Status: A life in snapshots
The Silver Three
Trio
Blaise has his feet resting across my lap. Draco is sitting on the floor, his back pressed against my legs as he sorts through Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans. Pansy Parkinson sits across from us and she drones on to Draco, her words running together. Pansy would not be a problem if she were half as smart as she thinks she is.
Most of the girls in my house are quite smart. While we are often silent about how intelligent we are to maintain the air of cool and collected countenance. I do not now how it’s become a standard in our house, but it is expected. Pansy is one of the few who is neither cool and collected nor smart.
A true example of intelligence was in Poppy Kingston. She is tall and languid, and she moves like the swans in the pond in my backyard. Her hair is paler than Draco’s, though I never would have imagined that to be possible. Her eyes are large and blue, and you can see the way they analyze everything.
Poppy walks into the room and she smiles and nods at me. I smile and nod back. Pansy makes a face and when Poppy is no longer in the room, she turns to us and says, “She’s thinner than unicorn hair.”
“At least her face doesn’t look permanently pressed against glass,” I snap at Pansy, turning my eyes to her. Pansy looks at me, her face twisting and angry. I do not feel afraid or bad for my words. “Did you stick your pudgy face against the glass of a sweets case? I should think so, from the state of it.”
Everyone in the common room snickers and Pansy creates small fists with her hand. “Who asked you anything, Blackburn? You’ve got enough freckles to look like the stars.”
Gently, I remove Blaise’s legs from my lap. Draco leans away but his blue eyes are fixed on me. His lips turn at the corners ever so slightly, working their way into a smirk. Slowly, I stand and look down at Pansy. I know that I am small, and that I look mousy, but I do not care.
“Thank you for comparing me to the stars, Parkinson. Constellations are quite beautiful, however I think most would agree that pugs are not.” Pansy is vibrating with anger. I step forward. I do not like Pansy Parkinson, and I want her to be afraid of me. “Funny, how Pansy is such a delicate, frail flower, isn’t it? Did you know that some use the word ‘pansy’ as a metaphor for someone who is afraid and weak?”
“Blackburn-"
“Is a much stronger name than Parkinson,” I finish for her. When she says nothing, I look around the room. I tilt my chin up. “Who here thinks that Pansy Parkinson looks like a pug?”
Several hands shoot up. One after the other, hands go in the air. It is the first time that I have given people an option to agree with me, or to be against me. My suspicion is correct: people do not want to get on my bad side. I have hung around Draco long enough, and been a dark presence enough to have power.
Draco stands up and lightly touches my arm. I do not look at him, but I know this is his small sign of support. Blaise stands up as well, crossing his arms. We make a triangle, the three of us. A triangle of silver tongued serpents.
We are a trio and poison runs in our veins.
Most of the girls in my house are quite smart. While we are often silent about how intelligent we are to maintain the air of cool and collected countenance. I do not now how it’s become a standard in our house, but it is expected. Pansy is one of the few who is neither cool and collected nor smart.
A true example of intelligence was in Poppy Kingston. She is tall and languid, and she moves like the swans in the pond in my backyard. Her hair is paler than Draco’s, though I never would have imagined that to be possible. Her eyes are large and blue, and you can see the way they analyze everything.
Poppy walks into the room and she smiles and nods at me. I smile and nod back. Pansy makes a face and when Poppy is no longer in the room, she turns to us and says, “She’s thinner than unicorn hair.”
“At least her face doesn’t look permanently pressed against glass,” I snap at Pansy, turning my eyes to her. Pansy looks at me, her face twisting and angry. I do not feel afraid or bad for my words. “Did you stick your pudgy face against the glass of a sweets case? I should think so, from the state of it.”
Everyone in the common room snickers and Pansy creates small fists with her hand. “Who asked you anything, Blackburn? You’ve got enough freckles to look like the stars.”
Gently, I remove Blaise’s legs from my lap. Draco leans away but his blue eyes are fixed on me. His lips turn at the corners ever so slightly, working their way into a smirk. Slowly, I stand and look down at Pansy. I know that I am small, and that I look mousy, but I do not care.
“Thank you for comparing me to the stars, Parkinson. Constellations are quite beautiful, however I think most would agree that pugs are not.” Pansy is vibrating with anger. I step forward. I do not like Pansy Parkinson, and I want her to be afraid of me. “Funny, how Pansy is such a delicate, frail flower, isn’t it? Did you know that some use the word ‘pansy’ as a metaphor for someone who is afraid and weak?”
“Blackburn-"
“Is a much stronger name than Parkinson,” I finish for her. When she says nothing, I look around the room. I tilt my chin up. “Who here thinks that Pansy Parkinson looks like a pug?”
Several hands shoot up. One after the other, hands go in the air. It is the first time that I have given people an option to agree with me, or to be against me. My suspicion is correct: people do not want to get on my bad side. I have hung around Draco long enough, and been a dark presence enough to have power.
Draco stands up and lightly touches my arm. I do not look at him, but I know this is his small sign of support. Blaise stands up as well, crossing his arms. We make a triangle, the three of us. A triangle of silver tongued serpents.
We are a trio and poison runs in our veins.
♠ ♠ ♠
This is the firs time we visibly see Eleanor bully someone. Though it could be argued, it will not always be so.-N