I think that’s what you would do. When… when you lose something you love, you find a way to get it back somehow.”
Her wistful remark about the freedom flying provided seemed to awake something in him. Diana blinked, astonished that she’d managed to awaken such a reaction. ”I’ve… never heard it described quite so… beautifully..”
I meant every word, she thought. There was something so wonderful about the idea of flying, about the knowledge that if she could fly, she could go anywhere she wanted. Over the years Diana had longed for other things as well- to be able to drive, or to ride a bike, or travel. All of them were things she could not do. And after eleven years, Diana was finally beginning to understand why she longed for them- it wasn’t the thing itself, but what it represented. She was limited, bound by the constraints of her own body. But to be able to drive or fly or ride a bike… they had no limitations. She didn’t care about cars, or bicycles or brooms. Not really. What truly attracted her was the freedom.
Maybe that’s why my music is so important to me, she reflected, with a hint of bitterness in her head and heart. I can do whatever I want. And it’s something I can do, even without my vision. All that holds me back is the limitations of my own skills.
Her reverie was interrupted by another chill up her spine- Draco was looking at her again. ”You can read and see aura’s… I had a grandmother who could manage that. Or… great grandmother. Something along those lines. It wasn’t much talked about.” Diana’s initial reaction was one of joy. He hadn’t laughed, or called her a freak. And she wasn’t alone! Someone else had her… gift, her ability. But then his last sentence kicked in. It wasn’t much talked about. Was it a bad thing, then, to see the auras? Was it frowned upon to see colors? Diana panicked for a moment before a voice echoed in her head. She was startled to find that the voice was her own. I will not give up these colors. It’s all I have. I will not hide what I can do from the world. It may be… unorthodox… but my gift is a gift, not an oddity or a curse.
”Do you happen to know what it means?” asked Draco curiously, surprising her yet again. She never knew what to expect from the Malfoy boy. Moments after saying that his grandmother’s ability had rarely been discussed, he’d expressed even more of an interest in hers. Shaking her head and laughing a little in spite of herself, Diana answered him. ”I have no idea,” she said delightedly. ”I’ve read and researched until my fingers went numb, but I have no idea what it means, or why some people have it and others do not.”
She had considered everything- power levels, blood purity, even obvious things like House or where a person came from. Nothing fit. As far as she could tell, it was a random thing- but she knew there was a pattern, even if she couldn’t see it. Diana blinked, looking at Draco again. He’d floated even closer. She didn’t know whether to back away or not. Even if she’d wanted to, Diana suddenly found it difficult to move.
”Are you looking forward to the Masquerade?”
Or breathe.
Diana’s cheeks, which had settled back into their usual olive color, flared up again, though this time she was able to minimize the damage. Trying to act casual, Diana shrugged. ”I don’t know- I like dressing up, but my general plan for the Masquerade was to sit in a corner and read all night. And you?”
There was something about his words, something about his tone, that she found odd, but liked. After a moment of thinking on it, Diana realized that the pleasantness with which he had first addressed her was back- but with unexpected warmth. The smirk was gone. Confusion and the slightest hint of gladness warmed not only her face, but her heart.
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Post by draco abraxas malfoy on Jul 23, 2011 5:51:59 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://www.photofurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/green_and_white_wallpaper.jpg); width: 345px; height: 265px; border:3px solid slategray; moz-radius: 1em 4em; border-radius: 1em 4em; opacity: 0.9;] "i'm just spiralling" It was weird, feeling...sympathetic. Draco and music went together not as commonly as Draco and flying, or Draco and making Potter's life hell, but it was there. His mother had loved to dance, and had made him take piano lessons from a young age just to spindle a tune she could twirl do when he was too small to properly dance with her. But he could not respond with words like that, and due to the nature of this manner of revenge, he was not able to use his cutting arsonal of words either. It was rather unfair.
