[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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The fourth year sat at a table in the Slytherin common room, a quill in her pale hand as she absent-mindedly drew little shapes and flowers on the parchment she was supposed to be writing an essay on. Perhaps she'd bat her eyelashes at Ligeia and beg her to do it for her? Yes, that seemed like a good idea and the professor would be none the wiser. Hopefully. Withdrawing from her daydreaming, she looked around the somewhat empty common room and wondered where everyone was. <p>
One thing that Antigone absolutely detested in life, was looking like a loner. She wasn't the easiest person to get along with and as such had managed to successfully alienate herself to some degree but she preferred not to think on this. Popularity was everything to her. Going to Hogwarts was more to her for the socializing and the occasional spot of mischief and pranking than for study. She didn't really see the point in studying when her family was wealthy enough as it was and she presumed she would marry well. <p>
The young blonde pushed the quill away from her and closed up the ink well, sighing to herself and wondering what to do. Classes were over - thank goodness - and there wasn't any extra-curricular activity going on at that moment that she particularly wanted to involve herself with. So what to do...? Lazily, she directed her wand in the general direction of a first year who was sitting by the fire frowning in concentration at the difficulty of some essay they were writing. Without really thinking about how cruel it might be to do what she was intending to do, she slowly slipped the paper out from under the girl's quill sharply and had it fly straight into the fireplace.
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Sunday was always Brynn's least favourite day of the week. Although she didn't had to attend any classes today, she still had to be prepared for the classes the other day. Monday was the most boring day of the week and Brynn often entered in the classroom without her homework prepared. Luckily, there were always some foolish Ravenclaws willing to do her homework. Some threats could even make them drink the polyjuice potion and write exams instead of her. If there was not a huge possiblity of her being caught, Brynn would surely force another student write exams instead of her.<p>

She entered in Slytherin's common room, prepared to find it deserted. During Sundays, all the students went to the library so there was nothing fun to do in the common rooms. But Brynn was not the type of person to spend her entire day in the library, so she preferred to stay in her bedroom and chose her dress for tomorrow instead of study. Studying was complitely useless for her, she was surely going to marry someone rich, so why bothering studying? Her husband would bring money for her.<p>

The screams of a First Year welcomed her as she entered in the room. Brynn raised her eyebrows, prepared to see a bunch of first years laughing about something stupid, but she saw her friend, Antigone Baudelaire instead. Now when she knew that Lysandra Sutherland was not a pureblood, Antigone was one of the few friends Brynn possessed. Brynn of course had a bunch of followers, wanabee first years who hoped that they would be just a little charming and beautiful like her if they followed her around.<p>

She giggled lightly when her eyes saw the essay burning in the flames. The first year started to cry, which made Brynn's laughter louder. But, this was not appropriate for a lady, so she quickly stopped and just stared at the two other Slytherins, trying to not smile. " Antigone, you surely made my day!" Brynn commented, approaching her friend and standing by her side.

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tag: Antigone | outfit: here | notes: I love jerks <3<br/>
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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A sly smirk twisted Antigone's features as she observed the utterly distraught eleven year old mourn the loss of her homework to the hungry fire. It would be short lived entertainment, but it was entertainment all the same. As bored as she was, she was in no position to be picking and choosing. Much to her absolute delight, the sight of a familiar face entering the common room swept the smirk off her face and turned it into a more sincere smile. "Brynn!" she greeted, rather more loudly than was probably thought respectable had she done so anywhere else. "You have come to spare me from the tedious torment of homework!" The fourth year girl promptly slammed a nearby book shut as if to confirm what she had declared. <p>
The topic of Lysandra Sutherland's blood purity - or lack thereof - was something Antigone had contemplated with something akin to great disappointment and disgust. It was almost as though she took it personally, as though the fact she was muggleborn and had kept it quiet was a personal effrontery. In fact what it was, was more that Tig felt embarrassed that she had allowed herself to be seen thinking the girl her equal for so long only to now look like a gullible idiot, taken in by deceit. Though Antigone was more concerned about wealth and status rather than blood purity, it was still of great importance to her. <p>
Feeling rather smug that her little handiwork had provoked amusement from Brynn, she smirked slightly at her words. "I cannot even begin to think of what you mean," she replied, feigning ignorance to those within earshot but giving Brynn a knowing look that said otherwise. "What brings you to the Slytherin common room?"
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Ah, homework was surely created to torment students. Brynn couldn't understand how writing an essay would help her in life. As if she would need all those complicated spells. She only needed the basics; how to make an ebject levitate and open magically doors. Why bother learning transfiguration? Oh, right, sometimes there are annoying people you want to get rid of and turning them into a frog seems as an acceptable colution. Brynn could not use one of the unforgivable curses ( and she barely knew them anyway), besides she could always say that she transfigurated her classmate into an animal by mistake. Teachers were going to believe her, she was an excellent liar and everyone knew she was not especially good with spells.<p>

" Boredom." Brynn replied nonchalantly, occupying a seat near the fireplace. Altough Slytherin's Common Room looked beautiful and charming, it was rather cold during the winter. They were under the Black Lake and sometimes, if someone was lucky enough he could spot a mer from the window. Brynn has never seen a mermaid, but she once lied she did and everyone was highly impressed by her little fake story. But it stopped being fun when she had to read a stupid book about them in order to prove she saw one to the older Ravenclaws who apparently had seen mers before.<p>

" Sunday is such a boring day, don't you think?" Brynn asked her friend, ignoring the First Year who was crying in the corner of the room. A true Slytherin would never cry, at least not in public. This suddenly made a smile blossom on Brynn's lips as she remembered how Lysandra Sutherland let herself cry in front of her some time ago. Brynn would never allow herself to cry in front of anyone, not even Tristan or Elaine. Unless she had a good reason to do so. " Hogwart's hussies are not interesting anymore." Brynn commented, sighing ligtly. It was just so fun gossiping about someone without having to worry about being concidered a blabber mouth. " I sincerely hope we will soon have something to talk about." A scandal, of course.

