Forgotten Pages

[Natasha Abban]

The rustle of turning pages and the mutter of hushed voices drifted through the Library like a fog. Natasha settled into a forgotten corner of the room, an ancient book cradled lovingly in her arms. Leaning carefully again the wall and stretched her legs out across the narrow walkway that wound its way among the towering bookcases.

Dressed in a lumpy-yet-comfortable cardigan, loose pants of indeterminate style and shape, with her auburn twisted into a messy bun that rested at the nape of her neck, Natasha was nothing to write home about. The reading glasses perched on her nose were functional at best, completing the overall picture of someone many years older than her actual age. If it were not for her unusual taste in reading spots, most students would pass her by with little to no notice.

Smiling dreamily, Natasha ran her hand lightly down the cracked and peeling cover of the book. Castilian Hubshot’s Life of Wizarding Gentry, long since proven to be almost entirely inaccurate and conscripted to out of the way bookshelves in the back of the library, remained one of Natasha’s favourite books. Full of stories detailing the lives of high-class wizard and their scandals, to say it was an entertaining read would have been an understatement. It was nearly a century old, and the only things keeping the pages and binding from disintegrating was magic and sheer perseverance. In some places, the edges of the pages had been worn away to nothing, and many of the pages sported some sort of tearing.

Flipping to one of the best, in her opinion, of the stories, Natasha shifted her weight slightly to a more comfortable position. After the day she had, she was more than ready to lose herself in the lives of wizards long gone. The last month itself had been less than stellar, but this day in particular was terrible. The worst of it was the fact that she was solely to blame. That morning at breakfast, in clear view of everyone in the hall, she tripped over her own feet and knocked over a group of smaller than usual first years. She could hear the hushed giggles and snickers making their way around the room, and the rest of the day had been spent hiding as much as legally possible from everyone and anyone who had seen the debacle.

Shaking her head in an effort to dislodge the horrific memory, Natasha scanned the page briefly to find her place again. Now that she was alone and away from mocking eyes, she could finally relax for a while.

[Draco A. Malfoy]

Draco Malfoy pulled at the collar of his robes as he walked down the hallway. It was quiet, as was usual these days. Most of the students were (the ones that still attended Hogwarts) were closed-mouthed. Everyone knew He watched. He had his eyes everywhere.. No one even made a peep around Snape anymore. They knew who's side he was on. Draco sometimes wondered what would have happened, had Snape not killed Dumbldore, nor had Draco himself. If Dumbldore were alive? Would Hogwarts be in the state it was in? The Slytherin prince shrugged off the thought. He was the son of a highly ranked Death Eater and socialite, as well as a Death Eater himself. Subconsciously he rubbed his forearm - and as such. He had no place thinking these thoughts.

A small group of students passed by him as he walked, two girls and their boyfriends, Draco assumed. The girls looked his way as they passed and he gave them a small smirk and an "up and down" look as they passed. They stifled giggles, and the boys shot Draco dirty looks. He didn't care though. It was the only thing he got out of life anymore. The one thing that hadn't changed. The girl's still wanted him. Well - Most girls.

As the young Slytherin approached the library he was reminded that he had a paper due in a few days and made a moment decision to stop in and grab the books he needed. As he wandered toward the back of the library to find his sought after book; Draco made a mental note of the lack of students in the room. Hardly anyone was here. Out of habit he glanced at a particular table in a particular corner of this particular room, only to remember she wouldn't be there. His rival since first year, the brightest witch herself wasn't sitting there - her hair all a frazzle, some bloody awful thick book in her hand, chewing the end of a sugar quill. To say he was shocked would have been an understatement, when instead of finding the table empty, a shabbily dressed (in his opinion) girl was sitting there instead. She most certainly didn't belong there - yet.. She almost looked as if she did.

For some reason she looked very familiar to Draco; then it hit him - like she had hit the floor this morning. A small smirk slipped to his lips as he looked at her. Well he hadn't had a good teasing session for quite some time. Maybe she would fit the bill. Draco abandoned his book search and walked toward the table. "Was it too embarrassing to handle you're little moment this morning that you just gave up on your already rubbish wardrobe and decided to hide in this corner?" Draco arched a brow, as one side of his mouth twitched upward and he folded his arms as he looked down at her.

Notes: Hope it's okay I crashed this party xD We've never really rp-ed.

[Natasha Abban]

"Was it too embarrassing to handle you're little moment this morning that you just gave up on your already rubbish wardrobe and decided to hide in this corner?"

A cool, mocking voice drilled its way through Natasha’s concentration, brutally separating her from the particularly clever narrative she had until moments before been enjoying. She jolted slightly at the sound of the voice, and jolted again as the meaning hit her. Paralysis sped up her spine, straightening and stiffening it as she unconsciously fell into the perfect posture that had been instilled in her at a young age. Embarrassment tinted with cold fear drained her face of nearly all color, and anger roared to life behind the initial shock. Two seconds later, the walls went up and to all outward appearance, Natasha lost any sign of life. It must of looked almost comical, the rapid-fire change in emotion her face so carefully chronicled: first deathly pale, then flushing to a red just as vibrant as her hair, and then completely blank.

Natasha stared with unseeing eyes at a spot on the page before her as she got her voice under control. After a few moments, she fixed her gaze on the slug who had addressed her. “I do not see how that is any of your business.” Her voice, crisp and cool, lacked any of the emotions that had run their course across her face. Her posture was such that she could have been carved from marble, like the statues of lofty ancestors that graced her grandmother’s home until recently. Natasha gave the intruder a quick once-over, noting the blonde hair, the expensive make of his clothing, and the self-involved smirk that twisted his face. Even if he had not been the most well-known of the Slytherins at Hogwarts, Natasha would have recognized Draco Malfoy for who he was instantly. After all, until the recent resurgent of the Dark Lord and his followers, their families often attended the same functions. She had never spoken to him personally; she had chosen to forgo the parties and dinners, often playing sick so that she could remain at home and read, but even so it was impossible not to recognize a Malfoy when one saw one.

