Who: Tracey Davis & Theodore Nott
When: Wednesday Evening.
Where: Slytherin Common Room, Then by the lake?
What: Walking, talking.
Rating: PG
Status: In Progress
Tracey shut her journal and looked at it for a moment. It was so close to Christmas and her Father still hadn't owled her. Pushing away the resentment she felt, Tracey got up and headed towards the 7th year girls dorms. Climbing the stairs, her mind flitted amongst all the random thoughts in her head. Approaching her bed, Tracey placed her journal safely under her pillow. She noticed that the house-elves had washed and folded her school robes and were neatly folded at the end of her bed.
Checking her reflection in the mirror she ran hern delicate hands through her dark brown hair. Throwing on a black scarf and picking up a pair of gloves, Tracey made the descent back down the stairs to the Common Room. Seeing that Theodore was not there yet, Tracey sat back down in her favorite chair opposite the fireplace. As she waited, she surveyed her neatly manicured hands while singing a tune lightly under her breath. The young girl had a lovely voice, although very few people had heard it. Her Mother had urged her to join the choir, but Tracey made it clear that she would rather die before she would sing infront of the whole school. Besides, chior was her Mother's thing.
Absently twirling her hair around her finger, Tracey stared into the fire; waiting for Theodore..
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