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tag: Antigone | outfit: here | notes: I love jerks <3<br/>
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Yes, Antigone found Sundays to be exceedingly dull. Everyone lazed around and it was hardly inducing to any entertainment... Well, not usually anyway. One could find the occasional cheap thrill, such as hurling someone's homework into a fireplace or making a book slam shut on some very keen reader's nose just to frighten the wits out of them but the entertainment rarely lasted very long. It wasn't even as if there was terribly much to do on Sundays other than homework, and she'd die before she spent a whole day on work she thought absolutely pointless. <p>
"Yes... Sundays are quite mind-numbingly dull. I suppose the only ones in the entire castle who enjoy Sundays are Ravenclaws. It's just an extra day of the week for them to make everyone else look unintelligent though they clearly do not realize that they only make themselves look exceedingly dull. " She spoke loudly and matter of factly, sticking her rather angular nose into the air confidently. "I'm almost ashamed to say my sister is among those sorts," she sighed in an exaggerated manner. <p>
"Oh that hussy article? Heavens no, I quite agree! That grew tiresome very quickly indeed. It might not have, had there been some even juicer gossip to go with it. A proper scandal would be divine..." Antigone cared very little if she was speaking loud enough for a good portion of the common room to hear and though it might not be properly ladylike for her to do so, she reasoned that she had grown so bored she could not help herself.
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" I am sure that Ravenclaws beg the teachers to give them extra homework for the weekend!" Brynn agreed with her friend. No wonder why the majority of them were so anti-social and boring. They rarely had something interesting to talk about and they never wanted to do something interesting. Ravenclaws only wanted to study, read books and then study more.<p>

Brynn remembered that Antigone's sister was also a Ravenclaw. It was so weird that those two were so different, both in personality and looks. Then again, Brynn and Clarise were also really different, both in personality and looks. " My sister used to be a Slytherin, but she is the most boring person in the whole world." Brynn said with a sigh. " She always tells me what to do and when someone tells her something she is always whining to Tristan." Brynn couldn't stand the fact that her older siblings were so close.<p>

" That article ashamed our House, although it was fun while it lasted." Brynn responded with a nod. " I wish Yente Ventus could find something else to write about. Too bad that after that article the rules are stricter than ever. No girl dares to be improper."

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tag: Antigone | outfit: here | notes: I love jerks <3<br/>
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Antigone nodded adamantly at Brynn's conclusion about Ravenclaws. "I would not be surprised in the slightest if they did!" She took regular delight in making fun of her sisters at their expense and making their lives difficult by causing trouble. It gave her something to do during the summer when the family reunited. <p>
"I am not surprised. Sisters can be so dreadfully dull. Ligeia is exceedingly boring without even trying sometimes. Your sister sounds a lot like my eldest sister. I borrow her lace fan and she runs to Mama and immediately blames me without having any evidence first!" Tig made to sound as though this was some terrible effrontery, a martyred expression on her face. "You are lucky to 'ave a brother, Brynn, I would give both of my sisters for an older brother." She of course wouldn't trade her sisters up but she could say such things in the trust that there was no commitment to follow through. <p>
"I agree! I 'ave not had to change my behavior of course, but it has certainly made me feel far more self-conscious than necessary. Has it not done with you too?" She rolled her eyes at the idea of it all. If everyone were to act prim and proper, how could she look so very much better than them as she wished to? The gap was closing in, the contrast far less exaggerated than it might have been at one time.
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Clarissa didn't do that, usually, but she always told to Brynn how to dress up. The young Slytherin couldn't understand her sister. She was fifteen after all, she had no right to tell her how to dress up when all the other fourth years were starting to have a more mature style. Brynn didn't want to wear knee-lenght dresses by the time she reached her fifth year. Clarissa just enjoyed making her feel like the baby of the family. Brynn could only guess that her sister was jealous by the fact that they favoured Brynn more than her.<p>

Brynn looked around, hoping that Elaine was not possibly sitting somewhere nearby and then she looked at Tig. " My sister-in-law's sister once told me that I should take care of my reputation. I suspect that she constantly sends letters to Isolde telling her about my behaviour." Brynn replied and rolled her eyes. It was so annoying to be spied by someone who was not even your sister. She liked Elaine, but she hated talking about reputation, when it was clear that she was a perfect, young lady.<p>

" How could they ever think that we are improper, Antigone?" she asked, with her eyebrows raised. " We may not be boring Ravenclaws or freaks like those Hufflepuffs, but we are certainly not hussies." she commented and rolled her eyes once again.

