one step closer.....((Rosaliz))

[Rosaliz Hernandez G6]

Mornings. Rosaliz hated feeling tired and every morning she woke up this was exactly the feeling that flowed through every muscle in her body. She knew that she need to stop pressing herself so hard but it was difficult. Whatever else happened she would make sure she was able to use it for what she needed. Moaning slightly Rosaliz rolled onto her side and sat up, feet dangling over the edge of the bed as she rubbed her eyes, no time for anymore rest. The night had been difficult one, but presently all nights had started to become continuously painful. This had increasingly changed Rosaliz's mood swings and views of life. Once at the edge of the bed, Rosaliz realized she was no longer surpriseed at her routine, so of course Rosaliz's only alternative to escape such an agonizing pain in her head was to retreat….

It was a dangerous idea but Rosaliz was going to follow through with the plan because she was extremely tired…But she knew it; quickly she rolled up the sleeves of her black jumper. She wanted to prepare herself for Aunt Margie. She began taking deep breaths, meditating. She took out her wand and slowly put it at her side…. But just as she stepped out of bed she was assaulted with a flurry of feathers and squawking, as she tried to place her hands up to shove the bird away she cursed, all of this was getting her in a foul mood. She was panting by the time she got the ruddy bird to rest on her arm and her eyes narrowed, head tilting. She took the strip of parchment and the bird flew off before she could even read it.

Your time is up.

She seemed to squint at the paper as she looked up and around, and then back at it, she rolled her eyes and tossed the paper aside. It was a perfect advantage that her aunt was complete rubbish at finding others...But the information sent by owls was getting on her last nerves…Rosaliz knew what was yet to come. Finally her aunt and her were able to face each other… Truly… Making such compromise was dangerous but she knew it had to be done. She knew that it may come to worst and there will be a duel…ending up with one of them dead…


Putting the thought behind her, she started to head towards the most familiar place of all, her Aunt’s house. It was in the middle of farmland, no buildings surrounded it all. No one would know or see anything suspicious. Just the way her Aunt liked it. She claimed it was for privacy reasons. Stepping out side she knew that fate is carrying her right toward the most important events of her life.

Towards her destination she had even been near to collapsing a few times but managed to pick herself at her feet. When she had at least reached the midway point, Rosaliz didn't hinder her body in exhausting upon the ground. The floor came most welcoming to her body and served as surrogate bedroom. She used her hands as a pillow for her head.

After maybe an hour and a half asleep Rosaliz awoke to some noises that probably belonged to a savaged beast. Now that her head had been refreshed she continued walking. The amount of sleep she'd gotten was very satisfying but she acknowledged the fact that was probably going to maximum of sleep she'd get. She saw her reflection from a nearby window shop, she looked exhausted as ever. There were huge purple rings under her eyes and her skin was a sickly pale color, her plan was to say 'Halloween came early' if anyone questioned her appearance…

Once in the view of her Aunt’s house, her eye transfixed on it she heard "Incarcerous Maxima Inflamare!”. As she heard this she slipped her hand into her pocket and grabbed her wand. She realized firey ropes were headed straight for her and her eyes narrowed, her mood completely ruined. Perhaps she shouldn't have headed this way, seeing that her aunt would have done such a childish act. Hexing anyone who happened by... really, what was wrong with her? But slowly a smirk was growing on her face, a delighted smirk that seemed to contradict her thoughts on what bad luck she'd been having.

"Repello!" She growled back, her wand slashing upwards as she braced herself to what would come next. "Not nice to play with fire, now is it?" She stated, her tone was rather pleasant and friendly, though something about it was daunting, as if it was a very false voice. She'd used it so much though; she liked the contradicting sounds together. "Is there any reason you're trying to hex me?" Her eyes now on her aunt who stood ten feet ahead of her. Dueling was not the first thing she would consider an invite but at least it would be good to keep the boredom away for a while.

