Status: Active
Give in to Love, or Live in Fear
#3
*Later that day*
Mirabelle walked through the hall, to nowhere in particular.
The Weasley twins were walking in the opposite direction and were several feet in front of her. ''Encase you were wondering, Oliver's fine.'' They refrained from rolling their eyes.
''Oh, well I wasn't.'' She smiled innocently, continuing to walk right past them as if they never spoke.
Adrian Pucey caught up with her a few halls down. ''The Three Broomsticks. Tonight.'' He informed, waving as he rushed to into Defense against the dark arts.
With a winning smile and a few choice words, she promised to be there.
After Defense against the dark arts with Adrian and Marcus, she walked lonesomely to her next much dreaded class.
She solemnly walked down hall after hall, descended stair after stair, she finally stopped at the door of her most hated class of the lot, room 7A on the seventh floor: Arithmancy.
The only reason she hated this class so much was Professor Septima Vector was annoyingly strict, perhaps she would have two reasons, but she failed to notice him.
Oliver Wood, that is.
She took a seat in the far back, hiding in a dark corner of the room. Mirabelle was quite the contradiction. She would seem to be an outgoing person, but the noticeable truth is she only had a few close friends.
Other than Quidditch, Mirabelle socialize with a very select few.
She chewed on her pouty lip as the Professor went on about their previous lesson, the one she and everyone other than Hermione Granger weren't listening to.
The class ended with sighs of relief, gaining a disapproving look from Prof. Septima, of course.
Mirabelle took up her books and fell into the mass of retreating Hogwarts students. In the corridor outside of the classroom door, the students seemed to have evaporated.
Mirabelle slowly walked down the hall, in no rush to make it to Ancient runes. She watched the stone floors disappear beneath her feet, suddenly she bumped right into an unmoving firm form, falling onto her behind.
When the person who had allowed her to fall into them didn't offer her a hand, she sighed from on the floor.
''Chivalry: time of death...'' She looked at her watch, before she could state the time, they offered her a hand.
''Wait! We have a pulse.'' She took his hand, standing to her feet. She was surprised to see her Quidditch rival and Gryffindor's Captian: Oliver Wood. She was more surprised by the sudden electric jolt that shot up her fingertip and through her arm.
''You shocked me!'' She hissed, ripping her hand away to rub it as she glared up at him.
His heart was pounding far too loud within his chest for him to speak just yet, which only gained him a prolonged glare from her.
''I'm sorry.'' He finally found his voice.
''He speaks!'' She exclaimed dryly, she walked around him without another word.
Mirabelle walked through the hall, to nowhere in particular.
The Weasley twins were walking in the opposite direction and were several feet in front of her. ''Encase you were wondering, Oliver's fine.'' They refrained from rolling their eyes.
''Oh, well I wasn't.'' She smiled innocently, continuing to walk right past them as if they never spoke.
Adrian Pucey caught up with her a few halls down. ''The Three Broomsticks. Tonight.'' He informed, waving as he rushed to into Defense against the dark arts.
With a winning smile and a few choice words, she promised to be there.
After Defense against the dark arts with Adrian and Marcus, she walked lonesomely to her next much dreaded class.
She solemnly walked down hall after hall, descended stair after stair, she finally stopped at the door of her most hated class of the lot, room 7A on the seventh floor: Arithmancy.
The only reason she hated this class so much was Professor Septima Vector was annoyingly strict, perhaps she would have two reasons, but she failed to notice him.
Oliver Wood, that is.
She took a seat in the far back, hiding in a dark corner of the room. Mirabelle was quite the contradiction. She would seem to be an outgoing person, but the noticeable truth is she only had a few close friends.
Other than Quidditch, Mirabelle socialize with a very select few.
She chewed on her pouty lip as the Professor went on about their previous lesson, the one she and everyone other than Hermione Granger weren't listening to.
The class ended with sighs of relief, gaining a disapproving look from Prof. Septima, of course.
Mirabelle took up her books and fell into the mass of retreating Hogwarts students. In the corridor outside of the classroom door, the students seemed to have evaporated.
Mirabelle slowly walked down the hall, in no rush to make it to Ancient runes. She watched the stone floors disappear beneath her feet, suddenly she bumped right into an unmoving firm form, falling onto her behind.
When the person who had allowed her to fall into them didn't offer her a hand, she sighed from on the floor.
''Chivalry: time of death...'' She looked at her watch, before she could state the time, they offered her a hand.
''Wait! We have a pulse.'' She took his hand, standing to her feet. She was surprised to see her Quidditch rival and Gryffindor's Captian: Oliver Wood. She was more surprised by the sudden electric jolt that shot up her fingertip and through her arm.
''You shocked me!'' She hissed, ripping her hand away to rub it as she glared up at him.
His heart was pounding far too loud within his chest for him to speak just yet, which only gained him a prolonged glare from her.
''I'm sorry.'' He finally found his voice.
''He speaks!'' She exclaimed dryly, she walked around him without another word.