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tag: Antigone | outfit: here | notes: I love jerks <3<br/>
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Tig was quite content with being the youngest of her siblings. She was more than often the center of attention being that she was more outspoken than Ligeia and she was more than a little babied by parents and the family staff. Thus she could not fully sympathize with Brynn on the matter of being youngest a bad thing, seeing as their treatment as the baby of the family seemed quite different and Tig rather liked it.<p>
"Do you think? How awful! I should loathe it if my sister or anyone else were to write home about me." She shouldn't like it at all if Ligeia were to take up her quill and tell their parents what she had been up to. She wrote home to her mother often enough though to know that wasn't the case.
"It's a good thing you are not like the girls in the Prophet - I suspect she would be breathing down your neck and watching you like a hawk. I should die if someone were to watch me so very closely for the purpose of telling my family." She paused for a moment or so to release a heavy sigh. "I do not know how you can stand it, Brynn, it must be very dreadful for you. Unbearable even."<p>
She shook her head at the idea of them being hussies - she wouldn't deny that she had a crush or two but she certainly didn't pursue them so openly, if at all. "They simply do not wish to trust us and it is very indecent of them! I suppose it shall all die down in time 'owever."
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Brynn concidered herself lucky that Yente Ventus has written nothing about her. Isolde would surely freak out, Elaine would probably watch her more that usual and her parents wouldn't buy her new clothes for months! Clarissa would surely make fun of Brynn. Brynn loved scandal, but, she didn't wanted to be involved in one herself.<p>

" They do not trust us because we a still young!" Brynn commented, with a small hint of anger in her voice. It was deffinetly not fair. She was fifteen years of age, she deffinetly deserved their trust. Although fifteen was not such an old age and, Brynn was totally not mature, she didn't want to be treated like a child. Others always told her that she looked older than her actual age (which was totally not due to the fact that she was taller than most fifteen year olds).

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tag: Antigone | outfit: here | notes: ugh short >.><br/>
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Antigone was quite sure her mother and father did not read the Daily Prophet - their English was not at all strong enough for them to read much in it and so it would fall to her middle sister if anyone were to sell her out to them. Of course someone else could mention it in passing but it would probably be her sister. <p>
"I surely detest being this young. Why can they not teach us spells only and be done with it? What use can an essay on antidotes be in a ballroom, may I ask? What use shall knowing Ancient Runes or the locations of the stars ever do to help us when we are married? Again, I cannot see 'ow knowing these things shall even help us find husbands. I should certainly not want to be courted by a man that talks only of orion's belt or bezoars! I cannot wait to be free of Hogwarts and into society instead." The blonde girl un-creased her brow - not because she didn't feel like frowning but it had suddenly occurred to her on the subject of youth, that she didn't want to wrinkle prematurely. Antigone could not wait to turn eighteen, for then she would be out of Hogwarts very possibly betrothed. At present she could think of one or two older boys she wouldn't mind courting her but she wasn't about to declare it from the rooftops.
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Brynn totally agreed with Antigone. A woman didn't have to know all these things. She knew that most upper class debutantes didn't even have to use their wands. They just carried them around in case they were too bored to walk towards the bookshelf to pick up a book or if they wanted to repair something which fell from their hands. Not that men had anything more special to do with their wands. They, just like women carred them around. Who needed to know all that useless stuff if he had house elves to do all the hard work?<p>

" I really hope that my parents will not chose some nerdy Ravenclaw as my husband." Brynn commented and, really, she didn't want to think that her parents were searching for a husband. She didn't even feel prepared to kiss a boy, a marriage would be something really difficult for her. Of course, judging Clarissa's fiance, she doubted that her husband was going to be anything different than him. Her future husband was probably going to be a Bulstrode or a Yaxley.<p>

" Have you ever wondered who will be your fiance, Antigone?" Brynn suddenly asked her friend, eyes examining her friend with curiousity. Antigone always seemed more comfortable among boys than Brynn.