Her aunt frowned when her ropes were sent astray, but that did not stop her. She started advancing towards her, "Look Rosaliz, all I want is some of your blood. We can do this kind of easy and relatively painless, or dangerously and rather painful. Pick and choose but either way I'm, going to get some of that blood of yours," she said as she was still advancing her way. Not once did her aunt see, to let down her guard. She looked completely ready for all attack that Rosaliz threw out.

“Alright then,” Rosaliz said, “then come and get me!!!! One thing is for sure, I am not dying tonight!!!!!!!”

"Petrificus Totalus!" said her aunt, attempting to put her body in a lock.

"Protego!" Rosaliz shouted, her words were clumsy and hasty, though it wasn't as if she had enough time to think. Now she was forced to use such a thing, she knew already the protection shield was used after the petrificus totalus, her shields were weak at best and she was lucky when they worked. "Bloody hell!! Have you decided it'd be more fun to do it the hard way, then?" Her voice had grown annoyed, sour.

Well she'd be damned if she let some "stranger" have her blood, she didn't even know what the blood was wanted for. Actually, it was a bit creepy. She faked nervous laughter as she kept backing up, going through her index of spells she knew. "And why do you want my blood? Are you getting poor? have you resorted to inherit my belongings? You hated that your sister had a daughter, Right? Because I got the money and you didn’t? Is that true?" She grinned at this, seemingly pleased with herself. "Stupefy!" She wasn't about to try and find out, though she knew her more defensive spells were lacking.

Margie frowned when Rosaliz had put up another shield to protect herself. Obviously she knew she wanted to do this the hard way, but that was fine with her. She always liked to play with her food. True she wasn't going to eat this kid, but she sure could do something of the sort. Margie then saw a stupefy coming her way so she put up her own protego shield to block her. She laughed at the kid's weak attempt to stun her. "It's going to take a lot more then third-year moves to get me, Rosaliz," she laughed at her. She then pointed her wand again at the girl, "Sectumsempra Major!" she yelled.



”Sectumsempra Major!" Rosaliz her She cursed in her head, wondering why this was such a popular spell. She stumbled to the side, wand raised, but before she could rebuttle the other's spell she felt it slash against her stomach and part of her chest on the right side. Even as she started to double over in pain she tightened her grip on her wand, she lifted her arm coming up to press against his stomach. She could feel the warm blood seeping through her shirt at an alarming rate, but she was more pissed than she was worried or upset. She really didn't appreciate this spell, she already had two long scars on what she thought to be a very attractive body, and this would make a third for sure.

Although she could probably end this here by just offering herself blood, she had half a mind to; her anger was getting the better of her. The smile had long gone from her face, replaced by a calmer look, though her eyes were narrowed. She muttered something and slashed her wand towards Margie, sending off a shock spell. She remembered when she'd persuaded her friend to teach her this; she'd heard her speaking about it with her mother. At the time she'd had no clue it's affects, but she remembered she'd tried to use it on Thomas, which had seemed to disappoint the whole family. "Silencio!" She cried out, still stumbling backwards at a slow pace. If she could get Margie to stop it would be ideal, but she knew the other was older, even if by only a couple of years that could make a huge difference.

Margie smiled a grin of satisfaction when she saw that the spell had hit. She advanced towards her as the blood started flowing out. "Well that was easy," she said to herself. Now all she had to do was sedate Rosaliz long enough to kill her with out a fuss. She then sent another curse her way but this one was easily waived since she was fully alert now. "I will not be hit again," she said as she pointed her wand delicately towards Rosaliz. "Conjunctivitis," she said. She then sent another one after that, using the first one as a decoy. She didn't care as much if that hit just so long as the second one did. Hopefully she would be focused on trying to obliterate the first one to not notice she sent another Petrificus Totalus her way.

Margie wasn't in the mood to wait "Lupus Morsus". A ball of purple light flew from Margie’s wand. This spell that would cause a large chunk of flesh, muscle, veins, pretty much anything that wasn't bone, to be ripped from any type of bone. As this spell flew towards it's target Rosaliz, ducked down, hitting the center of her back.