But get it back somehow. He inclined his head once more, despite the fact that she would not be able to make out the details most likely - the movement was more of a twitch than a full on nod anyway. "I am working on it." He was. Draco had always been clever, but now his focuss was not on the lessons being taught (as if whatever he would learn here would actually mean anything). No, he was more focussed on solving the problem and getting out of here. Back to his mother. Just to make sure she was safe.
Perhaps, though it seemed unlikely, he could get back and then bring her here along with him. She would be safe here...and Lucius had not seemed to notice that there was an older version of himself using the name of Cadmus wandering around. Before that could be solved, however, the trouble was in how he would get back. Unfortunately, all of the books had mentioned something along the lines of severing his ties with this world. Cutting the illusion.
Draco did not fancy killing himself, thank you very much.
It was strange, with this girl, that he was not able to read her as he was others. The eyes were the windows to the soul, and this girl had hazy shutters down which not only blocked everything out, but kept everything that might have been useful to him inside. The facial reactions gave some away though; a stutter, a twitch, a flush spreading over the skin of her cheeks. All rather endearing, and all as a result of him and his attention. He would be a fool not to use that to his advantage.
"Perhaps they are emotions. Or possible paths of the future. If only my last divination professor had not been so rubbish, I may have had some actual respect for more than the theory of that subject. But...I'm special?" he grinned (or gave half a grin and half a smirk), acknowledging that easily. It was true, after all. He was Draco Malfoy. "Your gift could say the same for you."
Why were people so...boring? Of course, Ministry social functions had never been the most fun, but this was going to be with people his age. Teenagers. Draco was rather looking forward to it. The most recent, similar occasion had been the Yule Ball in fourth year, and he'd spent most of that whirling around the dancefloor with Pansy. He did love to dance.
"That truely sounds rather dull," he said, not bothering with hinting or tact. Oh, he could do them - tact was perfect for manipulating people, but he had other methods for today. "You cannot attend a function such as this just to read. Dancing is surely the point of such an occasion. And me...Unfortunately, it seems that everybody has landed themselves with dates. I do not wish to attend as a spare part around couples such as Cissa and Lucius." Or Abbott and her partner. He would get back at her as well. "If you go, could I tempt you to a dance or two?"
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Post by elvishbanana2 on Jul 23, 2011 8:21:18 GMT -5
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Diana stood near the edge of the railing, both hands propped up on the banister. After a moment, she realized her hands had automatically shifted into a playing position, and couldn’t resist a tiny smile. She remembered her Uncle Dmitri’s hands habitually doing the same thing; he would often play piano on the dinner table, on the floor, on railings and signposts. Everywhere he could put his fingers, he played. Diana couldn’t tell whether it was unconsciously done or not- now she wondered if she was headed the same way. There was, however, a certain happy satisfaction in knowing that the piano was part of her body, another of her trusty instincts. After all the years of practice, of struggling to master a piece that required more than she could do, of fighting to be able to conquer the world of Braille sheet music, she had finally begun to do it. It was proof to Diana, proof that her blindness would not always hold her back. Freedom, she thought happily.
Draco’s quiet words made her wonder what, exactly, he’d lost. It had to have been something terribly important- a friend, perhaps, or an estranged family member. Diana didn’t dare pry- she’d done enough to embarrass him already. ”I am working on it.”
”As am I,” she said quietly, as if she spoke to herself. This time, however, it was not her music that she spoke of. Diana had spent the last five years entombed within the dusty darkness of the Hogwarts Library, scouring the sections on magical healing and spellwork. Instinct and faith told her that there was a way to reverse her blindness- she just had to find it. Diana had begun exploring other ways of healing, poring over books on Chinese magic or American Indian rituals. But still there was nothing. Not even Muggle science could give her what was rightfully hers- although she disliked the mere idea of resorting to using Muggle procedures, she would do whatever it took to regain her vision.
