poetry ; james potter

- 02

Isla Brooks is an easily captivated lady.

She is a seventh year Hufflepuff, she was patient and warm, bright and interesting. Isla is a straightforward girl, she speaks her opinions, she keeps up with her grades, she's kind to whoever treats her good.

Her long wavy light brown hair that reaches her upper waist, and her green eyes seems lighter that it almost seems like hazel. Her defined cheekbones and angled jawline, her thick eyebrows and rosy lips added onto her features.

Now, Isla wouldn't claim to be a gorgeous girl. Her looks were average, but she has tons of pleasing personalities. So that's probably why she's sorted into the house of badgers.

Isla Brooks wasn't a famous figure in school, she'd rather label herself as a person living in the sideline just trying to go on with life..

There's nothing specifically special about her that makes the public overly turns their attention to her.

Her blood status being a half blood didn't also get her to be the bullies - Slytherin mostly - target. People barely looks at her way.

She's a perfect, top notch in Professor Sprout's class, she's helpful - she assist lots of students who needs help - and considerate. But there's nothing about her that would entertain their oh so thrilled minds.

She was simple.

Unlike some group who roamed around the halls of Hogwarts - specifically four boys who fancies calling themselves 'the Marauders' - are actually popular because of their ongoing cause of havoc and destruction everywhere.

Everyone - mostly Gryffindors - practically praises their ideas for pranks and how they always give other students good laughs (not the professors though).

A lot suspects they do it for attention, or the guys are just gits who likes messing around and target anyone they thought would be great to plan.

Despite the marauders being already seventh year - one with the title of Head Boy and the other being a goody two shoes of a prefect - they were still on with marauder-ship. Throwing dungbombs in classes, setting fireworks in corridors, setting the lunch meal with Veritaserum to make students blurt weird facts about themselves never seems to get old into their book.

Anyways, right. Isla Brooks is a simple girl. Not that flashy, nor that humorous.

She was just... Isla Brooks.

The girl who doesn't like getting herself into a huge friendship group, likes Herbology, finds magical creatures fascinating, and has a weird obsession for poems.

Yes, Isla loves poems. In fact, her muggle mother gives her a book of poems with different volumes every Christmas as a gift. She reads a lot of them, of course.

That's why, she sat on her bed in the seventh year girls dormitory, the parchment she had found under the moonlight last night laid on her lap, reading every sentence in awe.

For a moment, she could assume the poem was for her to be found and for her to be written. She could only wish for whoever wrote this would write more.

"Come on, Isla! Breakfast will be serve soon!"

Isla lift her head up at Emily, one of her best friends and her dorm mate, from across the room. Emily was adjusting her tie whilst chatting away with Linda - one of their friends - about the latest gossip going around.

Isla sighed and folded the paper and stuff it inside the drawer of her nightstand, as she stood up and took her Hufflepuff tie that was laying on her bed and lace it around her collar.