The hearth of the problem [Alexander]

[ANNELIESE PORTIA VAISEY]

Winter was a beautiful time of year, truly, but there were some days when the cold was far too much for Anneliese to take. She fond it unfortunate, on such days, that the Slytherin common room was located below the lake, as she didn’t have the benefit of looking out of window to see the ground beginning to ice over and sparkle with the magnificence of moisture gradually freezing on the tips of the grass and tree bark. Slytherin was the only house that was acceptable to her though, at least to be sorted into. It had been what her parents had wanted for her and so consequently it was what Anneliese wanted for herself.

The fire had been dosed the night before and when she ventured into the common area, Anneliese had to light it herself. She found it surprising that no one but her was there, but assumed that her fellow Slytherins were all out, perhaps visiting Hogsmeade or frolicking about the grounds. She had witnessed a group of third years putting water on one of the outside walkways to make it slick enough for them to slide over it. Anneliese had looked on rather worrisome that one of them were going to break their necks, but had kept her place and allowed them to continue their exploit without a word.

Watching the fire come to life she could see little figures in the orange glow. Anneliese sat back on the couch and since no one was around to look presentable for, so kicked off her heels to tuck her feet up onto the cushion. Her arm draped over the armrest and Anneliese laid her head in the crook of her elbow, her thick curls cascading down her back in a satin curtain. Observing the way that the flames licked at the air was rather hypnotizing and cause Anneliese to miss the fact that someone had approached her.

[blakers]

He woke up shivering and startled. His eyes and face felt warm, but his body could not stop shaking. His skin was cold and clammy from droplets of sweat creeping across as silent and cold as a killer. He blinked a few times trying to adjust his eyes to the pitch black darkness. Alexander's eyes shifted toward the window. It was dark and foggy, and not much could be made out due to the dew setting upon the sleek glass. But it was visibly raining. Well that might have been an understatement. The edges of the windowsill had begun to freeze due to the constantly dropping temperatures. He could almost feel the cold, night air seeping through the bolted window, and engulfing him in its animosity and malignance.

If you asked anyone in school what Alexander Lucian Rookwood was about they would all give similar answers: girls. He loved the company of a beautiful girl and had been around a lot. This isn't to say that he has slept around a lot, but he definitely was a player by all accounts. For every five girls he dated, he probably slept with only one of them. Alex was not the most down-to-earth sweetheart you will ever meet. Yes he had his moments, but most often he was cold-hearted, rude and stuck up. Of those "special moments", most were reserved for snatching up a girl that had caught his interest. If people hadn't noticed by the first time they met him, they definitely got the gist for his personality the second time they met him. Alexander Rookwood was all about business. He was harsh and straight to the point. Beating around the bush and eloquency were not qualities he found pride in, or even housed in his arsenal.

Getting up without making a sound, Alexander could hear the silence being replaced with the rhythmic, soft breathing of his roommates. One of them across the room even snored causing a couple of them to shift occasionally. He put his silky, but soft Slytherin robe on with pride and strode soundlessly across the floor apart from the rare creak of the wood. Taking one last look behind him, the boy made his way out to the chilling, but rather comforting silence.

The apple of his parents' eyes. That was Alexander Lucian Rookwood. He was a perfect Slytherin, in every imaginable way. And he did not spare the rest of the world from knowing. Handsome, cunning, charming, and occasionally cruel. These were just a few of the words that were imbedded into Alex's mind and body. And yes...they fit into the Slytherin mold so seemlessly, so effortlessly. His parents had brought him up among families of prestige and honor, the oldest wizarding families to grace this world. Proper Slytherin values were instilled into him as an imperative tradition.

As Alexander made his way down the dark, winding staircase from the dormitories he made out a figure kneeled closely to the fireplace. Her sillouhette was outlined by the constantly moving flames. The Slytherin boy dared to inch forward a little at a time, not knowing exactly what to expect. His eyes were trained on the rythmic flares lighting up the mystery girl's every curve. Finally reaching her, Alex Rookwood hesitated, not really knowing what words to spit out.

[ANNELIESE PORTIA VAISEY]

The way that the flames seemed to entice the air around them appeared rather chaotic. Anneliese could feel the heat washing over her cheeks. It was a rather pleasant sensation really as the rest of her body held that cold dampness that so often came with winter, like ice glazing over your bones. A shiver rippled through her body almost unnoticeable in her current lulled state. But Anneliese was never the type to simply slip into a moment of complete silence. She was a practical sort of person, mind always turning, restless. Her father was very specific about this little quality in her. Having opinions was tolerable in women, as long as they weren’t overly keen to share them when they hadn’t been asked to.

At the moment, with the fire fueling her thought process, she couldn’t help but make certain associations from the seemingly erratic directions of the blaze to her own life. People only ever saw the perfect little picture that the Vaisey family put up. They were well to do and with that came a necessity to uphold their respectability. It was why Anneliese had been trained, rather than raised, to be a proper lady. How long and hard she had spent learning to smile with just the right touch of mystique, and to speak coyly without sounding weak minded. The association to this strict upbringing and the frenzied fire wasn’t anything that one could see externally, but rather how hectic being some perfect little china doll could make her feel. She was always so terrified of doing something that would displease someone important.

Alexander’s approach had been quiet, not nearly enough to snap Anneliese out of her daze, so to speak, but she was only fixated on the fireplace for a few moments longer. Something else was warming her, that tingling sensation that one got when a pair of eyes were looking directly at you. Call it intuition, paranoia, whatever you will, but for that very reason, Anneliese felt the need to glance behind her, tearing her gaze away from the flames. Taking in the full length of the boy’s body she was a bit surprised that he hadn’t said anything to her yet. It could have just been that Alexander hadn’t wanted to disturb her it was likely that Anneliese had looked rather peaceful as she was.