But at what cost? The voice in her mind, the strong one that had so surprised her when she realized it was her own, piped up again. Would I lose the colors, the hearing? Would I lose the knowing what’s going on inside a person’s head by the way they speak? Could I trade my sight for that?
The answer was certainly yes, but at the moment, it was not as strong as she imagined.
”Perhaps they are emotions. Or possible paths of the future. If only my last divination professor had not been so rubbish, I may have had some actual respect for more than the theory of that subject. But… I’m special?”
Diana shook her head, grinning at the sound of the grin in his own voice. ”Divination here is… not half bad, so long as the professor eases up on the whole ‘stare into the crystal ball; gaze into it and See the future’ business.” It was true- Diana liked the class well enough, if it weren’t for the fact that her teacher continually made references to ‘seeing’ things. Diana didn’t see- she felt. Turning his words over in her head, Diana thought about his guesses. Emotions? Now there was an idea- perhaps the auras responded to those who had strong emotions. But that couldn’t be- Harry, a Gryffindor she had taken an unconscious liking to, had only the darkest smears of red about him, and more often than not, she had to hit him over the head with her cane before he could let his emotions rule him. On the other hand, there was Draco, whose emotions were veiled. ”You have some very interesting ideas,” she said. ”But I’m afraid when it comes to Divination, you’re a bit… off. It actually works, so long as the person divining has even an iota of Sight.” She smiled a little more, her voice quieting a little. ”And yes. You’re special.”
”Your gift could say the same for you.”
Your gift. Not your curse, or your ability. Your gift, she thought, stunned. The fact that he’d called her ability a gift meant far more than the compliment itself- though both were appreciated. ”T—thank you,” she said, blushing again. Her plans for the Masquerade, however, did not go down well.
”That truly sounds rather dull,” he said flatly. ”You cannot attend a function such as this just to read. Dancing is surely the point of such an occasion. And me… Unfortunately, it seems that everybody has landed themselves with dates. I do not wish to attend as a spare part around couples such as Narcissa and Lucius. If you go, could I tempt you to a dance or two?”
Diana blinked, surprised. He didn’t have a partner? She found that difficult to believe. ”You cannot be serious,” she said slowly, unsure whether he was making fun of her or not. His voice testified the truth, but there was no way to tell for certain with the Malfoy boy. ”You cannot in all honesty tell me that you haven’t had a hundred different girls ask you to go- and you have turned them all down, or have been turned down yourself.”
Then his full statement kicked in. Her eyes widened, her heart racing and her cheeks flooded with red. ”I… I don’t know quite what to say to that,” she said faintly, shock making her blink. ”I… I suppose you could.”
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Post by draco abraxas malfoy on Jul 23, 2011 9:26:36 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://www.photofurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/green_and_white_wallpaper.jpg); width: 345px; height: 265px; border:3px solid slategray; moz-radius: 1em 4em; border-radius: 1em 4em; opacity: 0.9;] "i'm just spiralling" Again, the idea of landing on the benches near to where the girl was standing passed through his mind but he dimissed it as though it was nothing more than a whisper in the air. The feeling of floating above the ground, the broom drifting lightly in the breeze but majorly staying still, he would not give that up. He did not wish to.
As am I. Probably not for the same problem, of course. If Draco had been a boy who cared, truely cared beyond more than settling his own problems with the other slytherin, he may have thought about that. Perhaps even asked her. As it was, the only thing he was interested in was making her pay for the slights against his family, and that was something that he would manage. His path to managing it, at the moment, was based around the flushing cheeks and stuttering words originating from her.
The other information was simply being filed away. Filed away after a soft response from him. Not a rude response, because any pureblood boy of his upbringing (of which there were, admittedly, few) knew how to be polite in company which required it, such as this one...because, for all the slights against his family, she was a Slytherin and a pureblood and powerful and, apparantly...enraptured by him. All things he could use. And would use.