Rosaliz slashed her wand and muttered a repello, quite fooled in the fact that a second spell was on its way. The Petrificus Totalus had done it's job because as it hit her back which caused massive amounts of pain to her back. She felt, at least, she was lucky enough to be standing. But that too sent crashing pain into her body, and barely before she ducked thoroughly she felt a large chunk of her back being which would surely have her screaming if she wasn’t in so much shock. Seeing as it did not she could feel his tear ducts overflowing, and her cheeks were wet with the only release his body could muster; tears. Oh the scowl she would have given if she could. Falling on her stomach she lay there completely still, thinking about the duel. Blood.... blood everywhere….


Margie smirked when her decoy worked just as planned. She was now in a full body-bind and she could do away with what she wished.

"Your so weak," She started before she saw a purple-ish color orb hit her. Frowning, disappointed that it hadn’t hit her completely, "We are done here, correct?" she shouted.

Rosaliz, knew it was true…in fact she was weak, she was put down, lying on the ground, when her aunt asked if they were done she felt disappointed in herself and for her family, especially her mother.

It was phrased as a question, Rosaliz could tell even from those simple words that Margie told her that there was no need to go any further, and she agreed. She wasn't pointing her wand at her anymore but rather Margie had it held loosely at her side. It wasn't as if Rosaliz could do anything to try and protect herself right now anyway and Margie would be able to take her time with this. "I simply ask that you to give up or you will be in pain a little while longer." She said smirking as she bent her legs and crouched down beside Rosaliz's motionless body.

Margie, now standing next to this little girl slowly raised her wand to point upwards and muttered a few simple words. As she did this a blue light eminated from the tip of her wand but didn't blast away in the normal method of casting a spell. Instead the light attached itself to the tip of Margie’s wand and remained there, almost like a blade would on the handle of a knife. In truth this was basically what the spell had done and Margie looked down at Rosaliz with a large smirk across her face.

"I told you didn't I? That you needed to be careful who you insult. You do not deserve to carry this family name. You and your lame mother of yours worthy??? Of course you must have learnt that lesson from your attack but I think a lasting reminder would be better if I expect you to remember the message." She said smirking still as she lowered the wand towards the Her body face. As long as Rosaliz didn't remove the petrifying spell she was simply going to apply deep stab wounds, in this girls body, just deep enough that she may bleed to death.

Rosaliz eyes flicked to the wand, the tear reaction had finally stopped and she didn't like the feeling of being punctured. Her eyes focused on the wand tip for a moment. Rosaliz found herself rolling her eyes in a defiant manner. Her eyes narrowed and for the first time since she had got there she began to grow quite upset and a little bit afraid... How could she do such a cruel thing?... she'd already ruined her back and stomach, as well as her legs. She knew that she was going to need some serious healing. Rosaliz reached out and tried to grab her wand trying not to make it obvious. Once held her grip was like stone. She made no motion to use it, this was simply a precaution. She looked around slowly; her breathing was getting a bit more frantic. At least she was still alive…

[Rosaliz Hernandez G6]

One Month before...

A new surprise had been arriving at King's Cross in London, only to discover that her aunt was nowhere to be seen. Typically, she was the one standing at the front of the crowds, only too eager to exercise his control and dictatorship over Rosaliz once again. That, however, was not the sight that greeted her after stepping off the Hogwarts Express. The graduated fourth year had stood around for half of an hour before restlessness settled in. There was no means of contacting her uncle and, quite honestly, it was the last thing the spiteful Gryffie wanted to do. Therefore, Rosaliz had immersed herself within a borrowed copy of the Daily Prophet, deciding that she needed a distraction of sorts. The first few pages were filled with nothing of great interest to her - news was so slow lately, it would seem - but an article on the fifth page caught her eye right away. Her Uncle's name was emblazoned in the dark caption atop a brief article: HENRY SMYTH FOUND MURDERED IN HIS HOME. Reading this title caused all movement around Rosaliz to stop and sounds muted instantly, save for the pounding of Rosaliz's heart within her chest. Swallowing, the fourteen-year-old blinked her eyes, wondering if she was imagining the bold words. She was not. It took another full minute for her to recuperate before reading the article. It did not have much information, just that Henry Smyth was found lifeless and stone cold - the Avada Kedavra curse was the most likely cause. No evidence was discovered, apparently, nor was there any apparent motive for the murder. The last sentences in the article mentioned Rosaliz: Henry Smyth survived by his fourteen-year-old neice Rosaliz, a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She has been left in the care of one of Mr, Smyth trusted associates, whose name will not be disclosed at this time. Rosaliz could remember the reaction she felt after reading those final sentences. She needed to run - and quickly. The "associates" of her uncle was her aunt Margie, She is seedy and deranged - if Rosaliz allowed herself to fall underneath the power of her, she would surely wind up in the same situation as she had lived endlessly through . . . perhaps even worse.

