the ugly truth ( AMARA )

[Nicholas James Potter]

now i'm no longer an ordinary man
was this your big plan?

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Nick really had no idea what to do. Sitting in a chair, doodling on a piece of parchment he had left over from his homework. The ink absorbed into the off white parchment, the sound of his quill running along making a slight scratching sound as it glided along the page. He was inevitably bored after the completion of his homework had finished. There were others still finishing, and at his table he'd been second to finish. He looked up at his notes, only to find an empty page sitting before him. A wave of confusion swept over him, followed by a sense of realization. Turning over the page he'd been doodling on, Nick discovered the homework he had done, the last page of it that he had worked so long on, had perfected with a ton of thought and imagination, now tarnished with the sight of an indescribable doodle on the back of it. Now that was impressive, even for Nick to have done. He grumbled under his breath and sighed, sitting back in his chair. It cause a few eyebrows around him to raise, but he shrugged it off as if it were nothing. Just what he needed to top off an already perfect day - he had already spilled his ink down his new school robes, accidentally spit out his pumpkin juice on a poor First Year after he heard an exceptional joke, and had tripped over an old cobblestone on the way back from Care of Magical Creatures. Nick had many more possibilities of ways to be injured, it just depended on what he did for the remainder of his night that would open up new opportunities to hurt himself. He was debating what he would do with the last leg of his day, and it came down to either spending the time in the Common Room avoiding potential danger or going outside and facing the world that today seemed to want him to be in as much pain as possible. Either that or some students were pranking him, which he would not doubt. Being a Potter made him a target for ridicule and pranks from other students, especially the Malfoys and the other Death Eaters children. That was just the way life went.

He decided upon going outside. Not the most ideal choice for a possible target of prank amusement, but Nick would just have to take his chances and move with caution. He wore the standard Converse trainers on his feet, and he double checked to make sure they'd been tied up. Call him cautious, but he was just making all the precautions before heading out, in case he got caught up in a chaotic round of joking that was placed directly at him. He would pay no mind to it, mind you, but he really only liked pranking wars between his friends, or when he actually had a team and was not easily outnumbered one to eight or nine. He collected himself as he made his way out the door, in his uniform minus the cloak and sweater vest, and had rolled up the off white sleeves of the uniform shirt. His hair was in its usual unruly curls, and he could not help that. He had inherited his father's hair, and there was no way for it to be tamed. He'd tried everything from potions to spells to just getting it cut, but it always grew back and fell back into its natural way of being. Nick had given up over the many years of struggle and just dealt with it. He exited the Common Room by pushing the door open, and going down the many staircases it took for him to land on the main level to get outside. He envied so slightly the Hufflepuffs and Slytherins who could easily pass from their Common Room right out to the grounds. Nick once had tried to take his broom and fly down, only to get scolded by a teacher. It had been much easier, but then again, he had nearly collided with two or three staircases on the way down. The sound of his footfalls on the marble echoed before being shut out by the groaning of a shifting staircase. He was one of few traveling out at the time, which he liked. It meant nothing could sneak up on him and prank him. He finally descended to the main floor, and left through the large oak doors, leaving with him a sense of confidence. But that shattered as he saw a First Year being questioned by a Slytherin Seventh Year, and Nick shook his head. Poor kid. There was nothing Nick could do but look at the kid, until a genius thought entered his head.

He pulled out his wand stealthily, and pointed it at the kid after crossing his arms, so that the blame did not immediately go to him. A quick nonverbal spell was all it took, and Nick had made the pants drop on the guy, so he was embarrassed by the fact that he no longer was wearing pants properly. The First year ran away laughing, and the onlookers nearby joined in. Nick smirked, shaking his head a bit as he walked on, down the stone steps to Hagrid's Hut. He did not know why that was the first place he thought of when he stepped outside, but Nick knew it had been a place his father frequented. So why would Nick want to follow his father's footsteps? It bewildered him, and he contemplated the thought as he mused along down the steps, ending up in the pumpkin patch near the hut. From what Nick could tell, nobody was inside. So Nick sat on the front step of Hagrid's Hut, plucking golden daffodil petals from their flowers, and letting them flutter to the ground. Nick kind of wished he'd thought of bringing someone along with him for an adventure, or possibly even just a walk, but it was too late for that. Owling someone would just be unnecessary now. Maybe someone would chance upon his lonely presence there and come to his rescue before boredom kidnapped him.

