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Desolation of the Storm
She related the helpless leaf to her own life, reminded by the burst of green of her past and what it had held. Likewise to the leaf, she had been hurled from one place to another, never knowing where she would end up...
Draco Malfoy watched the auburn-haired beauty struggle up the front walk with her ridiculously oversized trunk. His eyes bored into her as she passed the large stone fountain that bedecked their somber lawn, and he turned from the window to face his father. "We needn't a maid here , father. Why are you bringing a muggle, of all things?" he drawled, attempting to exaggerate his boredom.
An Endless List
Before Jacqueline had even the slightest chance to see where he had disappeared to, Narcissa beckoned her up the stairway. "Leave your trunk," she commanded as the girl began to pull it toward the bottom step. Jacqueline flicked a stubborn auburn curl from her face and obeyed. "This way." The woman had dropped her cheerful tone almost immediately after Lucius had left for a more monotonous one.
Rosemary Oil and Prying Eyes
She inspected her reflection, scrutinizing it, for what she saw could surely not have been herself. The imposter-Jacqueline Humblot which stared back at her from the opposite side of the glass had the face of a frightened child, matured by time, yet still unlike the dignified seventeen-year-old woman that had once been there.
Touched By an Angel
"Stupid girl!" he heard escape as a hiss from her lips. She struck the ebony and bone garment–though it hardly covered the girl–with the tip of her wand, muttering curses and incantations under her breath. She straightened whilst the dress enlarged to better fit and clothe her. Narcissa spat at her bare feet and brushed against his shoulder roughly as she left the two alone.
"Qu'est-ce que c'est? Qu'est-ce que c'est!" she moaned as though in pain, and she flinched, suddenly skittish, as he made to comfort her. "You are a Death Eater! Do not touch me!" she snapped with such malice that he froze.
A Question of Trust
Jacqueline did not return to his chamber the following morning until she had visited the others, in turn, and was assured that Draco still slumbered. There, she quickly tossed a lit match upon a single log, then hastened to leave, casting a final glance over her shoulder to see if the log had taken to the flame. Once it had, she hurried along the corridor and padded down the staircase to the kitchens.
"Your father mustn't discover us here, Draco. He will take it wrongly," Jacqueline whispered fervently, her back pressed rigidly against the cool wall of the cupboard. Her leg stretched before her at a slightly awkward angle, and her knuckles shone white from being clenched so tightly as fists.
"Bella?" the woman called into the darkness. Her voice was muffed by the thicket of surrounding trees, their dense bark seeming to absorb her calls. "Bella?" she queried of the woods once more, yet received naught but silence in return. The lantern she had carried with her had long-since been extinguished by the unnatural wind which stung and bit at her face and hair. It was a different sort of fear, what she was experiencing; a kind she had not felt for some time.
Gratitude and Realisation
(Chapter ten: Gratitude and Realisation) I will warn you now that there are HBP spoilers contained within this chapter. Not many, but if you have not yet read HBP, then I ask that you read this chapter with caution.
At a Loss
Chapter eleven: At a Loss
Chapter Twelve: Secrets
All Logic Aside
"It isn't what you represent," he murmured softly, "but what you are." His mind screamed for him to be silenced. To continue was to betray his soul—if indeed he still had one—and reveal things best kept hidden. "This you can't ask me to face."
The man–Wormtail–procured a haggard-looking girl from the depths of the wood. Her grey eyes betrayed her fear, though her lips were set in a resolute line. Her soft brown hair hung lankly to the centre of her back; it had once been tightly curled, yet now it was but a matted mass gone to disrepair. She was garbed in the lavender robes of a foreign academy which Jacqueline did not recognise, pleated pristinely in spite of their tattered state. Her hands were bound. "Ah. . . Alexandra. . ."
"You know what must be done, do you not?" she continued, this time speaking directly to him. He remained mute, watching her steadily. Jacqueline blinked and brought her eyes into focus, glancing at him for a brief moment and running her tongue along her cracked lower lip. "There is but one way. You must have seen it: that is why you do not speak." She turned to him suddenly, her expression pained and full of intent.
Broken Porcelain Doll
"I have enlisted the aid of the Order of the Phoenix," the woman declared in a shaken voice. Jacqueline raised her eyes to meet her face. She noted that her chin was raised slightly in prideful determination, though her true feelings could be betrayed in other ways.
"Jacqueline Adèle Humblot, you are hereby charged with the attacks on fellow students Nicole Angelique Dubois and Arnaud Christophe Blanchefeille. Your expulsion from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic is immediate..."
Hope and Dismay
"Do not hate your father, Draco. He was once as good a man as any, and that man is still inside him now. It will surface fully before the end. Perhaps he will then be redeemed in your eyes."
The Beating of a Heart
"Do not fear yet, my darling girl," Voldemort laughed. "I have inflicted but little pain upon you. It is nothing in comparison to what you will soon experience." He began to pace. "To lose your blood is not enough, and would hurt you far less. It is your soul which you shall feel being ripped from your body as it comes to inhabit mine. Do you now see? Killing you would lose me the one thing I desire–or rather, the three..."
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