Laura Madley really wants a baby, thanks. (fashionedmadley) wrote in unforgivenrpg, @ 2010-09-15 20:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | 2000-09, c: ernie macmillan, c: laura madley, type: narrative, type: thread |
RP Narrative: Laura Madley (Open to Ernie)
Character(s): Laura (Open to Ernie if he's home/around, otherwise this is a one-shot narrative)
Location: The Madley home
When: During/Right after the Dark Lord's reminder
What: Laura is filled with fear in addition to the remorse she was already feeling; or rather, she was reminded of her fear of The Dark Lord
Rating: Low
After having those conversations in Carmichael's journal with Pucey, Zabini, and Urquhart, Laura's mood was genuinely improved the next day. It had been nice to realise that she wasn't alone in her frustration (and regret), but it was also rather welcoming to be treated like part of the group. She didn't get that feeling very often, being not only younger than most of the young Death Eaters, but a Hufflepuff to boot. Most days, Laura felt like the ultimate outsider, pledging to a group she didn't really belong or fit in, and the days when she didn't feel like such a mockery, she reveled in it.
One thing that Laura was accustomed to doing when she was in a rather good or chipper mood - for whatever the reason was for the mood - was going out and buying some fresh cut flowers. It was something her father used to take her to do, whenever she was particularly happy, and it was a tradition she continued especially now that he was gone. It took about twenty minutes for her to get the arrangement just right, and she had a small smile on her face the entire time she was working on it. Laura had just begun carrying the flowers from the kitchen towards the sitting room (as they were to be perched upon the coffee table, of course) when the pain came.
It was unexpected, out of nowhere, and painful. The vase dropped from her hands as she grabbed at the mark, the glass shattering at her feet and the flowers sprawling everywhere. Laura had inhaled sharply, but she did not scream and she refused to cry, but the horror at the quiet voice of the Dark Lord was unmistakable. Fear and remorse filled her as the pain subsided, and it was then when the tears began welling up and spilling over.
It was illogical what she did next, but Laura often acted on impulse more so than things like logic. Her hand still gripping at the Dark Mark, Laura ran towards the kitchen sink - the nearest sink to her - and turned the water on hot. She scrubbed, scrubbed, and scrubbed, knowing that nothing would ever remove the Mark from her arm, but wishing desperately that this would work. Silently the tears fell as she scrubbed, and after a few long moments, Laura slammed the water off and cursed under her breath staring at the visible reminder on her arm of the only decision she'd ever regretted.
She wasn't Death Eater material, what was she doing wearing the Mark? Surely this wasn't the life her father would have wanted her to have, is it?