Post by Erys Grace on Jan 29, 2008 18:43:52 GMT
The daily routine, for Erys, had dried out; like a pale, mottled leaf in the fall. Her entire existence had felt stale up until this time, with her best friend and boyfriend vanished. Despite that fact, the Slytherin prefect was sharp as ever: she used her beauty like a whip. The teachers had become well aquainted with her and her antics by now, for it was foolish not to know all the prefects. With this in mind, her bengal cat self slunk into the room, eyeing the assembled pupils with absolutely no interest. The nonsense of other houses didn't intrigue her in the least, while her own house maintained most of her attention. And there were a few Slytherins in here, how delightful. Flashing a catlike stare at the one in the back, Erys felt a sudden pulse of anguish tear through her. Every guy still reminded her of Joshua Rivas. It was months ago he left without a trace, or word from, and the pain was still fresh in her mind. She hadn't anyone to lean on, since Veata left as well.
Thanks to these two facts, the pretty Slytherin had grown colder. Still calm and collected, but icier than ever. Shaking her head to clear it, Erys concentrated, her bones rearranging and growing, her muscles lengthening and repositioning themselves. Soon she was in human form, standing gracefully at the back before sitting next to the boy. He was like her in a way. She always sat at the back, taunting the other houses in similar Slytherin fashion.
Nodding to the one beside her in silent greeting, the animagus held her hand over her desk, and within a moment her supplies appeared. Ink, a raven feathered quill, and clean parchment. Uncorking the little bottle, Erys dipped the quill in, leaning over the parchment to scrawl the notes down in beautiful script. Finishing by writing her name at the top right hand corner, the prefect drew her head back, admiring her work. Time to learn. Not like she didn't love fooling around in class, for she did, but this was the Dark Arts. The class practically had her name on it. There shouldn't be any other houses here but her's.
Once or twice did she glance over to him, who looked around sixth year or seventh year. In those quick looks, Erys had realised what he looked like. And it wasn't bad at all.[/color]
Thanks to these two facts, the pretty Slytherin had grown colder. Still calm and collected, but icier than ever. Shaking her head to clear it, Erys concentrated, her bones rearranging and growing, her muscles lengthening and repositioning themselves. Soon she was in human form, standing gracefully at the back before sitting next to the boy. He was like her in a way. She always sat at the back, taunting the other houses in similar Slytherin fashion.
Nodding to the one beside her in silent greeting, the animagus held her hand over her desk, and within a moment her supplies appeared. Ink, a raven feathered quill, and clean parchment. Uncorking the little bottle, Erys dipped the quill in, leaning over the parchment to scrawl the notes down in beautiful script. Finishing by writing her name at the top right hand corner, the prefect drew her head back, admiring her work. Time to learn. Not like she didn't love fooling around in class, for she did, but this was the Dark Arts. The class practically had her name on it. There shouldn't be any other houses here but her's.
Once or twice did she glance over to him, who looked around sixth year or seventh year. In those quick looks, Erys had realised what he looked like. And it wasn't bad at all.[/color]