words; 1038 !:: music; kings of leon - be somebody :: tagging; amara wood !
image credit goes to JAM IT JACK! @ CAUTION 2.0

[Amara Wood]

i left my head and my
heart on the dancefloor,

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Studying, revising, homework. None of these words appealed at all to Amara, and by the looks of things, the words seemed to be revolting to everyone. Studying was horrendous, whoever invented it should have had their hare ripped off, and hanged. A bit harsh, but Amara's anger was boiling over. Some teachers just loved to build the homework up, pressing it all down on her small shoulders. Maybe they were all working together, so to try and make Amara insane, maybe she'd crack and have a huge meltdown, so they'd have a reason to expel her. Well, Amara was far from liked by any of the teachers. She could learn, of course she could. It was just sitting in a stuffy room for hours, just listening to the teacher;s voice constantly. How could anyone keep their concentration? Amara rarely showed any commitment to her school work. She'd much rather learn on her own. It suited her, to be allowed to tent to her own mind. She would do it. She just had a slower pace than everyone else. And sixth year was coming down pretty hard on her. Double the homework, double the hours, and even in free periods, it was utterly depressing, because her friends all had atleast a chance at passing their exams, Amara, on the other hand, there was no hope for her. And she knew it. She'd probably have to get held back and repeat sixth year. Sad.

Amara was in a calm, warm slumber. She was lying infront of the fireplace, with her body stretched across the whole of the rich red colored sofa. She looked happy when dreaming. She loved her sleep, it was escaping from all the pressure and work. Dreaming was what was really magic. Everything else was nonsense. Amara's friends sat close by, at the table next to the window, where a ray of hot sunshine beamed through the window, and into the room. They were all surrounded by huge, tattered old books, rolls of parchment, and scraps of notes that had been kept safe over the years, but had become all crinkled and stained from the lack of use. They all muttered under their breaths, trying to work out an answer that would be impossible to solve by Amara. They would each glance over to Amara, with both an envied look, and a watchful look. They probably wished for Amara's approach on work, but they wanted to succeed, so would gather their bearings before scribbling harshly onto parchment. Amara's hand dangled over the edge of the sofa, and one of the sixth years, knowing Amar's ability - to project and take in thoughts from another person's mind, - and they'd be exeptionally rude, in invading her dreams, but Amara didn't have much to hide. She was dreaming of only a meadow. With lovely green grass, and flowers cattered around the place. The meadow was surrounded by trees. It was Amara's happy place. She would even daydream of it. The sixth year creeped over, bent down next to Amara, and gently touched his hand with hers. His eyes became blank as he saw what she saw, and he let go, looking quite pleased. He then sighed, a little disappointed, probably hoping for her to be dreaming of her crush. But Amara didn't have one, not yet. And as her hand was dropped, she snorted, shooting up into consciousness. She looked up to the sixth year boy and shoved him out of her way as she stood up. She knew perfectly well what had happened, because he'd appeared in her dream. Idiot. She left the Common Room without speaking. She stormed down the staircase in her stylish boots. She made school uniform her own, taking a shirt, unbuttoning the top buttons, and wearing a tight skirt that only went down to the top of her knees, and patterned tights. She was envied and scorned for her choice of clothing. She didn't want the uniform that was 'decent' or 'acceptable', this was 2024! Teachers needed to modernize.

As Amara reached the bottom of the Grand Staircase, finally cooling off, she saw something. A Slytherin with his pants around his ankles. He looked horrified, but the young first year seemed very amused by it. Amara was sure that the first year didn't do that, and the only other culprit on the floor. Nick Potter. Amara smirked as she watched him walking outside. She followed after him, but kept a distance. She strolled along the grass, wishing she had her shows off. She loved the feel of the small blades of grass in the ground between her toes. She began to hum a small tume along their way to Hagrid's Hut. He hadn't heard her. She sighed, stopping just across from him and placing both hands on her hips, looking unimpressed at herself. Then she walked on, seeing him turn around and sit down on the step. Amara knelt down infront of him, reached out and placed her palm onto his knee. 'Nice late-day stroll, huh? How're you getting on?,' she thought. She rarely spoke out loud. She enjoyed flaunting her ability. She was the only one that could do it. She kept her hand there, guessing he may think something back to her rather than speak. Most of Amara's conversations with friends consisted of her hand touching them, and they'd have a nice, private talk. It was great in classes when a teacher ordered silence, Amara could just brush her body against someone else, and project a sentence to them. It wasn't that Amara disliked speaking, she just enjoyed to show her power. And everyone knew about it, well hopefully apart from the teachers.