Straightening her posture Anneliese offered Alexander an inviting smile. “Good evening Alexander” She greeted kindly. There were a couple things that Anneliese noticed right away. First, they were alone. And second was that she had been sitting there much longer than she had thought as Alexander was dressed in his nightclothes. “Would you care to join me? You seem, if it isn’t too bold of me to say, a bit distraught.” His complexion was just the slightest bit discoloured, almost as though he’d woken in a fright. But that was silly to think of someone like Alexander Rookwood, wasn’t it?

[blakers]

Darkness. A rather odd word in his opinion. How could something so mesmerizing and materalistic as the night sky be interlaced with something so forbidden and malevolent? People really were naive and misinformed. The word meant many different things, but for Alexander Rookwood it meant two in particular at this very moment. It was the definition for what the nighttime looked like, covering the earth in a black shroud that was only interrupted sparingly by stars and the moon. Tonight even those sparkling, celestial objects in the sky were obscured by the clouds that had also made their way to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They had been present all day, dark and grey, almost black, hiding the sun from existence it seemed. Yes, the day had been full of darkness, and now the night just made it that much worse.

But there was another definition of darkness. One that demanded his undivided attention; one that caused him to stir restlessly in the hours of his wake and his sleep. The side of the darkness brought upon the wizarding world first by the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort. He was one of the greatest wizards of all time, and the man Alexander was raised to uphold. Yet, he was dead. Killed in battle by a half-blood that possessed less that a tenth of the skill of Lord Voldemort. But there were still followers; people that still stood the stance of the Dark Lord's will. To purge the wizarding world of impure blood. A frightening, yet thrilling manifesto for power that Alex was undeniably attracted to.

As a large downpour of rain began pattering against the windowpane, almost as if each wave was the crash of a violent tsunami, his attention drifted back into reality. Everything that had happened five minutes ago ended just as that: A distant memory of a nightmare. Annelise had stopped her constant movement along with the flames to sit rather rigidly. She turned around to examine him for just a moment before greeting him with an inviting smile. "Good evening, Alexander." Sadly, the Slytherin boy simply wasn't able to return her smile with identical enthusiasm, but he tried his best. "I'd say it's rather far past evening, wouldn't you Annelise?" he responded, with a polite smile and nod of acknowledgement. Obviously, the girl had been rather absorbed in her train of thought all while the flames flickered in her eyes. But he certainly couldn't blame her, considering he himself had that same mannerism.

Annelise kept her eyes on his clothes, causing Alex to become somewhat suspicious. Looking down, he noticed the marvel that caught her attention was the fact that he was in his nightclothes. He suppressed a small chuckle of laughter back into his throat, shaking the thought from his mind. "Would you care to join me? You seem, if it isn't too bold of me to say, a bit distraught." Anne's delicate, courteous voice permeated the hollow common room. Hesitating just the slightest, Alexander moved to sit next to her. "Not too bold at all Miss Vaisey. Thank you for your concern, but um...I think I'm quite alright." Alex replied in hushed tone, attempting to hide his obvious agitation. His eyes took a moment to adjust to the bright tails of flame. They immediately heated his cheeks and caused a warm, satisifed sensation to run down his cold body. No wonder Annelise Vaisey spent such an extended period of time down here. The feeling was marvelous; almost intoxicating.

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[ANNELIESE PORTIA VAISEY]

Her gaze flickered down to her hands, delicate fingers interlaced with one another sitting calmly in her lap, void of any fidgeting despite the burning desire to indulge in a bit of distracting behavior such as threading the hem of her skirt between her fingers or tracing the pleats that creased it. She felt shameful having to admit something becoming to Alexander. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know. As I’m sure you know we females can often get captivated by awfully girlish daydreaming. I seem to be no exception, the time slipped by me. Is it terribly late?” Looking back up at Alexander her eyes held the wide-eyed innocence of a cautious yearling. Of all the things that Anneliese could have ever been considering, foreboding or intimidating had never been one of them, and never would be.

She was a simple girl really, very predictable. Anneliese knew her place in the world and very rarely strayed from it. Was it a bit dull to be as compliant and timid as she was? Yes, of course, but she was young and a woman to boot. In her world there wasn’t much room for spontaneity or frivolity. As old fashioned as it might have been, Anneliese was meant to sit there and look pretty, the job description of the most archaic type. Conversation was necessary as well, otherwise it might lead people to believe that she were a mute or perhaps daft, neither of which were true in even the slightest of ways. Anneliese had to be careful of what she did and did not say and whom she said it around. When it came to a Rookwood, Anneliese was clear on what she needed to do.

Boring him was not an option, but being random, disrespectful, unaccommodating, or too witty were equally as taboo. His hesitation, both to join her and to answer her had Anneliese worried for a moment. She feared that she had been too bold. After all it was no business of hers as to what had stirred Alexander at the late hour in which they found themselves. Anneliese, watching him soak up the warmth of the fire, found that a smile had appeared on her lips. “You’re welcome of course.” Her head bowed respectfully, taking his thanks with the utmost grace.

Shadows danced across Alexander’s features and Anneliese did notice that he was, indeed, even more handsome in this particular light. “Are you looking forward to the holidays?” She questioned conversationally after giving him a good few seconds to settle himself onto the couch to his liking and enjoy the blazing fire. With winter came that refreshing sensation of family togetherness, at least it did for her and not only to keep from having any awkward silences pass, she was curious as to how the Rookwoods went about celebrating. Sure Anneliese already knew of some of the parties that they attended, as her family did as well, but on a more personal level- she was intrigued.