Now, she was at a Cafe not far from her house. Currently, the Gryffindor sat with a full glass of a beverage - Rosaliz had no clue what - sitting before her. She had specifically chosen the seat she currently sat at: it was out of the way yet offered a good vantage point of all other areas within the pub. Although it was summertime and rather muggy out, Rosaliz had an ebony cloak covering her body, its hood pulled over her equally dark hair. Her face was still visible but if Rosaliz caught sight of any "suspicious" figures, she could easily conceal her physiognomy beneath the hood. Absently, she began spinning the umber liquid within the glass before her, not really paying much attention to what she was doing. Her eyes were examining the faces of those around her, trying to see if there was anybody she ought to be keeping an extra eye on. So intent was Rosaliz on her examination that she did not sense another person drawing closer to her table...

Rosaliz's intense gaze had been fixated upon a lanky man with oily brown bangs sifting into his yellowish eyes, sitting upon one of the bar stools only twenty or so feet away. He struck Rosaliz as immensely familiar, which sent her senses into overdrive - what if he was the "associate" the Daily Prophet mentioned who was working with her aunt so she could claim her as her new "guardian?" Surely they were on the lookout for her now - Therefore, she was eying the man very particularly, hardly paying attention to her other surroundings as she continued to spin the liquid inside of her glass. Rosaliz was almost positive and the more she stared at him, the more she was convinced. When he stood up, her heart nearly leaped out of its chest - as did the voice that spoke directly to her at the same exact moment:

"Mind if I sit with you, Rosaliz?"

The Gryffindor finally tore her hazel eyes away from the spindly man and onto the person who had spoken to her was an old childhood friend name: Serge.... a "Not at all," she replied, her tone not much changed from last term. It was still flat but, interestingly enough, it was not as emotion-void. Rosaliz hardly recognized this change and would think it insignificant otherwise, but it was evidence that a change was occurring within the bloodstream of the fourteen-year-old. Rosaliz knew him and the familiar face appeased her a bit. Throughout the entire process of staring at the man, Rosaliz's face had hardly evolved: her countenance was still seemingly made of marble with unmoving features and a porcelain-colored skin hue, contrasting very sharply with her dark clothes. Glancing away for a second, Rosaliz looked back to where the man had been standing . . . and saw an empty bar stool. Where had he gone? Her gaze diverted to the windows, Muggles walked past at constant rates - no sign of him. Looking through the rest of the tavern, Rosaliz's eyes scanned the faces of those within the pub. His physiognomy was not to be sought out. Admitting defeat to herself, Rosaliz looked back to Serge, a bit relieved for the company. Although she was to be on alert all the time, it was nice to have a brief break from the normal regime. "I hope life has been treating you decently," she stated with a slight question in her voice, realizing that her drink had been more or less abandoned in her search through the pub. Its murky brown color hardly looked appetizing, though, so Rosaliz moved it aside a few inches and folded her pallid fingers on the tabletop, glancing at Serge as she did. It was true that Rosaliz did not know very much about Serge- . Then again - it was hard for Rosaliz to figure out anybody she did know very well. For her entire fourth year, she had strayed away from people, afraid of getting close because of her immense paranoia and mistrustful nature. She had behaved as such through her first two years as well but it really seemed to increase during her last term. Now, however, Rosaliz was hoping to change that a bit. She was not about to evolve into popularity or even close friendship, but a few associates and contacts would be helpful. Her tenure at the Muggle inn this past summer proved that much, for Rosaliz had promised herself never to succumb to that level ever again. Pushing thoughts of next summer out of her mind, Rosaliz placed her deep-set hazel eyes upon Serge's countenance, wondering what he would say.