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tag, nick potter !
credit, me !
image, dolcas @ caution !
status, done !

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[Nicholas James Potter]

now i'm no longer an ordinary man
was this your big plan?

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Uprooting yet another dandelion from its rightful place in the ground, he plucked off the fragile petals with some admittance to being a bit envious of the people running by. It was a couple, perhaps in Fifth or Sixth Year, chasing each other while laughing raucously through the pumpkin patch to the Forest. He shook his head, watching as they disappeared through the thick of trees ahead. He wished he had a girlfriend. Sort of. He'd like a girlfriend who was around to be there for him, one who wanted him for him instead of just wanting to experience being with a Potter. Names were of no significance to him. The fact that so many people compared him to his father shook him to his very last nerve some days. He was supposed to be living up to a figure who had shown no more than teenage angst and a will to survive? Nick was not up for being the big hero, not like his father. There was nobody following him to kill him, and if there was, he was sure to have found them or at least found a note or appearance of intimidation from the opposing end. Nick was content with his friends, being the leaning support and the prankster along with just being fun to be around. If, some day, trouble arose, he would not jump out in a heroic fashion. That would just be rather ridiculous looking. He would fight, but not just to look like the new Harry Potter. That's apparently what girls thought he was striving for, so one girl had told him. She'd done everything in her power in their Fourth Year to put herself into trouble near him so that he could save her. It got to the point where is agitated him and he ended the relationship, leaving her to compare him with the breakups his father had staged with girls. Great.

He dropped the dandelion unexpectedly while his thoughts preoccupied him. Looking down at his Converse trainers dejectedly, he raised an eyebrow. If only he could be just like the dandelion, growing endlessly and randomly, only to either be stomped on or picked and pulled apart. No, never mind, he didn't want to be just like that dandelion. That was not the type of life he wanted to experience. So distracted by his thoughts and the fact that he was looking down caused him to miss Amara coming toward him. She had a thing for speaking through thought by touching people, and by touching his knee, her thoughts were magically projected to him, causing him to jump back and surprise and knocked his head against the wall behind him. He had been jerked out so fast from his thoughts that it had caused him pain, and he looked in front of him to see Amara looking at him, touching his knee. The echo of her thought to him remained in his mind, like his mind was a vast, empty cave and she was yelling into it. He looked at her, and had to smile. Unfortunately, when he smiled, Nick happened to sport fangs and they were always seen. Amara and Nick had discussed, or rather argued, about the possibility that Nick was a vampire. Nick had dismissed the possibility, although Amara had existing proof. Nick had made his mind to himself before Amara got suspicious that he would not make it known to anyone about his vampire ability, and although Amara was a best friend, someone he had known for such a long time and kept his secrets as he kept hers, he just could not bring himself to do it. He hid the fact of his fangs by speaking in return to her. He had the gift of blocking out thoughts, but he had not been using it to the full effect, so she had been able to interfere with his mind. "Hey Amara. You scared me with that, I wasn't paying attention. Usually you can't get into my head." He joked, smirking a bit with his mouth closed this time. He did not want to cause any more suspicion in her eyes, and by not showing his fangs, he averted the potential topic from his fangs, and from him being a vampire.

"Well, I finished all of my homework, and got so bored of waiting for others that I decided that a stroll would be in my interest." Nick said, rubbing the back of his head, which had a growing pain. There was no blood, thank goodness for that, but there was a pain in the back of his head slightly throbbing, and it hurt a bit. He was not going to make a big spectacle of it just yet; but if she taunted him enough he just might. "I'm alright, getting hungry, but i'm a guy, we do that. How about you? Were you wandering around stalking me?" asked Nick curiously, trying to keep the conversation light and not serious. Nick just wanted his friend Amara there to laugh with and be friendly to, because that was what he needed right now. Someone to be there to let him know that he had friends. There were times when he acted liked his father - like the world hated him and he was going to have to go through everything alone. But then came the time when he smartened up like his mother had taught him to and became more friendly. Everyone had a down time, and for Nick, it was when he was alone, thinking about the world and the people around him, the people who mattered most. After all, he was the lone wolf of the family - his older brother was estranged from him, and his younger twin sisters favoured Simon more than Nick, no doubt because he was the one to be looked up to. Nick had nobody but himself.

words; 1001 !:: music; kings of leon - be somebody :: tagging; amara wood !
image credit goes to JAM IT JACK! @ CAUTION 2.0