“What, exactly, is it you want from me, Malfoy?” She asked, settling her gaze once more in his face. “Do you wish to continue to mock me, or may I return to my book?” Natasha’s voice remained bored and indifferent, but inside the anger and embarrassment seethed on, turning her stomach unpleasantly.

||xD Of course it’s okay! Great post, by the by.||

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[Draco A. Malfoy]

After Draco's question had reached the girl's ears, he watched the reaction as it went from shock, blatant anger, and then to ...nothing. Curious. Why such a reaction? He almost wanted to laugh but he didn't. There'd be other times for that he was sure.. If this girl - who had taken it upon herself to take Granger's place in the library, to insult him, to display curious reactions.. Then he was certain there would be other times

"And now, why not? You clearly set yourself up this morning at breakfast for any sorts of comments." Draco grinning impishly, replaying the scene in his head. He watched as the girl looked up finally and he saw the recognition of who he was glitter in her eyes. He was expecting no less, everyone knew who he was. He chuckled at her question "I don't want anything from you, obviously.. But you could do with some help from someone with fashion sense and taste." He looked her up and down again and raises an eyebrow. How anyone could feel comfortable walking around looking like that, he couldn't understand. Especially for a girl. Didn't they enjoy looking all pretty and nice? He briefly wondered if this girl even smelled nice, but he dismissed the thought as quickly as it came.

Draco glanced at the book she was reading, "I do apologize for interrupting the reading of such an -" he leaned forward to lift the front cover so he could read the title. "..interesting read. I do so hope you can forgive me." He smirked again and folded his arms, staring down at her.

Notes: Thanks!!! xD

[Natasha Abban]

"And now, why not? You clearly set yourself up this morning at breakfast for any sorts of comments."

The only outward sign of the large spike of anger that surged forward within Natasha as a result of that comment was a slight lowering of her eyelids. Malfoy or no, Natasha was on the brink of unleashing all the pent up anger and embarrassment of the day on the weasel’s head. If it had not been for her mother’s utter distaste for any public show of intense emotion, she would have lost her temper completely. Focusing on her breathing, Natasha imagined her anger flowing out with each release of breath. It took her a few moments to clear the roaring in her ears, and another moment to regain complete control. If Malfoy was fishing for a reaction of some kind, as he most certainly was, he would be disappointed.

Luckily for Natasha, his next jibe was focused on her taste in clothing. She had long since grown accustomed to the majority of the people she knew disapproving of her choice in outerwear, and no longer cared what people thought. She had tried, for a brief spell, dressing fashionably, but quickly learned that she could have worn a potatoes sack for all that the people around her cared. She was noticed just a little when she “dressed nicely” as when she was dressed for comfort. Why then would she put effort into doing something with no discernable results? It wasn’t as through she did not bother to be hygienic, so she did not really understand why her clothing choice bothered some people so much.

“Are you offering your help, Malfoy?” She asked calmly, sarcasm coloring her tone.

His third attack came in the form of an insincere apology. That he found her book boring and no doubt useless was undeniable. Natasha gently closed the book and folded her hands atop it, inclining her head magnanimously in his direction.

“Apology accepted.”

[Draco A. Malfoy]

Draco watched as her eyelids lowered, which had to be a sure sign that she was getting angry.. Ha, funny how similar she just kept proving to be, to Hermione Granger. Odd really, he thought. He didn't think anyone could be anything like that annoying, bushy haired, book toting, muggle-born.

“Are you offering your help, Malfoy?”

He sniffed, in a very Malfoy way.. (for there was no, un-malfoy way of 'sniffing').. "I don't think anyone would help you, Gr- er.. Abban." Draco slightly colored at the fumble, hoping she hadn't caught it.. but knowing his luck, she probably had.

“Apology accepted.”

The statement rather startled him.. Then he realized she was taking full advantage of his sarcasm. He rolled his eyes inwardly, not really sure how to continue, "Oh you've made my night Abban, I do owe you a great service for relieving me of that terrible guilt."

[Natasha Abban]

“Gr-er Abban?”Natasha drawled, eyebrow arching. Were her eyes deceiving her, or was that a hint of actual color in the parchment-pale Slytherin’s face? As this was not a naturally occurring event, something must have been the cause of the verbal stumble and flush. Either her name produce strong enough emotions to unsettle him, highly unlikely, or he had been about to call her by some other name, which was far more likely. What, then, had he been about to call her, and why was that name enough to embarrass him? The thought was interesting enough to almost take the edge off her anger. Almost.


“Of course they would not. One would have to have incredible… Bravery, to simply walk up to an Abban and offer their fashion advise.” Of course, some students had the gall to do so, but Natasha saw no reason to point that out.
“I imagine it would be the same for any Malfoy.” Having added that last part as a subtle reminder that the Malfoys were not the only respected Old-Blood family left, she allowed herself a small smile. As always, the mask of distant disdain calmed her anger, and it helped that Malfoy had dutifully followed the path of least resistance as it were, choosing the jibes that irritated her the least.


Again, Malfoy retreated behind sarcasm. He probably was not used to his snide comments being taken at face value, so he retreated into what had worked in past confrontations. This volley was much more obvious, but as her previous response seemed to unsettle him, Natasha saw no reason to change tactics now.



“I was not aware that you thought my forgiveness so valuable, and I will not lie and say I am not… Honored, to be owed a favor by the Malfoys.”