Even though she had departed the scabrous Muggle inn almost a fortnight ago, Rosaliz constantly found herself reflecting upon her tenure there, as unpleasant and demeaning as it had been. Cleaning after the Muggles without any usage of magic had refined the tenacious nature of Rosaliz and gave her a more solid disposition than it had been previously. Somehow, she managed to scrape up dignity and self-worth after sticking her hands in places that made her nauseated to this very moment but the memories would be forever etched into her skull. At least nobody had found her there – nobody would have thought that Rosaliz, a wealthy underground "dirty dealer," would certainly never succumb to those types of conditions. Rosaliz had acutely deducted that before making plans to stay anywhere and decided that her options were severely limited. The wizarding world was more or less out of the question, as there was too likely a chance that she would be spotted by a person who knew her face and status. Now, however, there was no more avoiding it - she simply just had to watch her step and make pragmatic decisions, no matter what the circumstances were. Trying not to divert her gaze to the general populace of the Cafe, for everybody's face looked too suspicious these days, Rosaliz glanced at Serge through phlegmatic eyes, curious to see what she would say or do.

"uh-hem...so how is you summer going? " asked Rosaliz

Giving a small wry smile of sorts, Rosaliz moved back a few inches, her back pressing back onto the chair she currently sat upon. Not listening to a word on what he said, he then asked how her's was going "Boring, perhaps, depressing . . . not the correct adjective but certainly not too far off," she suggested, her tone deadpan but with a slightly bitter flavor immersed deep within. Cleaning up bacterial grime in the most uncomfortable places was hardly boring but certainly highly unpleasant. "My holidays could have been better but they could have been worse as well," she simply stated, glancing back toward Serge through her metallic hazel eyes. Serge was definitely still a mystery to Rosaliz but she could not help but noticing a paralleling evasive nature in her character. She selected what she chose to reveal as did Rosaliz: they seemed to both understand that too much revealed information could be treacherous and rather dangerous, given the proper circumstances. Still, generalities would certainly suffice - if Rosaliz hid all information away, more suspicion would be drawn to her. Really, that was the very last thing Rosaliz desired. Eyes involuntarily floating toward the other bar inhabitants, the Gryffie observed the occupants through astute eyes. Was that greasy tall man back? It took a few sweeps of the establishment to be certain but Rosaliz concluded that he was long gone.

"Someone you know?" Serge asked...

Glimpsing toward Serge, Rosaliz followed her gaze until her own pair of eyes settled upon a male of sorts, making his way toward their table. Instantly, something within Rosaliz seized her lungs, squeezing them so that no air would be passed through them. She did not let any signs of discomfort show in her physiognomy, but she was highly alert and instantly scanned the individual's face. He was certainly older than Rosaliz but still likely enough to be a student at Hogwarts - a seventh year, perhaps. Rosaliz knew she did not recognize his countenance from anywhere but she took in account the way he walked and how his overall disposition was presented: rather graceful or elegant with a sense of good breeding. His actions and even manner of dressing gave Rosaliz a reason to think he was of an affluent background, perhaps even a royal. Rosaliz gave a tiny shake of her blonde lock head as she continued to observe the male. "No, I have never seen him before," she replied to Serge's query, imminently curious to know who he was. Could he be in cahoots with her aunt? Feeling that paranoia creep through her bloodstream again, Rosaliz was a bit surprised when the male sat himself down at the table, placing a glass before Rosaliz. Glancing up at him through unmoving eyes, Rosaliz perceptively listened to his words:

"You look like you could do with a drink. This one looks flat."