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tag: Antigone | outfit: here | notes: ugh short >.><br/>
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Thinking about her future husband was not an unfamiliar topic to cross Antigone's mind when she grew bored or merely curious. She had a good idea of what sort of man she wished to marry; she wanted him to be awfully handsome and breathtakingly charming. He would have to respect her and be very wealthy, for she refused to treated like anything less than a queen. He would also have to have nerve, she didn't want a cowardly husband. <p>
There was of course one person she could think of whom she would happily marry but she wasn't prepared to divulge his identity to anyone, she loathed feeling embarrassed and vulnerable to criticism. "A Ravenclaw for a husband? Ooh I should hope not! Unless he was not like most Ravenclaws, I should loathe to have such a husband!" She didn't particularly want to feel constantly inferior intellectually to her husband - it was one thing for a man to think he was smarter, another thing for it to be genuinely true. <p>
When the question was turned on her, she felt significantly less inclined to be so forth-coming with conversation. A faint pink hue rose to the surface of her cheeks, barely visible though it was. "What girl 'as not wondered?" she asked, her composure mildly rattled. She glanced around the Common Room briefly as though concerned someone was watching or as if to check he was not there.
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Lysandra pondered the matter quite often. The wonder of a future husband. The conversation about husbands, society and marriage between the two girls was caught behind the entrance way to the Slytherin common room, where Lysandra, once listening to it, caused a rush of torturous, half-conceived thoughts crashing through the water breakers of her brain. She planted her whole body against the wall right before the open entrance in an attempt to eavesdrop further. For the moment, Lysandra's thoughts from the discussion began to paralyze her, and for the support of the wall she was rather grateful as she clung to it closely with her backside and hands pressing heavily.
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<br>Lysandra did not ponder like other girls her age like Brynn and Antigone, for she was not like other girls. She did not adhere to the natural way one should love another; her soul was full of sin, an abomination to the sacred covenant of holy marriage between two peoples. The eyes of God were always searing with righteous fury upon the insignificant girl who fantasized treacherous and lustful thoughts. Why did God have to make woman so perfect and yet damn her with the most ultimate of flaws; that she be indefinitely tied to man? No wonder the forbidden fruit was so tempting and tasting so sweet for our dear Eve--it meant her release from man. It meant release from a paradise where she was an undying servant to God and Adam unwavering, merely created for the duteous purpose to care and service Adam for God's desire to see prosperity.
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<br>This was the opinion of Man, reinforced by this ever-binding corporeal cage of hell. That the woman must serve man as God intended. Lysandra had been doused with the religion of the world since birth, so much so that it was drowning her entirely. Her love was not intended for sinful things--it was intended to fulfill nature's will, to fulfill God's will. The thought of loving anyone but a man clenched her insides almost every time, as if the feeling should be a punishment and not a pleasure. The feelings and the thoughts became electrical shocks to her, pulsating through her body to tense and seize her completely so she could not and should not ever feel those thoughts again.
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<br>It wasn't like this when she was younger. Lysandra thought admiring beauty was just that--admiring beauty. No string attached. The thoughts were pure and innocent. God intended the world to be lavish and beautiful, and it was meant to be enjoyed.

A girl named Brett Coel had shown her how beautiful life really was, how sweet the fruit really tasted. But how forsaken Lysandra felt for the treachery and betrayal God called upon her for taking Brett away. He turned it sour and made love tainted and vile. Once the fruit had touched her lips, there was no going back. Man was more vile than before, society was more vile than before, the world was stained with black, evil reared its ugly, ugly head. Hell hath entered the world, darkened her night, and turned her flesh to fire.
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<br>Husbands. The thought made Lysandra extremely ill.
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<br>Lysandra had intended to spend some time playing the piano in the common room, but the discovery of Brynn's presence upon hearing her talk had extinguished the intention almost completely. However, at first, Lysandra felt particularly courageous--courageous enough to willing be in the same room as Brynn. Ultimately, Lysandra had hoped that Fate would provide an ample opportunity to confront the girl to spite her, perhaps an opportunity to provoke her in some way. Once Antigone's angelic voice was heard answering to Brynn, Lysandra's jealousy had awakened. At one point in time the three shared words and company together, but now Lysandra was no longer included. Lysandra had hoped to stay cordial acquaintances with Tig, but Brynn seemed to always render that impossible at every turn. Who knows how Brynn had been manipulating all of Lys' friends to hate her--all Lys knew was that Brynn was succeeding. And Lysandra utterly loathed her for it.
<br>
<br>Lysandra's strength of hate towards Brynn filtered into her thoughts about men as she clutched to the wall more and more with anger. She gave herself a moment to collect herself before taking a leap into a den of lionesses. Perhaps her new-born masochism was some unholy form of penitence for her sins. She deserved the word 'mudblood.' She deserved to burn for her lies and her unholy nature. Why not try to acclimate herself to the flames?
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<br>Brett would probably hate her for what she was about to do.
<br>
<br>She strutted in like she was on a mission with her high nose guiding her to the piano. Quickly she shot out a "good day to you" and continued strictly on course. She produced sheets of music from thin air with the use of her wand and organized them upon the piano's shelf.
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<br>"Do you mind if I practice?" Her demeanor was cool, but her hands burned with rage. She felt tormented for acting like this, but it was the best she could do with such anxiety. She had been trying for weeks to discipline herself, to humble herself, but she had reached a breaking point. Hell hath no fury like a woman's bottled up scorn.

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tag: Olive/Soph | outfit: Slytherin robes, fancy scarves and pointed witch's hat | notes: --<br/>
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Brynn could see the blush in Tig's cheeks. Brynn was sure that if Tig was blushing, she was going to blush soon. Brynn didn't feel worried about talking about boys, though. She just felt anxious whenever she had to spent her time with one who was not her brother. She figured that it was only a matter of time for her to feel more comfortable with them but, for now, she just didn't want to be among them. Especially most of the Quidditch players ( with the exception on Andren Lovegood, of course, he was the only boy Brynn couldn't feel anxious with).<p>

When Brynn saw Lysandra, she looked at her nonchalantly. Why did she want here? Did she even have to ask them? Brynn was sure that the mudblood just wanted to take their attention, make them notice her. Brynn knew how lonely she felt and, if she was a better person, she would probably sympathize with her. But, right now, the only thing Brynn could think that Lysandra was hoping that she and Tig will ask them to join their conversation. Even if Brynn was curious to see how Lysandra felt about boys ( she was surely in love with that loser, Lovegood) she didn't want her to be around.<p>

" I do not mind." she replied nonchalantly and looked at Tig. " Do you, Tig?" she asked her friend and then looked back at Lysandra.

