estella_star (estella_star) wrote in hogwarts_05,


Estella was working with a picture and a spellotape. She was pasting together a picture of a red-headed girl with a pretty face and intelligent eyes. The edges were ripped roughly and the librairy was empty except for her, alone in a corner. She got frustrated with the picture and tore it up again, carefully placing the pieces in the waste basket, only to gently pick them up again and start over. Her black hair fell in front of her face. She had not slept. She had lots of black makeup, eyeliner, shadow, everything. Her lips were a deep blood. She finally finished the picture, placed it carefully in a book, and got up to leave, halfway to the door, Estella bumped into someone. She screamed and fainted, and the book skid across the floor, out of sight.
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Rantoul, shocked, looked down at the girl. Seeing as she was unconcious, he kneeled down and shook her gently. "I'm really sorry...are you alright? Can I take you to the infirmary?"

He was pretty sure he had seen her before. It was hard to miss all that black makeup.
Estella remained unconcious, and, being unconcious, couldn't register what was happening. Her book was wedged into a shelf, and it looked like a librairy book, just hanging out a bit.
After a few more fruitless seconds, during which Rantoul imagined all the awful ways he could be punished for killing a fellow student, he stood up and tried to figure out what to do.

He saw the book peeking out from the shelf, and thought it strange that their draconian librarian had not caught that error. When he reached to push it back in, however, Rantoul noticed that it was not a library book at all. Curious, he opened it.
The Book. The book was Estella's journal. Inside, in teeny, almost illedgeable half-cursive, were entrys, photos, drawings, poems, songs, sketches, doodles, and lots of random writing. Thoughts were scribbled, and ink was smeared. Estella had never, ever intended for anyone else to see it, and the front of the journal was plain, black leather. Nothing fancy, nothing intricate. She had painted a silver eye on the front, and the center of the silver eye, was red. Bright, blood, unfriendly red. It did not look like something a normal person would like to touch.
Rantoul shut the book, uncomfortable. How very very odd, he thought, placing the book gently beside her.

He wasn't sure how to wake her up again. Having slept through most of his healing classes, Rantoul was clueless. The only thing he could think of, while unpleasant, would probably work.

Grabbing an empty wastebin as he ran out the door, Rantoul dipped the makeshift bucket into a nearby fountain, and then skidded back to where the girl was lying. He pushed the strange book away, then threw the water on her, being ready to run if the girl retaliated.
Estella's eyes burst open and runny makeup ran down in streams from her eyes. She sat bolt up right as if someone had hit her, and looked abruptlly around for the person who had woken her up. After a few seconds, she realized that her photo and journal were missing.
"My book!" She thought. "Where is my book! Oh no! Someone has it, someone has it!" She began shifting her eyes wildly, then began to stand, when the buckle on her shoe bumped into something. It was her book. She picked up, hugged it to her chest, and began to walk very slowly out the door. She spotted a boy, bearing Gryffindor colors not far from where she was, and began to watch him with a curious look. His hand were wet, could he have been the one that woke her up? That dumped the water on her. Could he? Was he trying to wake her up, or just challenge her, beacause she was Slytherin-was this a joke? Did-Estella tripped and a stone ledge, her book flew out of her arms and landed on the ground and SPLASH!
Estella landed in a fountain. It was not her day, of course, no day was. Estella dipped he head under the water, turning it inky black. She thought about it and came up from under it, Her knees over the ledge, her body in the water, her head in her hands. Her long, black, wet hair was sticking everywhere, including her clothes and face. She wondered if anyone would notice her here, she looked around for her book, hoping it had not also landed in the fountain. She found it on the ground nearby, where she could watch it safely. Estella relaxed in the water, letting her skirt and sweater get sopping.
"Will people find me here?" She wondered. "Will they care?"
Rantoul looked at her, horrified. First, he had damn near killed her, then she had freaked out and jumped in a fountain. Unbelievable. "I'm sorry, really I am," he said, looking like a perfect idiot. "Is there anything...I mean, can I help you get out of there?"

After an awkward pause, he added, "I, ah, know a sort of a drying spell. Maybe that would be useful? Though I don't know how well it'll work if you're standing in the water."

Gingerly, he picked up the strange book, holding it carefully in his dry hand. Although he thought it odd, obviously it meant something to her. b
Estella blinked at him, then slowly and cautiously reached out a hand to be pulled up from the fountain, not really knowing at all who this person was. She blinked again, a bit stupidly, and then finished reaching out her hand.
An uneasy smile appeared on Rantoul's face. Carefully, he helped the girl out of the fountain. "Really, I, ah...terribly sorry, ah..." Though his skin was too dark to see, he suddenly felt warm and foolish.

"I don't know your name," he finished. "I'm Rantoul. Here," the boy added, impulsivly, "you look cold. Take my coat." Quickly he whipped it off and held it out, as if to place it on her shoulders.
Estella let the boy help her out of the fountain, and he took off his coat, as if to put it on her. She let him slip the coat on to her shoulders and she looked up at him. He told her his name. And she reached out her hand so he could shake it.
"Es-." She sighed a big, long sigh. "I'm-Estella." She finished. "I, uh, I'm sorry. That you, er, had to go to all this trouble. I'm normally. I-um, can I have my book back?" Estella was amazed with herself. Thease were the most words she had said to anyone scince Jazz's death. She had almost made an actual scentence, somthing she didn't do very much. A tear rolled down her cheek, and she gently brushed it away with a long, pale finger. "Thank You." She sighed and wrapped the jacket around her shoulders.
Rantoul handed it to her, looking regretfully at his coat. Though he knew it was terrible to think, especially as he watched her tear move down her cheek, he hoped his coat wasn't ruined.

Why did they always cry?

"No, don't be sorry," he said, calmly, having recovered from his embarassment. "I should have looked where I was going. My name's Rantoul, Estella." He held out the book. "Will you be alright? If you like, you can just bring my coat to the Gryffindor common room. Keep it as long as you like."
"I'm alright." Estella came to her sences. HE WAS A GRYFFINDOR! She gave him his coat back. "Thanks." She finished coldly. She couldn't interact with a Gryffindor. Not-just not possible. She clutched her book in her hands and walked towrds the Slytherin commen room briskly.
He held the dripping coat in his hand, confused, as he watched her walk away.

"What a weird turn of events that was," he muttered, looking sadly at his coat. Then he flicked his wand at it, and the coat dried until it was only damp.

Throwing it over his shoulder, he walked away, looking back once for Estella. She had already vanished.