Kalon
/kA-lon/
(n.) Beauty that is more
than skin-deep
❝In the dark depth of her steel gaze, you can see the brightest of the stars.
She has magic in her eyes that even the stars envy.❞
"Blimey Fred, are you one of those anguished cursed poets now...
Betelgeuse has been lounging on her favoured sofa in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place when Castor came souring down through the open window. The owl left a letter in her lap, perching himself on the broad shoulders of the man in the room.
Betelgeuse opened the letter. In demonic strings of barely legible letters, Fred informed her of the wonders of Egypt. Betelgeuse let out a pearl of laughter when she read that the twins had tried to seal Percy in an ancient tomb. Ron had scrawled a Post Scriptum in the letter, saying that Harry's birthday was approaching, being on the 31 of July, and he was sad he could not see him. The letter was dated a week ago, Betelgeuse noted. Today was Harry Potter's birthday.
Betelgeuse paused, thinking, "Do you deem safe for me to pay a visit to Harry Potter?" She asked the man with a curious tone.
She observed him frown, "I suppose we could arrange something," he responded with a pensive look.
Betelgeuse grinned, "I will go immediately, then." She walked to the hallway, put on her black leather jacket, and made her way back to the man. The man's heart skipped a beat; with black high-waisted jeans, a t-shirt with some Muggle rock group he could not identify on it, and the black leather jacket, she looked just like Sirius.
Betelgeuse watched his noble countenance falter, "All right?" She asked, walking to the man.
"Nothing is amiss, Meus Stella. You are radiant, as always," He responded, regaining his usual aloof visage. Betelgeuse narrowed her eyes, fixing him with a steadfast look.
"Tsk, tsk, Betelgeuse," he chastised softly, having understood what she was trying to do. Betelgeuse huffed, walking to the black oak front door.
"I shall return before supper," she informed the still smirking man. "Kreacher," she called out, "Can you apparate me at Little Whinging in Surrey?"
The old elf bowed, taking Betelgeuse's hand in his bony one. The girl felt as if she was pressed very hard from all directions. She was used to apparating, but the sensation was never a pleasant one. They suddenly touched the ground in a secluded park. Betelgeuse saw a road sign, it read 'Magnolia Crescent'. She turned to the house-elf, "Thank you again, Kreacher." She observed him bow and disappear in thin air. The girl began strolling down the quiet road, glancing around. The neighbourhood consisted of a number of dull, boxy houses with gardens at the front and back.
How tedious.
Eventually, Betelgeuse arrived at a crossroad. There she spied the road sign indicating 'Privet Drive'. She marched with resolution down the street, searching for the number four. The Black girl noticed some Muggles peer at her with snobbish distance. She reasoned that it was because she was a stranger and because of her choice of attire.