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tag: Antigone, Lysandra | outfit: here | notes: ugh short >.><br/>
made by Emily exclusively for Charming</div></div></center>[/dohtml]

[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Antigone wasn't really sure what she made of the truth about Lysandra's background. Her initial feeling was that the fact that she was angry at her for having deceived both her and Brynn so effortlessly for so long and then of course there was the fact that she was muggleborn. Antigone wasn't bombarded to an extreme extent by pureblood ideology at home but she was a conformist at heart and those she felt worthy of socializing with, at least outwardly put emphasis on blood purity then so did she. It was an easy choice to make, she thought; Brynn who still had the respect of the other Slytherins or Lysandra who had fallen from other's good opinion. It was a no-brainer to her. That being said, Tig privately missed it being the three of them but she wouldn't ever say so. <p>
Brynn saw Lysandra first, Antigone turning to follow her line of vision to see the other fourth year girl. Her forehead creased into a slight frown and she shook her head in response to Brynn's question. Lysandra had guts and a sense of headstrong shamelessness that Tig quite envied. She seemed not to care about what people thought (at least that's how it appeared to her) whereas Antigone cared too much. "No... I do not," she finally said, confirming what she had meant by the shake of her head verbally.
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<br>created by kay of caution and sds</div></div></center>[/dohtml]

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Antigone, an illustrious wonder-eyed beauty who was the pinnacle of perfection--soft spoken and fair, she would be a lady of great desire to a man who was looking to wed an angel for his house. She was modest too, especially modest about men, as could be gathered from the conversation as well as her everyday interaction with them; again, it was another great quality of her sex. Her beauty was beyond means, and her manners much more conforming and affable that Lysandra's. It was no wonder that the boys at Hogwarts swooned for her. When it came to the dynamic trio of Brynn, Tig, and Lys, Lysandra took upon the role of "protecting" the girls from the skeezy boys confronting them by acting arrogant and evil, thus shooing them away from classy girls like themselves. Had Brynn, Tig, and even Lysandra herself figured out why, Brynn and Tig would never speak to Lysandra again. Especially Tig. Maybe just being around Tig flared Lysandra's jealousy all around.
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<br>Lysandra gave no response except "then proceed I will" and lifted the case from the keys.
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<br>The title of the music score on the piano read "Greensleeves." Christmas was coming on the horizon, and in the event of her return home to her family, she would need to prepare to entertain guests over the holidays with music. She decided to take on Greensleeves, a delicate piece that was quite a classic among holiday music, a favorite of Hillary's and her parents. It was a difficult choice for Lysandra, but it was not too too far from her range of mastery.
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<br>She began to start off softly. After progressing through a page or two, she ceased. "You may continue your conversation," and she started the song over.

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tag: Soph/Olive | outfit: -- | notes: Greensleeves<br/>
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Brynn looked at Lysandra playing the piano for a while, untill the other Slytherin told them they could continue their conversation. Although Brynn hated thinking that she was envious of a mudblood, she quite liked the way she played the piano and wished she could also play herself. If Brynn could remember well, there was a piano in her house but nobody really played at it. She also knew that her sister-in-law's sister, Elaine was a good piano player, but she had never listened her play.<p>

Brynn felt quite uncomfortable talking with the sound of the Christmas melody surrounding the room but, if she didn't speak then Lysandra would think that she was enjoying her music and, even if Brynn actually enjoyed her, she didn't want Lysandra to know.<p>

" I am sure that my husband will most likely be a Bulstrode or a Rosier." Brynn continued with a shrug. " I guess that my parents will want me to marry someone pureblood and wealthy." she continued and then, she sighed quite lightly and confessed something to Tig," I don't mind them but, the fact that they are all my distant relatives makes it too, weird. I wish I had more freedom when it comes to choosing my husband. There are a lot of pureblood families out there."

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tag : lys, tig | notes : here | outfit : this
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Antigone, no matter how hard she was trying to put on the 'cold shoulder act' could not deny that Lysandra played the piano enviably well. Tig herself knew how to play and was more than proficient but it was difficult to appreciate the sound one made with the instrument fully when they were preoccupied with getting the notes right. Listening to the music was far more relaxing for her than actually producing it; she wasn't on show to be judged when she listened. <p>
She was not so fussed as Brynn about talking over the music, though she was a little unsettled about continuing the prior conversation, nevertheless she forced herself to. "I do not know who my parents will match me with... Perhaps a gentleman from Germany or Luxembourg... Though I should hope not, I should loathe to leave all my friends here." She didn't really have that many friends, truth be told, but she wasn't about to admit that especially not when she had yet to realize it properly for herself. <p>
Quite without thinking she suddenly blurted out, "What about the Burkes?" The second she realized what she had said, her eyes widened slightly and she forced herself to look away and coincidentally at Lysandra at the piano. She hesitated a brief second before forcing herself to look directly at Brynn again.
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This was lovely. Not just the piano playing, but the quiet discomfort in the room. The pulses of the strange energy energy could be felt between them as the music was providing such cognitive dissonance.
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<br>And speaking of dissonance, every note played my Lysandra so far was perfectly along with the music. Beautifully moving within conventional tone, Lysandra kept playing softly while she listened to the conversation. As soft as Lysandra was to the touch, her fury towards Brynn was still rising. Talk of blood purity had as of late caused Lysandra's blood to boil over, and with Brynn's comment about marrying blood excited the girl despite the calming presence of the music.
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<br>And speaking of the music, Lysandra was now moving into the complex chord changes of the score. Moving into such uncharted territory, she began to make some mistakes as she trudged through. She wondered if some of those mistakes were on purpose or accidental, but it didn't matter. She was still practicing, right? She eventually broke the stride to review some low end parts with her left hand to get it just right.
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<br>Lysandra still did not say anything while she played. She kept plugging away at the keys, allowing her frustrations to drive her focus to learn the music. Her hands still burned and tingled, as if they were preparing for a crescendo of some kind.
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tag: Soph/Olive | outfit: -- | notes: Greensleeves<br/>
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Brynn was not sure whether her parents would be interested in her marrying a Burke. They were an old, wizarding family, but she doubted that her parents would take them seriously. Besides, Brynn barely knew their family anyway. She only knew that a boy carrying that last name was playing Quidditch in her house's team. " I really doubt it, Tig." she replied with a shrug.<p>

