Counting Down The Days ((Open))

[Carlin Lennox S7]

((Set near the end of the summer.))

Carlin rose from the edge of her younger sister’s bed silently, almost holding her breath in her efforts to not disturb the slow, even breathing coming from the dark-haired head burrowed beneath the bedcovers. They were red, of course. Cyn had hit a most disturbing time of her childhood in which anything red was to be lauded as wonderful while any other colour was simply unacceptable. It really didn’t help that Damien had shown his more irritating streak by suggesting that maybe Carlin’s green Slytherin tie should be burnt in a ceremonial sacrifice. Cyn couldn’t really be blamed for her enthusiasm – she was still only seven years old, after all, and therefore to be forgiven for being led astray by her most beloved cousin – but Damien really should know better. After her favourite emerald and opal bracelet had gone missing only three weeks after they had arrived home, Carlin had summarily ejected Damien from her parents’ house for the rest of the summer. His whining about where exactly she expected him to go would perhaps have softened her if not for the knowledge that his own parents would be reasonably content to house their youngest son until he went back to Hogwarts for his last year. Aunt Emily would likely have dragged Damien straight to his bedroom to show off all of the new clothing designs that she had created for him before loading him up with parcels of various garments to give to Carlin to get her through the autumn with more being sent on for the winter months. Subtle though it may be, there was a definite difference between autumn and winter clothing – and Aunt Emily always made sure that Carlin, Cyn or any of her own children never had to look elsewhere for their clothing needs.

“I’ll be back before dinner unless something delays me,” Carlin informed Cynthia’s live-in tutor briskly, an impatient gesture indicating for Sarah to walk alongside her as she strode through the hallways of their large house, a pair of grey heels dangling from her fingers rather than wear them and have the tapping awaken her sister. “My parents’ orders are the same as always when they’re away: Cynthia is not to be allowed excessive sweets, her friends are not to be invited over until she has completed her lessons for the day to a satisfactory standard and they must be picked up by their parents at least three hours before Cynthia’s bedtime. If I am indeed delayed then she is not to be permitted to complain for more than five minutes, with the punishment of no cake after dinner should she exceed that time. And if you can then please do try to extricate her from that obnoxious colour preference of hers. Mother will not be happy if Aunt Emily reports that Cynthia is refusing to be clothed in any colour than red; it’s childish and highly unbecoming.”

Although the same woman had been Carlin’s tutor during her younger years, and Jared’s tutor also, and had thus experienced behaviour equal to that which was now being condemned, she merely smiled and murmured a confirmation. Despite knowing from her own childhood that her orders would be treated less strictly than how she had given them, Carlin’s gaze didn’t flicker as she opened the box of floo powder and threw a pinch into the fireplace before slipping her shoes onto her feet. Her loyalty was to her family only but it would do no harm for Cyn to be treated with a bit more leniency than their mother’s firm ideas on how to raise her children would allow. Sarah would treat Carlin’s sister no differently to how she had treated Carlin herself, and Carlin hadn’t turned out too badly after all.

“I’ll look after Cynthia,” Sarah assured her eldest female charge warmly, “and I’ll make sure to tell her that you love her.”

Carlin paused for a second, sharp eyes assessing the aged lines and loving sincerity of the woman in front of her before she nodded curtly, stepping into the green fire with almost undignified haste. Once upon a time, the same message had been passed on from Jared to Carlin via the same woman...but that was a long time ago now. She had no time for lies anymore, not even the little ones that were capable of warming her heart and making her feel like the most special little girl alive. The most important difference between her brother and herself was that Carlin would never dream of abandoning her family, especially not in favour of half-bloods and muggleborns as he had done. The privilege and luxury of her life was not something to be ashamed of merely because not everyone had the same things she had been born to.

[Damien Lennox S7]

“Mother. Mother!” Damien raised his hands above his head, batting away seeking hands as he fended off the affectionate attack. Emily Lennox subsided back into a chair with a pout, sulky blue eyes watching her youngest child without missing a single movement as he tried to ruffle his dark hair back into place. Her expression clearly bemoaned his unwillingness to let her meddle with his appearance but he took little notice of her beyond glimpses caught in the mirror above the fireplace. “Oh alright. Just keep in mind that it was perfectly fine before you decided to mess it up.” With bad grace, Damien folded down onto his knees in front of his mother, head bowed as nimble fingers twisted through recalcitrant strands until some form of order was achieved.

