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Post by edward on Nov 19, 2008 23:00:03 GMT -5
  ------------------------------------------------- Stop making plans, start making sense Don't you believe any word they said
Edward is a very complicated boy. You see, he's outspoken and loud, but shy and reserved. He has a very, very bad temper, but knows when to stop. He's rather intelligent for his age, but doesn't like to let that show. He is a very strange boy as well. For one thing, he doesn't really like to meet new people and for another, he was sitting alone in the shrieking shack. This place was obviously falsely rumored to have ghosts hovering about. Edward knew that these were just tales, but decided against everything and went to check it out. It was cold in that house-like area. There was obviously no insolation or anything. So there he was, sitting on a step of the stair case, looking at a loose floorboard.
The boy sighed and waited, hoping that something exciting was going to happen. Maybe the stories weren't just rumors. Maybe they were true. Maybe Edward was going to witness something amazing that evening. Maybe he wasn't alone in that little house. Perhaps there was someone watching his every move, who knew his every thought. That was an odd feeling to have, so odd that it made the hairs on Eddie's neck stand straight up. There were a few noises that rang through the house, but he came to the conclusion that it was just mice hanging around int he walls.
He was rather lonesome these days. Sure, he had all those great qualities, but why hadn't someone seen them all? Why did they just all walk by him? He didn't know, and this confused him. Sometimes people were just conceded and self centered. Too much to think about someone else. But he knew that this wasn't the case with most of the people that he would see walking around the castle. What was wrong with him? Maybe it was because he was a freak. Yes, that's it. Because he was different than most people. There was something special about Edward Tyson Fletcher.
Don't you wish that you could change a simple hair to a different color with a simple thought? Your eyes from a chocolate brown to an astonishing green? Well, Eddie had this gift. But for some reason, people seemed to cast him out, like he was weird, like he didn't belong. And for some time, that's what he thought. Shaking these troubling thoughts out of his mind, his brown eyes shot up from the floor board and rested on the door knob. Someone was trying to get in. Who was it? What were they doing here? Had someone followed him?
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Post by roseweasley on Nov 19, 2008 23:33:00 GMT -5
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"You've got to be bloody kidding me!" Rose hollered from the outside of the Shack. How many years had she spent sneaking off to the Shrieking Shack to do practically whatever she liked? And how many times had the rusted door frames or loose windows given way? Yet tonight they all seemed to stick shut, as if someone had gone through and magically secured them. Rose cursed the ever wisening school just up the path. The tower peaks were slightly visible from where she stood in the wooded area surrounding the shack. Really, despite the ghost stories told about the place, it wasn't such a bad spot to put down a home. Of course, as long as the supposed haunted house stood erect, no one would build nearby. Even the people of Hogsmeade steered clear of the dilapidated old hut.
Having grown up under the tutelage of Hermione Granger and, for a short time at least, Ronald Weasley, Rose learned of all the stories of their childhood. Ron had let slip, long before Rose even attended Hogwarts that the Shrieking Shack wasn't really haunted at all. In fact, weird noises hadn't been heard from the building in years, decades even. And what people did hear was usually wind creaking through old, neglected floorboards and wall paneling. Rose was also told not to ruin the effect for her classmates either. Which, really, in her book wasn't all that horrible. She had fun with the knowledge, daring people to go up to the house rather than stay behind the fencing. In her later years she even bet people money they couldn't do it, and when they couldn't, she collected. Just one more scam in her ever growing arsenal.
Tonight, however, Rose had really just wanted to escape the responsibilities of adulthood. She had gone to the Three Broomsticks, but without the intent on getting completely hammered, she walked the village. Hogsmeade was peaceful in the colder months, and Rose, despite her outspoken and extremely vivacious lifestyle, enjoyed peace. For a few hours, she had contemplated going out to her father's grave, possibly pay some respects and swing by her aunt and uncle's plots as well. But the more she thought on the subject, the more she grew uncomfortable. So, instead, she decided to visit some old haunts. However difficult they may be to break into.
With another jiggle on the doorknob, Rose gave an irate cry of exasperation and pulled out her wand. "All right," She spoke to the inanimate object with authority and poise, "If you won't open voluntarily, I'll just have to do it the hard way, won't I? Alohamora!" She shouted as a green light exited the tip of her wand and shot into the keyhole. It shone brightly for a few moments until Rose heard the familiar click of a lock and the door jarred open slightly. "There we go." Rose passed through the arch and paused, placing her hand on the door, "Now that wasn't so difficult, was it?" [/blockquote] |
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