Cobra
Anonymous
Harry Potter smells of the fresh night air, sun dried sheets, broom
cleaning kits and a little of sweet pollens. He has always smelled this way,
when we first met in Madam Malkin's before our first year, and now in our fifth
year. Oh, how Harry’s smell intoxicates all my senses to the very brink of
insanity.
At eleven I had still known with my veelan senses and culture that I
had to have him all to myself. I remember crying on the way home bec my
my
mother would not go searching for the little boy with the messy black hair and
broken glasses. I went to bed without dinner, as my father was not very pleased
with my childish fit.
On the train I was full of excitement, my
boy was on as well, he was
starting Hogwarts too. I had to find him with his untidy head of hair and big
green eyes. Nevertheless well on my search I had gotten drift that Harry Potter
was on board and was also starting his first year. I was determined that I had
to meet him. Strutting to the compartment he was said to be in I slid the door
open with my divine flourish and strode in.
What I saw angered me so greatly even at my early age I nearly lost my
will over my demon within. My veelan urges wanted release when I saw
Harry with a Weasley. But I quickly regained control, convincing
myself that Harry didn’t know that he was mine, and that Weasley was filthy,
poor trash. I’d just have to tell him.
As I am sure you are well aware of is that telling him did no good; in
fact it has done no good for the last four years of school. But now I have the
perfect plan to gain favor with You-Know-Who and win over my Harry from the
filth of his so called friends. Well, he’ll soon what kind of friends they
really are.
I have just finished the first peace of correspondence with the great
Saint Potter, which will change his blind eye of innocence to the lies and
deceit of his life. Of course it will have to stay anonymous written with a
Not-me-Quill. Potter will soon wished he had taken my hand that day on the
Hogwarts’ Express.
Turning Potter against all those he loves is a simply beautiful
arrangement. Leaving him hurting and all alone with no protection from my
caring charms and affections, making it not very difficult to have him fall in
love with me. For he will love me
and only me, I’ll make sure of it.
I really can’t take all the credit for my devious plan to convert
Potter. Both my parents and my cousin Blaise have contributed their marvelous
talents and creative thoughts to my most recent project. If I had known that my
cousin made such a delightful lackey I’d have gotten rid of those two retched
buffoons centuries ago. I may have acquired Harry ages ago if dare I say that I
hadn’t been so blind to Blaise’s valuable talents.
I must find a way to thank him personally. Never would have gotten as
much done in such a short time without him supplying the illegal Veritaserum
and having such unmatched skills with Obliviate, to that of only Lockhart. With
these handy skills and my debonair we were both able to during the earlier
summer to snatch both Weasel and Lady Buck Teeth from their precious homes and
dig up all the nasty little secrets involving my dear Harry. And what gentle
man am I to keep these new findings to myself.
I lean back into the thick black leather chair I had resided myself on
while I composed my letters. I sigh in pleasantly through my nose, as my
thoughts bring upon me arousal and contentment. A quick glance to my blond
haired cousin causes my curiosity to surface at the large ancient tom that
rests heavily in his lap.
“Oh dear cousin, what is it that is so interesting in that terribly old
book?” I ask with my usual unconcerned drawl.
Matching gray eyes glance up through thick white lashes before looking
back down to the tiny print on thick parchment, “ About the Evelien family.
Their recent doings are quite interesting.”
I stiffen at the familiar name. It is too early to burrow into this
mystery. Though I am curious at what the great Evelien family has been up to as
of late. Knowing Blaise, I will have to ask what it is that is so fascinating
about the Eveliens’ that we don’t already know.
I stretch s sea seated and I hear my knees and lower back crack from
their first movement in a couple of hours. I lean forward, my elbows resting
precociously on my knees while my sleep heavy head rests in my left hand. My
right fidgets with a crease in my pants tickling my left knee. I clear my
throat, ”And what is it that is so amazing that we do not already know?”
He glares but then sighs with open annoyance restrests his thin delicate
hands tinged pink from the flowing blood underneath his pail skin on the water
marked pages of the still large open book. After clearing his throat he looks
strait into my eyes before looking back down to his hands fidgeting with
creased page corners, “There isn’t much that we do not already know. I am at
present reading on the most currant events dealing with Lord Noe and his
family.”
I yawn and drowsily nod my head. I wave my right hand for him to
continue.
“Noe is negotiating with our lord on keeping his French territory in
exchange for an alliance. Also he will
be sending his youngest son Odin as a gift of friendship.”
I raise an eyebrow at this odd news, “I thought they had a daughter?
Why not send her as a gift, I know for a fact that our lord does not stray to
the same sex.”
Blaise nodded his head in agreement before licking his cherry pink
lips, “It would be logical if she wasn’t cursed.”
I straiten in my chair at his words, “Cursed?”
Another nod, “It seems so. An adversary of some sort cast a curse on
her to make her slowly go mad. They have yet to find a cure.”
“Does it say what curse was used?” I look on in aww as he shakes his
head. Simply amazing that an old family like the Eveliens would have such
trouble with a curse of any sort.
Blaise looked at me than my finished letters, “Don’t you have something
more direr to do than bother my reading?”
I wave him off as I stand and stretch, this time feeling bones crack
back into place. I pick up the letters and head out of the chilly common room
to the even colder dungeon passages beyond. The Owlry is calling my name.