Brynn sighed and threw a quick glance towards Lysandra who seemed to have trouble playing the piano. She had started particularly well but now, she was messing up with notes and, Brynn could barely stop herself from laughing. She was not talking to Sutherland. They were not friends and she would care less if the mudblood couldn't play the piano properly.<p>

" I just wish my husband is not someone as old as my father." Brynn concluded quietly. " Imagine how terrible it would be!" Brynn couldn't understand that. Some of them were marrying for a second time but, she also knew that many of them didn't. This was just stupid and insane. Why would someone wait untill hitting an extremly old age in order to marry? Especially if he was rich. How could they possibly accept to marry a woman who could pefectly be their daughter. Brynn sincerely wished that she was going to have Clarissa's luck and marry someone barely older than her.

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tag : lys, tig | notes : here | outfit : this
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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Antigone glanced over at Lysandra once more as the music seemed to take a turn for the worse. It made her wince slightly as she heard the few bad notes in the music and wanted very much to do something about it but dared not for the sake of both Brynn and Lys and where she stood with the pair of them. She assumed Lys would be angered by it and wasn't sure if Brynn would be best pleased by her speaking to her, even if it was borderline chastisement. She satisfied her need to express her observance of the music by shooting Lysandra a stare that perhaps communicated a little more than she meant it to. <p>
She was almost glad to hear Brynn was not likely to be matched with Elijah. She still harbored a crush for him and though nothing had yet to come of it, she was still hopeful. This smugness was perhaps clear from the way that she smiled slightly to herself, almost slyly in that she tried to hide it by turning her face away slightly. <p>
"Oh no! I should not like to wed a man who is terribly old and boring! I think I should die of boredom!" she drawled dramatically. "Though what if he was terribly handsome and gentlemanly, what should you do then? I should not fancy him in the slightest!" She didn't particularly want a perfect gentleman for a husband. That didn't mean she wanted a complete social embarrassment, on the contrary, she just wanted a man who didn't quite stick to social expectations at all times. She liked a little daring, a little excitement, as unladylike as it might be.
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The power of the piano was taking her places. It had been quite some time since Lysandra had practiced the craft, always sacrificing and obsessing her time to study things Animagus related as always. Something about her performance however touched upon that study as if something was singing out and speaking to her. The tumultuous waves of musical expression were radiating into the air, 'terrible' in both meanings of the word as she danced around that keys like a devilish imp with hot fingers. Determination overtook her as she reiterated musical phrases several times over, emphasizing each phrase with more and more dynamic volume and strength. The lull of the Christmas music was almost completely diminished at this juncture as she began getting heavier, and more repetitive on the keys.

Discomfort was in the air, and the evil girl was reveling. Tensions were building as the two girls were anticipating Lysandra's next musical move. If Lysandra had desired attention, she sure had it now. She kept a quick cadence going, entranced by what was on the sheet, trying to get it all right piece by piece. She played it deftly and in tone despite her quick yet strong playing style that was unveiling itself by each passing moment. A performance was unfolding before the girls' eyes, and at any moment she was waiting for the roses to be thrown.

What a boring, depressing day until now. The feeling of ostracism was now fading fast. Or perhaps it was that feeling of ostracism coming under Lysandra's control rather than from her peers. The control seethed through her fingers as she mastered each phrase. She was putting it all together, however awkward.

