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[Lysistrata Lestrange]

Ingmar Vinter

Early November, 1877
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
The Library

Perhaps it was a blessing that Lysistrata had been shielded from much of the stigma that was a direct result of her father's sentence to life in Azkaban just two years prior. Then again, perhaps it was also a curse as being kept in the shadows had allowed the gossips to run wild with their stories. She was fairly certain, given her brother's reaction to his first year at Hogwarts, that people had a certain image of Tybalt Lestrange's children and it would be very difficult to shatter that image. Already Lysistrata had endured strange looks and a bit of giggling with a grace beyond her years that would likely surprise Aunt Olivia. Of course she'd also committed every face and name to memory that had mocked her; they would get their comeuppance. But for now, she would keep her head down until she could determine which of her fellow classmates would prove to be worthy allies and which she could continue to ignore or worse.

Aside from the constant silent surveillance of her peers, Lysistrata also had her school work to keep her occupied. It was no surprise that the young girl took a liking to Defense Against the Dark Arts though a few eyebrows had been raised at what the girl of eleven already knew. Then again, most expected it of her. Still, how could she help the way she'd been raised? A single father who was more interested in the Dark Arts than his own children. A half senile and sometimes violent governess. It was a wonder that she wasn't half as mad as her father; though, I suppose it depended upon who was asked.

A crisp fall afternoon found the ofttimes quiet first year in the Library in search of a particular reference book so that she might better understand the current topic of interest in her DADA lessons and of course to finish her assigned writing assignment. She'd already laid her things out just so on one of the long tables and began her search. It took her a few moments to find the proper aisle and then the section. Though when she got to the particular shelf she was looking for, there was a boy standing in front of it a book in his hand. Quickly she scanned the shelf then finding the book she was looking for was not there, she shifted so that she could better see what the boy was holding. There it was!

Lysistrata shifted her gaze to the boy's face and thought that he looked vaguely familiar. After two whole minutes of staring she finally realized that he was in fact in her house and year, though she was hard pressed to recall his name as she was certain it was something foreign; not that her own was a breeze. After another full minute of silent staring she finally spoke. "I need that book." Her face was somber and very nearly void of all expression, just as her voice was nothing more or less than that of a young well bred lady, giving no hint to her emotions, not that she particularly had any at the moment aside from mild annoyance.

[Ingmar Vinter]

There was one thing Ingmar loved the most about the library: It was quiet. No talking was allowed, and even if people could whisper Ingmar always refused to if anyone needed something from him. It was the perfect excuse. He couldn’t talk because he was in the library. Ingmar really didn’t want to talk. It wasn’t something he had always hated. This is had only started since he had come to Hogwarts. His family had just moved to England from Sweden the year before, and they all still had very strong accents when they spoke English. Ingmar had always known how to speak English. He’d been taught in Sweden, because his parents wanted him to learn it. And he had not disappointed them. However, the accent still stuck around because, even though they all spoke English out in public, Ingmar’s family continued speaking Swedish in the privacy of their home.

The accent had bugged Ingmar ever since they had moved into their new home. He felt like it made it stand out too much, and he didn’t like it. And now that he was at school, he seemed to be the only one there who spoke with an accent like his. If there was anyone else, he hadn’t met them. It only made him even more aware of how much he must have stood out because he didn’t have the protection of his family. There was no one to blend in with. So Ingmar had started going to the library. It was the perfect place to go when you didn’t want to talk to anyone, and for Ingmar that was a lot. To pass the time, he had started reading whatever random books in the library looked interesting. When he realized that it was starting to help him more in his classes, Ingmar just started putting more effort into his searches. He wanted to find the books that would teach things he wouldn’t find out until the next year or the one after.

Today he had been drawn to books concerning the dark arts. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher had suggested it to him one day when Ingmar had approached them about something in class. Ingmar had shown interest in pursuing the topic they had discussed in class further. Apparently impressed with his interest in the subject, they had given him the name of the book and Ingmar had come in search of it. It hadn’t taken him very long to find it, and Ingmar was just examining the cover of the book when someone disturbed him.