Even after the motion stilled, her hands remained until Damien titled his head upwards to catch her eye. “Ah, Mother. Don’t look at me like that,” he coaxed smoothly, having been warned by both his brothers that their mother was prone to bouts of tears and melancholy at the realisation that her children were growing up. “Come on now, you knew that I was going out today with Carlin and you know what she’s like if I’m late. Besides, there’s still time before I have to leave for the school year; we can spend time together before then if you work on your designs today.” His mother tended to be more of a businesswoman than a typical mother sometimes but she had put her children before her work from the moment that each of them were born. With Damien being the youngest of her four children, Alexander had warned him that she would be more likely to cling to him than she had been with any of her children; as the eldest, Alexander had naturally seen his mother’s behaviour change through the years and had offered fervent, silent appreciation that he was the firstborn and had therefore been able to escape the majority of the tears and wailing by deflecting attention to Bryony and Colin. Sometimes Damien really hated his eldest brother for his sheer good luck.

It took longer than he had expected for Damien to soothe his distressed mother enough to be able to make his escape, one hand wafting the floo powder into the fire even while the other was still waving goodbye. He may not have noticed, though his mother certainly did, that once she no longer had a physical grasp on him, any thoughts of her ceased to be important. It had not been the same with all of her children: Alexander was a lot more standoffish than his youngest brother but even he had deigned to hug her and do little things to make the separation that his increasing age brought them easier; Bryony and Colin had both immediately cancelled their other plans at the sight of their mother’s misery. So what had she done so wrong with Damien that she simply failed to reach him in any way at all?

With the same good nature as always, Damien effortlessly ignored Carlin’s complaints that he was late as he stepped through the fireplace to the other side. A startling level of practice was required to block out Carlin when she was in one of her moods, particularly since he still had to remain alert enough to start listening again when she moved on from listing his faults. In some of his more bad-tempered moments, there were a few things that he wouldn’t have minded snapping back at her but his temper wasn’t as volatile as his cousin’s nor was she as forgiving as he was. He wasn’t foolish enough to sacrifice their friendship just for a few short moments of honesty. Neither of them were.

“You know why I’m late,” he broke in after a safe pause in Carlin’s one-sided conversation. “So don’t start blaming me for it. If you hadn’t kicked me out then I wouldn’t have had to deal with her this year, would I? So it’s partly your fault too, and you don’t hear me blaming you for it, do you?” Following the same routine that they had formed the summer after third year, Damien took the lead in guiding Carlin over to Flourish and Blotts, both of them examining each other’s list of books for the school year. Making the bookshop their first stop would mean that they would have to carry their books around if not for Carlin having reserved a room in the Leaky Cauldron to have their shopping sent to, as she always did. The only reason Flourish and Blotts was their first stop was because most people made it their last, meaning that Carlin or Damien had time to charm a conquest while the other half of their duo took far too much time in locating the books on their lists.

“I’ll let you know if I find anyone,” Damien muttered lowly, dark eyes alight with the anticipation of beating his cousin. If he flicked his gaze to the left, he knew that Carlin would have a similar expression adorning her face. After all, there was little more exhilarating than the knowledge that you were battling against the best, and they were indeed the best.

[Edward Shaw G7]

[OOC: *crashes thread*]


The last year of Hogwarts was looming before Edward Shaw, tempting his soul. He was ready to be done with it...ready to get on with his search for Elizabeth. The whole summer had been spent wandering aimlessly around America, trying to find a girl that no one seemed to even know about. His search was getting ridiculous and he was half afraid that he'd never find her...that she wasn't alive to be found. After all...that's something his father would have done just to spite him. That's how much he hated his family...to accuse his father of murdering a little girl and her entire family just because he had called them family. Eddie wasn't quite sure if that was being vain or rather he was stating facts at that time. The truth was...either option was more than truthful. It was why he ran a hand over his face, standing in the middle of Diagon Alley. The tension was visible around him...like he didn't quite know how to keep the stress from eating him alive, which was partly true. The stress of everything was becoming too much for Eddie. It was his last year at Hogwarts...his brother was gone and his sister was going to eat him alive, because as most Shaw's did they ate people alive that were different. He was a blood traitor after all.