"I had an interest in the subject when I was a child," he said absently, "Though, admittedly, my father's interest in other matters and the Dark Arts seeped over to me much more than tea leaves and crystal balls." The nature of the dark arts were fascinating, Draco would willingly admit it. He had known more dark than light magic by the time he had stepped foot into Hogwarts in first year, and he kept wanting to learn more.
He smiled softly at the statement from her which only seemed to back up the other signals he was recieving from her - the stuttering and the flushing. You're special. Yes, he was, and people who could recognise that were useful. For the majority, at least. "Thank you for your kind words," he pratically purred, stretching out slightly over the broom in a lazy attempt to keep it in place. "And unfortunately, I am. Well, no, invitations have not been lacking. But invitations from those worthy enough to spend time alone with me, incredibly so." The fact that he still hadn't established himself much in Slytherin house probably had lead to that.
Plus, he wouldn't have accepted an offer from a girl. They would be interested in hand holding or midnight trysts, something which Draco was not going to play with. Not after the stories he had spun to Cissa...and also because of the fact that it had come to his attention that he was actually related to all of the girls worth his attention. Other than her. The amount of boys available was a higher amount...but wizarding times and opinions on that subject were different here to at home. Only Cissa really knew, and that was due to the fact that he had admitted it freely. Anything to avoid an accusation of fancying her.
"I would be honoured if I could." Honoured and glad. The opportunities to make her regret what she did, or to slimb up the powerhouse were...great. If she agreed. "Unless you would wish to accompany me completely?"
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Post by elvishbanana2 on Jul 23, 2011 11:56:30 GMT -5
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Diana was shocked to hear that the famous Draco Malfoy had ever taken an interest in Divination. It wasn’t one of the more favored magical arts- even dating as far back as Ancient Greece, Seers had been persecuted for their visions. Cassandra had been killed for her predictions- the various temples of Apollo had been ransacked and burned more times than history could keep track of.
”I had an interest in the subject when I was a child. Though, admittedly, my father’s interest in other matters and the Dark Arts seeped over to me much more than tea leaves and crystal balls.” Although she was a little surprised to find that Draco had dabbled in the Dark Arts so young, she didn’t disapprove. The very idea of the power offered by the Dark Arts was… seductive. Diana had only just begun to peruse the Restricted Section- the healing suggested by the lighter forms of magic was simply not providing her with the answers she wanted. The Dark Arts were more open about the possibility of advanced healing techniques- albeit with more… questionable… methods. ”I understand what you mean,” she said thoughtfully. ”The Dark Arts provide some fascinating alternatives to normal magic. The possibilities are endless, once you factor out the ethics.”
Draco took her compliment well, though it didn’t seem to do much for his superiority complex. ”Thank you for your very kind words.” He leaned forward over the broom, laying over it casually. His voice was low and pleased. Draco was obviously used to flattery. Which is why his not having a date for the Masquerade was so baffling. It was easy for Diana to imagine Draco with girls hanging off of him. She could even imagine there being a “Draco Malfoy Fan Club” at his previous school, wherever it was. Would I be in that club? she wondered, and flushed red at the thought. Oh, no. Oh, Merlin help me. I’ve got a curst crush on him. Oh, Merlin… It all made sense. The blushing, the stammering. The way she couldn’t keep him out of her head. She’d read about such things, of course. And Georgiana had talked almost incessantly about one boy or another over the years. But nothing- nothing- had prepared her for this. Her breeding, her magical prowess, even the magical Sight might have helped her in that- but there was only one, small problem.
She’d insulted him. And his family. The worst of all possible things to do. Any witch or wizard with half a decent upbringing would brook no insult to their family. Draco had obviously been brought up in the best of homes. And while a Gryffindor or a Hufflepuff of decent heritage might have simply hexed her and had the whole thing done with, any self-respecting Slytherin would wait for appropriate retribution. Diana could have cursed herself for her stupidity. There was very little she could do to make up for such an insult.