When he looked up, Ingmar recognized the girl right away. She was Lysistrata Lestrange, if he was remembering correctly. They were in the same house and year, and many of his fellow students had suggested that he stay away from her. Ingmar knew why, even without them needing to explain. It was because of her father and the incident at the ministry. The incident wasn’t anything new to him, considering that Ingmar and his family had heard about it straight from his father, the Swedish Liaison to the Ministry. It had happened not long after the family had arrived in England. Thinking of what he father did made her stare incredibly disconcerting, and Ingmar couldn’t help shifting his feet a bit, as if he wanted to leave. And part of him did, but he wasn’t going to show it. There was no way he was going to let her scare him. So instead he simply told her, ”I’m sorry, but I need it too. And I did find it first.” The sound of his own voice was annoying, still full of his accent.

[Lysistrata Lestrange]

Lysistrata saw the look of recognition followed by the boy’s shifting feet and a part of her reveled in the clear discomfort while another part of her despised it. It was all well and good to be left alone, but quite another for people to think that she was some crazed monster because of what her father had done. As far as the socialites were concerned, she had bad blood and were it not for the strength of her family she very well might have been completely shunned. But still, despite the fact that some of the words of her peers affected her far more than they should, she did rather like the wide berth she was given.

Yet, despite her undeserved reputation, this boy merely stood there for what seemed like an eternity looking at her before finally replying in his accented English. She’d nearly forgotten that he was the son of some Dutch or Norwegian ambassador. His words, while they sounded strange were understandable and filled her with annoyance. Her eyes narrowed and she folded her arms over her chest, ignoring a blonde head that poked around the corner to see what all the fuss was about.

”I need that book.” She repeated, enunciating the words rather clearly. And she did need it. It would add so much more depth to her report which would of course lead to an Outstanding mark on her assignment. Not only that but she would be that much more informed, know that much more than the next person. Then there was the fact that she wasn’t used to sharing or waiting. She’d only ever had to share with her brother until recently and even then he wasn’t interested in the same things as she was so the occurrence of sharing rarely took place.

[Ingmar Vinter]

Ingmar wasn't sure if she was trying to seem more intimidating or if it just something she did naturally. It was certainly something she was good at, but he still wasn't one to back down. In fact, no matter who she was and what reputation she had, Ingmar would have felt embarrassed to know that he had let a girl the better of him in anyway. His pride was the only thing keeping him from backing off, though. Ingmar did feel a need to put some space between the two of them, but he tried to ignore it. Everything he heard was just a rumor, Ingmar told himself. She was just a girl, like every other girl at the school. Yes, she was a Slytherin girl and he was aware that his fellow housemates didn't have the greatest reputation. Still, he tried to convince himself that she couldn't be capable of anything as bad as her father was.

He looked down at the book again as she repeated her question. "Yes, you've said that," Ingmar replied, wondering if she was ever going to say anything else. That couldn't be the only thing she was able to say. The thought was just ridiculous. For someone who was apparently trying to be threatening, she hadn't done much so far. "You're...Miss..." What was her name again? Lestrange, he knew. He'd heard her first name too, but what was it? It was complicated, Ingmar remembered that much. "You're a Lestrange, correct?" Ingmar settled on that. If she wanted him to call her anything else, she would let him know.

"I'm sure there is another book you could use," he suggested, attempted to be as polite as possible while still remaining possessive over the book in his hands. Ingmar could hear his parents in his head, reminding him that he had to be a little gentleman while he was at school. They were trusting him to know how to behave himself, he remembered being told. "As I said, I found this one first," and with that reminder he, rather uncomfortably, turned his back on her to leave.

[Lysistrata Lestrange]

Intimidation was something that often came naturally to the members of the Lestrange family; in their own way each of her Aunts and Uncles were rather intimidating and her own brother could be downright spooky sometimes. Still, it wasn’t something she tried to do; it just happened. She’d come to expect the usual behavior from people; cowering and fidgeting but when the boy in front of her showed very few signs that she was breaking him down, she found herself surprised; it didn’t show however as her expression remained slightly annoyed.