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Brynn was not sure about what her dream husband would be like. The only sure thing was that she wanted him to be tall, taller than her so she wouldn't look ridiculous while walking by him. She always felt uncomfortable about her height and, the fact that she was towering some boys was not especially pleasant.<p>

" Clarissa is engaged to a french gentleman." Brynn commented. " Monsieur Javert de Montfault. He is just four or five years older than her and member of the Wizangamod." And french. Maybe her parents were going to choose someone from France as well. Brynn couldn't help but think that Clarissa was lucky, since her fiance was actually a bit handsome, even though he was weird. Well, this wouldn't be a problem for Clarry anyway, since she was extremly weird herself. They were going to be a perfect match.<p>

Once silence followed, Brynn glanced at Lysandra who, didn't seem to play the peaceful Christmas song. The song she was playing seemed full of anger in Brynn's ears but she decided to not comment it. It was clear that the mudblood wanted attention, and Brynn was not going to give it to her. " My wedding dress will surely be a Worth one." Brynn said to Antigone, trying to not show how bothered she was by Lysandra's attempt to gain attention.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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Antigone smirked, "If only I had a brother, you could marry him and then we could be sisters!" She thought she would quite like having Brynn as a sister. As far as sisters-in-law went, she figured Brynn would have been a very good one. Tig wished she did have a brother or two, she thought they would be far more entertaining than her sisters. <p>
"I do love a wedding! The dresses are always so terribly fashionable!" she gushed, her face displaying a fair amount of enthusiasm. Meanwhile, the music Lysandra was churning out seemed to be getting more and more violent. "Vous jouez donc très agressive!**" she suddenly blurted out in Lys' direction, as if saying it in French would make it sound better. Perhaps it did. There was a perplexed expression on her face bordering on an outright scowl, though not quite. <p>
Turning back to Brynn, she gave her friend a sheepish glance, regretting having spoken out and feeling slightly embarrassed by it. "Yes... Worth... Worth dresses are breathtaking..."<p>
<p>**You play so very aggressively!</div></div>

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{{Sorry it's dreadful! And short. >.<}}

The french slithered and shivered into Lysandra's ears beyond the noise of the piano. It took a moment for Lysandra's mind to adjust to the new language, and to translate what Antigone had said. Tig's spoken diction was authentic and always lovely to the ears as Lysandra always had thought, and admired. It had been a long time since they had shared words in the language of love, and an upheaval of nostalgia began tugging at Lysandra's heart strings.

But the discussion currently in English was still continuing to anger the girl. Despite her own sophomoric actions, Lysandra could not help but feel that the discussion between Brynn and Tig was altogether trite and aggravating. It was also certainly much more. Like an aversion to the taste of certain foods developed in the young years of life, as too was this notion of man and woman. Why it had developed this way was beyond Lysandra's full understanding. The only tangible symptom thus far in her life were the knots in her stomach at the talk of such things. As much as she dare try to overcome such feelings, she sadly could not. The feeling was an ulcerous burning sensation, and not even the joy and wonder of the Christmas music "Greensleeves" could assuage the sickening feeling, no matter how hard she pounded the keys, nor how sweetly soft they sounded as she plucked them so at certain times. It was merely the voice of Antigone, the sweet and tragic princess Antigone, that mitigated those feelings. Give me more of that music , Lysandra thought to herself.

But she was obviously held in contempt, not only of her unnatural feelings, but because Brynn had driven such a wedge between Lysandra and her friends.

Lysandra had come to a realization that now seemed so obvious. She was not as mad at Antigone as she was with Brynn. She loathed Brynn for what she had done in the past, mainly for being the front-runner in exposing Lysandra as a muggleborn, and even going extra lengths to do so. But Lysandra knew she could not stay mad at Antigone, even though Tig's overall inaction in the matter wounded Lysandra deeply. And right now Lysandra was making a fool out of herself. It was obvious Lysandra stirred the blood of Tig, rather than her intended target, Brynn.

Lysandra had already stopped playing at this point in moment of reflection. Perhaps it looked as if she was reading over the music, but in reality she was compiling all of her thoughts together. And then it hit her. Mid way into the conversation between Brynn and Tig, Lysandra had spoken up.

Lysandra turned her head as far as it could turn to see the two talking behind her. She spoke with a calm, non-hostile tone. "Miss Baudelaire, could you please fetch a quill for me? I seem to have misplaced mine. My apologies for such a favor. I would like to mark some of this music, if I could."

Lysandra seemed innocent enough.

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Brynn needed a couple of minutes to understand what Antigone had said in french. The Slytherin was familiar with the language, but she didn't speak it every day. Her parents always cared about her education and Brynn figured that she would have to know french, especially if she was going to marry someone from France, like Clarissa.<p>

Tig's comment made her giggle and she turned her eyes to Lysandra, wondering what her reaction would be. Was she going to cry? Lysandra always seemed to run away crying when someone insulted her. The blonde would most likely start crying and then run straight to that chicken Andren Lovegood. Who knew, maybe they would marry each other in the future and have a bunch of worthless squibs as children.<p>

What Lysandra did, though, was to ask Antigone for a quill. Brynn raised and eyebrow. What did this mudblood want? Couldn't she get a quill alone? Merlin, that was the reason accio was invented.