Hands slowly moved to pull out the parchment from Hogwarts. He had been amused when he'd received the letter in America. Apparently even though he'd taken off from his parents and was wandering around America the letter had still found him. It showed him just how aware of things Hogwarts was. Whether it was the school itself or the professors in it he wasn't sure. Somehow they'd known where he was and how to get to him. It made everything that much more amusing. Of course he was sure his parents were beyond angry with him for not returning. All of his things were still there...well not as much as you would imagine. Eddie wasn't one to invest in material items...other than the things he was sure would upset his parents. He preferred just being alive and to being with other people than finding some sort of happiness in clothes or posters or something else. The only things that mattered to him were his books and journals...and those he'd already moved over to his flat in London. Eddie had definitely been prepared for the summer to say the least. The amount of money he'd saved up for the last three or four years had been enough to find himself a place of his own. Not to mention the savings he'd started stashing when he was five years old and realized what he was being given for his birthday. It was nice knowing even as a five year old that Eddie had every intention of leaving behind his family. He'd been a smart kid.

Reminding himself that he was standing in the middle of the walkway at Diagon Alley Eddie quickly read over the list of things he still needed to get. The rest of his stuff was sitting on the ground beside him as he figured out where to go next. Everything had been acquired save for his books. He always saved those for last, though it probably didn't matter anymore. With his ability to do magic anytime he wanted to he could spell the books to shrink and all sorts of things. Though he would prefer not doing such a thing. Not when he had to move through the Muggle world back to his flat. Apparating just seemed so lazy, so Eddie was big on walking everywhere and someday he even planned on getting one of those Muggle driver licenses so he could drive around in one of those metal tin cans with wheels, cars as Muggles called them. They were fascinating subjects and Eddie fancied a few of them...mostly the ones coloured in a brilliant and shiny red. He definitely planned on getting himself one of those.

Smirking to himself Eddie picked up his bag and headed in the direction of Flourish and Blotts. All he had to do now was find at least eleven books...the ridiculousness was astounding, but he didn't let it bother him as he slipped in the door. He knew his way around Flourish and Blotts fairly well by this point in time. After all he'd been coming here since he was a little boy. It was the one place he felt at home. The amount of books here surpassed his collection by far and he'd always hoped someday to have a room full of just as many. A life goal one would say, but for now he just stuck with the books he needed, as opposed to the ones he wanted. It should have been a fairly simple and easy task...find the books on the list, purchase said books on the list, and then leave with said books. Easy right? The thing was it was too simple. Things had never been simple for Eddie, not even as a kid, so when he piled the last book on top of his stack of books and headed back down the steps to the first floor he knew that something was going to happen and sure enough those Muggle shoes he deemed to be so extraordinary tripped on the stairs. The next thing he is aware of is tumbling down the rest of the stairs, books going everywhere, and a figure moving into his line of site just as he rolled by them assuredly kicking her legs out from under her.

Once everything had stopped moving and Eddie was sure he could hear snickering, he quickly sat up, his eyes falling on the girl he'd taken with him on accident. He got to his feet quickly and held his hand out to her. "I'm so sorry...I tripped...I didn't mean to....." he stopped short when he noticed who was on the ground. He could feel the resent coil up in his stomach and wait like a snake as he watched the Slytherin. Of all the days to run across a Slytherin he had to do it then...right at that moment when he was now going to have to apologize for them being in his way and that was certainly not how he wanted to start the day. Not to mention his eyes lifted to the girl's cousin just a few steps away. Now he was certain he was in hell.