Noting every minuscule detail she possibly could in a few moments' time, Rosaliz observed his perfectly placed fingers upon the glass, watching as it was placed before her. Clearly, he was referring to her abandoned umber drink, the one that resembled Muggle grime and dirt mixed together in liquid. That particular metaphor made Rosaliz all the more disgusted with the beverage and she glanced back toward the male, still trying to figure out his character. "Flat and rather distasteful, needless to say," she replied, her tone listless but her hazel eyes active as she tried to determine whether any ulterior motives were present on the part of this male. Gazing at the drink he had placed before her, Rosaliz wondered precisely what ingredients were intermingled within the liquid. An old trick she had learned from her father's line of work, Rosaliz raised one of her long pallid fingers and placed the tip a few millimeters within the drink. Its cool and subtle feel tingled over her skin before she raised it up to her nose and gave it a sniff. Nothing too suspicious there. She then placed the tip discreetly on her bottom lip, tasting the liquid as she did. Still nothing dubious, but that hardly indicated anything. A potion that would do unspeakable damage to Rosaliz's insides or perhaps knock her stone cold within an hour's time could easily be concealed within a strong enough beverage. All of this awhile, Rosaliz slowly slipped her free hand into her pocket getting a full grip on her wand. She had no intentions on trusting this guy, and wouldn't care if she dueled him right in front of muggles....

[Rosaliz Hernandez G6]

Rosaliz on the other hand, thought it would be smart to play it out... she decided to tell him her first name as a gesture in order to get something out of him. Any type of news. Perhaps a small general question won't hurt? Rosaliz shrug off the idea and asked "What is your occupation?"..

****

The past few months have been relatively quiet for Nathan. Despite Margie's wishes, he had spent the break in England with his family and all the tedious obligations that came with being a Daniels. At first, he had regretted this decision as he found the days in this foreign country agonizingly long but later came to accept the change in his ostentatious lifestyle. The time always past slow for him when he wasn’t in the usual boisterous company of aristocrats. It seemed that Frederick, after the humbrae fiasco, had come straight with him too. Nathan had been unaware of this when he had eagerly applied for the same transfer. He wanted to get away from it all – his past mistakes; the twisted brotherhood that was getting out of hand, which he and Frederick had been responsible for; the spate of local violence and political conflict,– but unwittingly, Nathan had placed himself right back into his main source of problem. Despite his willingness to do anything to gain the other’s trust again and for the other boy to forgive him, Nathan couldn’t help but feel strong resentment towards Frederick as he found himself being overshadowed by the boy again. Aside from his regular walks, Nathan had spent most of his time at the small country lodge near the coastline. He had taken the time to read profusely. The accompanying silence that had come with him being alone had no doubt improved his psyche. Anger no longer seemed to be an issue for him, but it was hard to tell whether this sudden onset of calmness, acceptance and emotional stability would continue when he returned to his mission; when he was faced with Frederick and Margie again, who both had a way of manipulating everything and everyone around him. With slight disdain on his face, he looked to the other side where a petite cloaked figure sat next to girl who had an odd pendant around her neck – no doubt something that she treasured or was keeping safe. What humoured him the most was that the guy was having what seemed to be tea in a bar. The girl seemed to be distracted, content on just swirling her drink.

Though his hearing wasn’t as acute as his vision, he could easily pick up the tones of the girl as they addressed each other. There was a distinct sense of familiarity as they spoke, but they were careful to reveal no level of affection, particularly since the cloaked girl who had a contained flat voice. Nathan mused. As his blue eyes swept over her porcelain skin and cold expression, he couldn’t help but think that she was somewhat similar to him in the sense of keeping distances with people. Unlike her though, Nathan had no problem in showing his emotions. His face would always be carefully arranged to convey the right levels of concern, apathy or whatever the situation called for. He just had the uncanny knack to detach himself from people with severity when he needed to. It didn’t matter to him that he had built a close relationship with them. With Frederick, however, he found this difficult. The other boy knew him too well and his games never worked with him. When he would lose his temper, his pretense would be thrown off. It was only during these times that his true emotions were ever shown. But this would happen one too many times, and though he was well aware of this, Nathan was too proud to admit his faults and work on his short fuse.....Wait--- his train of thought hit rock bottom. This girl did have a familiar face. Not something he hadseen in real life but in picture....
Picture?

