Raised as an orphan, Nel Saintday, endured years of torture from the Slytherin House. The Dark Lord only allowed her existence for her to serve a very specific vile purpose for him. Her birthright dictates for her to choose a side in the Wizarding W...
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"And then? What happened?"
"Nothing," The girl shrugged her shoulders as she sat on the floor of the greenhouse surrounded by growing vines leaning her back on a wooden table on which dozens of colorful pots which held some strange and most peculiar plants. "I told them about it."
"My father will hear about this!" Daphne paced around the Slytherin Common Room late one night. "He'll know what to do," She said referring to the fact that her father was a fearsome prosecutor in the Wizarding World.
Normally Tracey would've made a joke of Daphne sounding like Malfoy, but it really wasn't the time or place. The Quidditch fanatic was sitting with her head ducked in between her hands.
"Don't. There's no point," Nel let out a drained and exhausted sigh. "Ellar Lestrange is practically 'untouchable.'"
"Why is he?" Tracey suddenly snapped her nostrils flaring as she sat up erect. "Why is he so damn godly and untouchable? Just because he's a Lestrange?" She spat out the last name with resentful bitterness.
"We have to do something," Daphne insisted. "If not, he's going to do the same thing- perhaps, something worse to somebody else," she stressed the somebody and the importance of holding him accountable for his assault.
Despite Daphne's insistence and Tracey's frustration Nel remained silent. She had her knuckles pressed to her lips and she seemed lost in thought, head pessimistically shaking slightly from side to side.
"What can we do?" She gave them both a defeated look. She really had turned ever nut in bolt in her head endlessly trying to think of a way to even things out – even a way to hurt Ellar Lestrange.
"Please," Tracey scoffed, dark eyes rolling. "Everybody has a weakness. We just have to find out what his is!" She said determined, her expression mimicking her friend who was sitting next to her in the black leather sofa.
"Yes," Daphne began murmuring. "Yes, yes, yes..." She anxiously paced over, and over which made Elowen dizzy. It seemed like the lightbulb went off when she finally stopped and clapped her hands together. "I'll write to my cousin in France. Perhaps she knows a thing or two."
"I've also written to Professor Lupin. Maybe he knows a thing or two as well."
"Lupin?" Daphne wrinkled her nose in distaste at the werewolf. Why? Her knitted brow said. Nel ignored it.
"A werewolf? Teaching?" Nathair interrupted. "Filthy," He hissed. "I've seen them, lost packs hunting together in the Forbidden Forest. Formidable creatures."
Irritated Nel lightly flicked the tip of the snake's snout. The adder hissed at her in response flashing its large fangs. She seemed unfazed by this gesture. "Most creatures seem to agree with me." It spoke to her as it coiled around her neck seeking the warmth of her human body.