[Carlin Lennox S7]

Carlin laughed lowly, the sound deliberately husky, as if to ensure that for not even a single second would Damien forget whom he was matching himself against. There was no one who could beat a Lennox, except perhaps another Lennox. Damien however, the poor boy, always forgot one very important thing: he was a fourth child and a third son, of such little importance to his parents that he lived in their house for perhaps three days every summer but this one. Carlin, on the other hand, was the first daughter, the eldest child and her father’s prized heir. She had been trained to use every ounce of charisma and method of attraction she had since her seventh birthday, when it had become clear that Jared would not return to the family therefore she was elevated to a higher station than a mere daughter. She would inherit everything that her father had; Damien would be given whatever his parents felt like sparing for him, and whatever her own deigned to offer their favourite nephew. Manipulation ran in her blood, and, for her, seduction was often easier than breathing. Damien might be a Lennox but Carlin was the Lennox. It was that pride that kept her chin high, her shoulders squared and her smirk always curving her mouth, even when those not deserving of her attention slandered her name and her reputation. Though...was it truly slander if what they were saying was mostly true?

“You won’t be telling me anything,” Carlin remarked in a hushed voice, one hand fluffing her hair artfully. There was a definite talent needed to look as good as she did; not everyone could manage it. “You, dear cousin, will be getting my books for me while I take some handsome stranger over into a quiet corner until he believes me when I say that I’ve never wanted anyone as much as him.” He, whoever he ended up being, would probably believe her words too, Carlin knew. Boys were often such fools that she honestly pitied them. Speaking of which...Carlin fixed her cousin with a mockingly compassionate gaze: “Anyway, aren’t you still chasing Hunter? The bet isn’t finished until the deed is done or you give up. Are you giving up?” Anyone who knew Damien knew that he would sooner charm Flitwick than admit defeat so his sharp response was entirely unnecessary but thoroughly amusing. Teasing him was always so very easy; almost too easy but not enough so to take away the entertainment.

Much to her shame, Carlin heard a short, sharp yelp of surprise and alarm escape her mouth as her centre of gravity shifted due to something causing her knees to buckle until the floor met her back with a painful thud. Before her eyes closed reflexively, she saw Damien instinctively step back before she could accidentally pull him down with her before coming to his senses and reaching out to try and catch her elbow to steady her. Judging by the mild shocks of pain and her new position on the floor, Damien’s hesitation had cost him the chance to help her and so Carlin scowled at him ferociously, especially once she heard his quiet amusement at her situation. Her cheeks flushed angrily, humiliation flooding through her. Uncharacteristically, she scrabbled for the edge of her skirt, desperately pulling it down to a more decent length from where it had flown nearly up to her hips during the fall. She was Carlin Gabrielle Lennox, she was rich and beautiful and perfectly, icily composed at all times; these sorts of things simply did not happen to her. Accidents approached warily, eyed her and then fled in the opposite direction! So why, exactly, was she sprawled across the floor, lacking in any semblance of dignity or mystery?

The sound of someone talking dragged her abruptly out of her shock and, not bothering to fix her mussed hair even though strands of it obscured her vision, Carlin raised her head to rest her eyes on the cause of her misfortune. “You,” she hissed venomously, her humiliation instantly transforming into fury at the sight of the boy. Ignoring his hand pointedly, Carlin rose to her feet under her own power, dishevelled and with reddened cheeks still but clearly clinging to the remnants of her pride like it was all she had left. Indeed, with the beginnings of tears sparking in her eyes, there wasn’t much else left for her to depend on.

Damien stepped to her side hurriedly, eyes flicking between Carlin and the Gryffindor as if he expected them to leap at each other in a vicious rage. Carlin relaxed minutely. Damien would always be there to defend her, even if they both knew that she was perfectly capable of doing it herself. If he was stepping in then she could rest safely in the knowledge that there was something worthy of her approval working behind those blue eyes of his. “Edward Shaw, right?” The words were posed as a question but Carlin didn’t doubt that Damien was entirely certain of the boy’s identity. He made an effort to try to know everybody as part of his method for reeling in conquests; he claimed that people reacted better if they thought that he knew their name before flirting with them. “I’m Damien Lennox; the girl you sent literally head over heels for you is my cousin, Carlin.” Damien tipped his head to the side, white teeth shining in a smile that almost promised satisfaction for what Edward had done to Carlin. “Perhaps you’ve heard of us.”