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[dohtml]<center><div style="width: 335px; height: 30px; background-color: #4a0c25; -moz-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; -webkit-border-radius: 10px 10px 0px 0px; margin-left: 117px; font-family: trebuchet ms; font-size: 8px; color: #fff; text-align: center; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: #000 1px 1px 0px; letter-spacing: 7px;"><div style="padding-top: 5px;">The key to good eavesdropping is not getting caught</div></div>

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The music had stopped. Completely. Antigone had not expected it to halt completely and as such she glanced over her shoulder at the other girl to see if there was some problem or other (that and she was naturally nosy) and she rather wished she had not for she was suddenly requested for a quill.<p>
Tig briefly glanced at Brynn with a perplexed look on her face and then back again at Lysandra. She wasn't quite sure what to do. On the one hand she could follow through and fetch a quill for the girl but then what if Brynn were to disapprove of her doing so and more importantly, why should she?! However, she was curious as to why she had been asked and Lys had not just asked another or gotten it herself and so she decided she would relent on this occasion though she'd make it known she wasn't a willing servant. <p>
Looking between her friend and former friend with a dissatisfied expression, she rose to her feet and slowly went to fetch one of the spare quills that could sometimes be found left lying around by the more careless members of the house. Picking up the quill, she walked over to Lysandra - leaving a good two feet or so between them - and extended her arm with the quill held between her fingertips. "You'll need ink," she stated stonily, wondering whether she should have spoken at all. Were they meant to be speaking to her, even if it was minimally civil and out of necessity not desire?
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Before the bold request for a quill had left Lysandra's lips, a moment of hesitation hung on her chest, even above the excitement of finding an ample opportunity to speak. Deep down, it was Antigone's presence that Lysandra desired. Lysandra's timid attempt for even the slightest communication would be better than nothing, and so like a death defying leap of faith Lysandra had hoped to break the glacier between them. The moment's hesitation was soon removed at the thought of how Brynn could react from such a startling move.

Of course, after Lysandra shot out the request, the advantage made itself more apparent. Brynn's startled looks completely gratified the situation, giving Lysandra the much needed boost of confidence. Lysandra made sure to hide her excitement though, for she did not want to overplay her hand, especially against Brynn. Certainly the odds are in their favor, Lysandra felt, so she contained herself to seem as genuine as possible. And for acting genuinely, it was still simple -- she really did want Antigone to be her confidant once again. Of course, minus Brynn,

"Thank you, Miss Baudelaire. I certainly appreciate this gesture. I would have summoned a quill myself. Silly me, I forgot where I placed it! We all make mistakes sometimes. You can understand that, I hope?" Subliminal and subtle were her words. Lysandra nodded her head up and down very slightly, her nose up in the air, conventionally.

Lysandra drew a corked well of ink from her cloak and spoke bluntly. "Obviously a quill needs ink. I happened to bring the ink without the pen."

Lysandra brightened her face further to emphasize her next welcoming gesture. "Antigone, I know you are a refined lady of your sex, and I understand your joy of music. Might I ask you, have you ever learned to read music? How are you on the piano? I know we have discussed music on several occasion, but please refresh my memory. Brynn says that you do not play, but I am sure someone of your grace can handle something as delicate and beautiful as this."

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Antigone wasn't quite sure what she was in the middle of. It was awkward and she wasn't entirely sure what she ought to do. She could tell Brynn wasn't prepared to associate with Lysandra again and all her senses told her that associating with a mudblood was vulgar but then Lysandra had still been her friend and she hadn't been an awful friend at all... But no, no she was a mudblood. A filthy mudblood who had lied to them for years! And yet... she couldn't find it within herself to hate her, resent her and feel betrayed but not hate. <p>
As she was thanked, Tig said nothing but continued to hover by the piano for a moment or so, debating whether to return to her seat and whether she ought to say something. She shifted slightly and looked over her shoulder to Brynn and shot her a look of conflicted horror and disgust at the situation she was in. And then she was addressed. <p>
Tig turned her face to look at Lys as she was spoken to once again, not having expected to be spoken to again unless it pertained to the ink or quill. The young blonde gaped for a split second or so at her, unsettled by her boldness before frowning and finally giving a reply. "Of course I can play!" she snapped, wondering whether Lysandra was lying about Brynn having claimed she couldn't. Tig loathed playing the piano - specifically practicing - but she could play all the same. "Why do you care to know?" she demanded, still frowning rather petulantly.
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Lysandra figured she would meet resistance. For a second she thought she shouldn't push any further, for it probably wouldn't change the seemingly irreparable damage caused by Brynn and the Daily Prophet. But what did it really matter? She was already at odds with the girls. No sense in backing down now.

Lysandra had mentally prepared for the worst. She could see Tig's frustration level on the rise, and the facial ticks of Tig's towards Brynn were rather obvious. Lysandra held her calm aplomb and proceeded to assuage Tig's anxiety.

"Might I ask, what is the need for such a defensive attitude, especially this close to the holiday? I am merely asking you to open your heart to the Christmas spirit and gift us a tune, as I am sure you are able. Surely one as delicate as yourself can best my stumbling fingers." Lysandra then patted the piano seat, awaiting Tig's retort.

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Tig stared at the other girl with contempt, frustrated by the fact that she did not know exactly what Lysandra was up to. That and she felt as though she was being manipulated for some reason and she wasn't sure what she ought to do to escape the situation. Brynn wasn't being any help either in her silence and for all that she wanted an out, Antigone could find none. <p>
Her cheeks flushed as she was called out on her defensiveness and she had half a mind to interrupt Lysandra and deny that she was anything of the sort but managed to hold her tongue and listen to the challenge of sorts that was being laid down for her. <p>
She continued to stare at Lysandra for a good few seconds before flouncing onto the piano bench rather cantankerously. She didn't speak but rather frowned and placed her fingers upon the keys of the piano before she removed them again and finally spoke. "What is it you wish me to play?"
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