It finally hit him that Rosaliz was Margie's niece!!!! Running into his work without even trying.....

Nathan tried to discern what part of the conversation he had missed. From his observations, it seemed that they were going through the usual pleasantries but asking about what he couldn’t quite pick up. Judging the by the cloaked girl’s grim expression though, it was something that neither really wanted to discuss in great detail. Before he came over, the girl eyed him with raised eyebrows and spoke in hushed tones at her companion who shook his head shortly afterwards. Words weren’t necessary for him to understand the general meaning behind what she had said. Their actions were enough for him to know that he had just been the subject of their little exchange, perhaps asking the other if she knew him. Regardless of how careful he had been though to show that he meant no harm, both of them were reacting suspiciously to his sudden appearance. Rosaliz who was drinking coffee even sniffed the air, trying to pick up any additives in the drink he offered. Something that was quite understandable, and instead of feeling irritated by their distrusting manner, Nathan was curious. A question posed in his mind: was this sniffing an acquired gift or an exaggerated show of suspicion? Whichever it was, he was mildly amused. His short nod of acknowledgment was returned with one of her own and a shy smile. Everything about her – the way she dressed, the way she held herself, and her lulling speech, indicated to him that she was quite experienced in enclosing herself from strangers. The other guy was not equally observant. Nathan was actually a little uncertain of Rosaliz as he got mixed reactions of surprise and suspicion from the girl. "Flat and rather distasteful, needless to say.” Unlike her tone, her eyes were alive and alert. As if Rosaliz's testing hadn’t been enough, the cloaked girl raised one long finger and after placing it within the drink, she sniffed it. A short laugh escaped his mouth. “Is it to your taste?” He asked, tone light and meaning no offense.

The two pairs of eyes continued to fix searchingly on him and he remained calm, unfazed by this attention. Sipping his drink he stood in a relaxed fashion,. Nathan had picked up this demeanor from his grandfather who would act unnaturally calm during conversations, giving off the impression of disinterest. It had the opposite effect as it gave him the power to make demands. Though Nathan wasn’t demanding anything but just company from the two, he found himself molding to his grandfather’s ways. "Adrienne Riddle." He cast his mind back to put together all the information he knew about the Riddle family. Though the Danes didn’t know a great deal about them, he knew the associations the name had with the Dark Lord. He couldn’t remember any direct associations between his family and the girl’s, but he was acutely aware of the powerful and wealthy Riddles that once resided in upper England, and wasn’t sure which Riddle this girl belonged to. Nathan couldn’t dwell on it any longer though as a pair of deep set eyes demandingly sought his attention. "Rosaliz." Instantly he found this odd. It wasn’t the name that aroused peculiarity; it was the fact that she had only disclosed her first name. Though his mind was furiously working out the appropriate questions to ask the girl, Nathan remained smiling. His blue eyes looked away from Rosaliz and stared out the grimy window of the inn. Maybe he didn’t have to ask any questions…...Breaking the gaze had been intentional. He wanted her to speak to him first, inquire about his family. And with satisfaction, he heard her curiously address him. "What is your occupation then?" “Occupation?” with a smile, took another sip of his drink. “I’m an employee constantly on travel. An investigator” he was careful to say just the right things. Nathan was purposely taking a similar action to Rosaliz by leaving the important information out like the company or person he worked for. If he mentioned the name, there would be a risk of them finding out that he had been involved in the humbrae fiasco. Seizing the opportunity, “But I didn’t catch your last name,” he added, carefully appearing to be forgetful. His Danish accent was particularly stronger here as he said this – all to reassure them that he did indeed come from Denmark. It was important that he gave weight to his words. Nathan, despite his skew in morals, did strive to be ethical once in a while, and part of being this was to keep his word and to be honest.

[Rosaliz Hernandez G6]

---end--- you will find out more on what happened this day in future posts... One must keep your eyes open to see it.