Turning Pages (Open)

Thinking on it, Beauxbatons wasn't so much different than Hogwarts as Agnes had often thought. The professors were better in France, older and experienced, but the people were the same. It was a Saturday, and Agnes should have been out at Hogsmeade, drinking butterbeer with strangers and buying Christmas gifts for friends. But she didn't have any friends to give anything to. Well, there was Aislinn, but Agnes didn't feel lik buying just one thing and then ignoring everyone in her House, even though shenwpuld most likely be ignored herself. She was laying on the floor, pictures and books scattered around, in one of the study rooms. There were pictures she had taken with her father's camera, and others that she had seen in books and had liked enough to cut them out and bring them with her.

Her pale skin was turning a soft shade of pink, because it was getting cold and she wore her pajama shorts and a Gryffindor hooded jacket. She wore many Gryffindor things, but she could care less about the House. Her hair was up in a pony tail, and she wore her sneakers without socks. Agnes was a mess, she didn't even worry about crossing paths with someone who could use her unkempt appearance to her disadvantage. Someone like Hunter who could eventually make fun of her for wearing what she was wearing now. Resting on her arm, Agnes pulled out a picture of Ansel from her book and looked at it. He looked like their father. Ansel had the same eyes, the same face shape and lips, and even the way he narrowed his eyes was similar to their father.

In the photograph, Ansel was only visible from the waist up, and his arms were crossed over his chest, and he wore a dress shirt and his loved suspenders. He looked directly at her, who was taking the photograph when he was twenty-one and she was twelve. She remembered being so infatuated with one of Ansel's friends, and even now she could see a hint of a shadow where that friend had stood near her brother when she snapped the picture. Smiling, Agnes hoped her brother wasn't giving their mother a hard time. She was perfectly fine where she was, just doing nothing but looking at pictures, resting on the cold stone floor. She thought for a moment how badly she wanted a camera, so she could photograph the few people she liked. Aislinn, Hunter, Professor Malfoy...she would even go as far as photographing Evan's cat.

She dwelled on that wish for a moment, the camera, and decided she would write to her brother and ask for one. He wouldn't deny her that. Just then, the door to the study room swung open and what was once her silent haven was no longer real. Sighing, she turned her body to face whoever had walked in.

This was absolute bullshit. Bullshit, bullshit, bullshit. Saying it three times in her head, gave the word even more effect than just saying it once. Miranda wasn't looking forward to this study hall shit. At Salem, they were smart enough to have classes without the study hall, and pass for that matter. Miranda walked in and noticed another girl sitting down. She rolled her eyes. She was still dressed in sweat pants and her mom's purple cloak. She didn't give a damn about the schools dress code. It was stupid. Ties? Skirts? Robes on top of that? BULL SHIT.

She sat down and got out some parchment, and started doodling. She would make this fucking doodle time. She didn't need no study hall to help her pass her classes. She tried telling the headmaster that, but for some fucking reason, he didn't listen. He put her in the class anyways. She didn't feel like socializing today anyways. She hoped this chick felt the same way. She started doodling pictures of her house in America. But that was the thing about her doodling. They always ended up being some sort of fucking masterpiece or some shit.

She pulled her short bobbed hair behind her ears and began the shading part of her drawing. It was the most complex part because she was doing this from memory. She had been in this school for almost three weeks, and had already forgotten what her house looked like. She looked up and tears started forming in her eyes as she tried to remember. It was then she started having a panic attack. She started breathing heavily, and hyperventilating. She couldn't move. She was stuck.