”And unfortunately, I am. Well, no, invitations have not been lacking. But invitations from those worthy enough to spend time alone with me, incredibly so.”
Diana raised an eyebrow, narrowly resisting the urge to run screaming from him. ”Then your expectations must be very great indeed. Pure blood is obviously a necessity, and probably also to be a member of Slytherin House. I can understand the requirement for good looks and charm, but there are several such girls. Excuse me if I find it difficult to believe that none of them asked you.”
Diana’s face was a degree shy of bursting into violent flames. She wondered dryly if a Cooling Charm might ease the redness out of her face. It wasn’t that she counted herself among the girls- her mistake of insulting him ruled her out automatically, if it weren’t for the fact that she was also shy, blind, and hot-tempered. Diana knew she had absolutely no chance with Draco. Knew it in her very bones.
”I would be honoured if I could. Unless you would wish to accompany me completely?”
Or not.
Diana reeled from shock, laughing nervously. ”Me? Accompany you? I know you’re not stupid, so you must just be trying to be polite. I mean… I… and what I said to you… Merlin, you cannot be serious.” She had to force the words out. She didn’t want to remind him about her harsh words and brash actions. But she couldn’t help it. The truth of it was, if it hadn’t been for her insult, she would have said yes. Probably. But so long as that insult hung over her head like a raincloud, constantly poking her and reminding her about her horrible temper, she knew saying yes would only provide a plethora of new problems.
Still.
Yes, she wanted to say. I’d like that, very, very much. But I’m so poxy scared of you- and the way you affect me. I can’t keep my mouth shut around you- can’t help what I say or what I do. You confuse me, Draco Malfoy- but I’d still go with you.
If only it weren’t for that blasted incident.
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Post by draco abraxas malfoy on Jul 23, 2011 15:44:55 GMT -5
[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style,background-image:url(http://www.photofurl.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/10/green_and_white_wallpaper.jpg); width: 345px; height: 265px; border:3px solid slategray; moz-radius: 1em 4em; border-radius: 1em 4em; opacity: 0.9;] "i'm just spiralling" Draco was a good liar. Mastering the art of using the words before him and the words in his mind, twisting them to take hold other the minds and hearts of others...that was a gift that was his. She may be able to see colours and other such pretty things, but he knew how to say the right things. Or, so he thought. Unfortunately, Draco Malfoy's inability to plan and his own self confidence more often than not just made him look like a fool.
For which he completely blamed Potter. Everything could be blamed on Scarhead, the Mudblood and the Weasel. He'd work out exactly how at another point.
"The temptation of the dark arts is...euphoric. My father once said that some of the spells you can cast make you feel alost sexual in nature. It's fools who don't understand that. Fools and blood traitors, with a black and white mind when it comes to light and dark spells. Whether a spell is light or dark should be defined by the intention of the user. Ministry fools."
Making a small speech on the matter was not what he had planned...but again, Draco's planning skills were not the most brilliant of his abilities. Which was more than a little shame. Manipulating people, though...that was a good skill of his.
Draco snorted, if snorting was a term which could describe the small noise which escaped him, which was no way at all common. "Why should I allow someone not of my status, or in fact anywhere near my status, to lay their hands on me? I only like the best. Beautiful things. And such." Which was, again, something he had inherited from his mother. A good trait, this time though...well, Draco did enjoy shopping.
He tried not to smirk at the expressions which flickered over her face as it subtle invitation. Reactions like shock and suprise were certainly ones he enjoyed to watch and observe. To take note of and try to gain again and again as much as he could. "I don't jest around social matters, Hunter. It was a serious question: whether you would wish to accompany me...but if you wish to throw this in my face and bite back, using harsh words and family insults, then you can expect me to retaliate. Thank you." He narrowed his eyes slightly as he spoke. Being turned down...Oh, Draco hated being rejected. Rejection was common though, since he had started school...from the moment Potter had rejected his hand.
And he did not understand why. Some people called him sad for that.
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