As he looked down at the book in question, she raised a brow as though she fully expected him to hand it over but when that didn’t happen and he simply asked the dumbest question she’d ever heard she narrowed her eyes. Of course she was a Lestrange! What sort of halfwit was he? Well, clearly not as the book in his hands wasn’t exactly an easy read, but still. Everyone knew who she was; her father’s sentencing had been rather public after all. Her dark eyes flashed with annoyance then actual anger as the boy suggested she find another book and then walked away. Walked away!

She stood there, watching as he made his way down the aisle then clenching her jaw, she stalked after him, her little gloved hands clenched at her sides. This was positively ridiculous! How dare he just dismiss her and her needs? She followed him back to his table which surprisingly was the same table where she’d set up her little studying station and rather than go and find another book as he’d suggested she instead stood there, a less than amused look on her face and stared at him as he settled himself down to read. She would have that book!

[Ingmar Vinter]

Ingmar forced himself to resist the urge to look over his shoulder as he returned to his table. He felt more than a little uncomfortable turning his back on Lysistrata, but he wasn't going to show it. Intimidation was something that only worked if you gave into it, he'd always heard. And he doubted she would do anything to him, especially in the library where she would get in trouble for it. And, Ingmar reminded himself, it was perfectly ridiculous to let the rumors floating around get to him. After all, rumors were usually nothing more than false, and it wouldn't be logical to let rumors get to him.

So, he sat down at his table again, noting that someone else had set their things at the same table, and began to read. For a while, he took little notice of much else around him. As he read, Ingmar had some paper out that he was using to take notes on, in case he wanted to refer to them later, and his attention was entirely focused on this task. Eventually, he did look up from the book to rest his mind and go over the notes he had so far, and it was then that it Ingmar got the feeling someone was watching him. Hesitating for a moment, because he knew her could easily be wrong about it, Ingmar turned around and jumped a little in surprise when he saw Lysistrata standing there.

"...How long have you been here?" was the first thing he thought to ask her. She was certainly a determined girl, he noted to himself. It was a little impressive that she was willing to stick with this book, but mostly it was a bit annoying and the way she had followed Ingmar only unsettled him even more. "...Do you need the book that badly?"

[Lysistrata Lestrange]

For one so young, Lysistrata had surprising patience in that she didn't so much as blink as she stood there behind and slightly to the side of the young Swedish boy. And when he finally noticed her and jumped slightly a faint smirk, oddly reminiscent of her older brother fluttered across her lips. She didn't bother to answer his inquiry as to the length of time she'd been standing behind him. Instead she continued to stand there like as though she were carved of marble.

When he finally realized that she wasn't going to answer his first question, he asked a second and while it was hard to tell, she knew that he was annoyed; she didn't take as much pleasure in it as she might have. She was more concerned about him handing over the book so that she might glean from it all that she could. "Yes." It was all he would get at the moment and she took a step closer, holding out her hand for the book.

[Ingmar Vinter]

She certainly a stubborn one, but so was Ingmar. It appeared that she expected him to hand over the oh-so-precious book he currently had possession was. Her expectations were wrong, though. He wasn't quite ready to hand it over, so Ingmar had decided a compromise would probably be best. "We could...share it then," he told her, a little reluctant to do so. But then, he supposed she still counted as a lady despite her age. He probably counted as a gentleman as well, and as a young gentleman he knew that his parents would expect him to be polite a young lady.

That expectation was what made Ingmar stand and move to the other side of the table, along with his possessions. The only thing left at his spot was the book, still open to the page he'd been reading. Ingmar had considered moving it as well, but it would probably have been pointless. Besides, one of them would have to read it upside down. It seemed to Ingmar that the polite thing to do would be to let Lysistrata be the one to read the book right side up. Once he was settled, Ingmar did slide the book closer to the middle so that they would both be able to easily read it. Then he looked up at his new acquaintance, expecting her to take the seat he had just vacated.