Post by genevieve on Jun 25, 2009 11:50:15 GMT 1
( STREETLIGHTS SHINE LIKE THEY WERE STARS )
[/font][/size][/justify]She spoke with a British accent. She looked like a British. Her parents were British. But one would be surprised to know that Genevieve had not spent her childhood in Britain. In fact, on her birth certificate, her place of birth was certainly not located in Chelsea, England – where her family’s manor was. Instead, the words New York, America, were printed clearly in that box. That’s right; she was born and bred an American, although her parents were fully British. She was British by blood – a mix of French and Scottish there, of course – but she was American in nationality. Why? One would have to thank her father for it. He had received a brilliant business proposition two years before Adele was pregnant – he had not planned for a child, really – that required them to move to America in order to properly oversee the entire procedure. Delighted for her husband, Adele Isabella Young, the clueless unsuspecting mother was more than happy to agree and pack her things; ready to leave the minute Chase required her to do so. Within a month of the proposition reaching Chase’ ears, Chase Isaac Young and Adele Isabella moved over to New York City, leaving the family manor unattended in Britain, save a routine cleaning once a month by some hired workers. They settled into an apartment; small and quaint, and fit for the two of them.
They certainly hadn’t expected to have children.
Yet, two years later, Adele became pregnant with her. Immediately, Chase ordered for renovations to take place in the apartment in New York. Once it was done, the apartment was small and quaint still. But this time, fit for the two of them and the expected newcomer. It was in this house that a young brunette grew up, from her days from crawling as a baby, to walking as a toddler, and to speaking like a teenager. America was her home for fifteen long years, before the move back to England was initiated by her parent’s divorce. For three years, the apartment was closed, although still kept under Chase’s name so that the Youngs would have someplace to stay should the need to return to New York ever arise. At the moment, however, the same young girl that once walked through the halls in the child version of her was back once again. This time taller, more mature and a fresh graduate of Hogwarts, Genevieve Anne Brookes was back at the place she once called home. She remembered this place vividly, and the memories it held. Although a hassle, Genevieve had insisted that she didn’t want to move back to England despite her acceptance letter into Hogwarts. Her father was more than able to pay for her trip between the countries, and it was for the first four years that she attended Hogwarts that Genevieve travelled between the two countries. She didn’t mind it the least, for she wouldn’t trade the one place she had grown up in for a house that she didn’t know, despite the difference in size and design.
However, she mused to herself, she had been more than willing to move back to England in her fifth year. How ironic, she thought, although circumstances then had been much different from the circumstances now. Sighing as she dropped her bag to the floor of her old room, she gave a dry laugh at how it hadn’t changed a bit. The house was clean, naturally, for the same arrangements had been made for it like it had for the manor. Regularly cleaned once a month, it kept the place neat and tidy should the need to use it arise. And while this wasn’t exactly a time of need, Genevieve had borrowed her old home for two weeks. There was a Potions conference going on in town, and she had requested permission from her Mistress to attend. The idea of meeting many Potions Masters and Mistresses made her oddly excited, for if there was one thing that she truly enjoyed, it was the art and study of Potions. The French lady had been more than glad to oblige, and Genevieve had immediately packed her stuff, leaving the next day since the conference was to start in three. Lodging was thus solved by her occupation of the apartment. Running a hand over the mattress of her old bed, she picked her bag up from the floor, dropping it instead on the springy mattress before duly performing the charms to unlock it. Withdrawing her wand and muttering a few charms to remove the wards around her bag, she emptied her luggage, packing the clothes away nicely into cupboards that didn’t look worse for the wear. Once she was done, she fished out an outfit for herself to change – cross-country travelling made her feel dirty. Portkey or not, she just didn’t get used to the idea of not having to change after travelling such a long distance.
Pulling on a long sleeved shirt, it was a rather baggy shirt, and was certain not to attract unwanted attention if necessary. A pair of jeans to go with that, and as she rolled the sleeves up, she prepared herself to leave the house. Despite being in startling good condition, there was absolutely no food in the house – no point keeping it stocked when no one would eat it. Genevieve was forced to resolve it herself, and since she really couldn’t cook very well – one could only eat bacon and eggs for a certain amount of times – she had to settle dinner outside. Luckily, the neighbourhood hadn’t changed much in the three years that she was gone, and the one café that she used to frequent was still there. Merlin bless, she thought with a small smile, as she left the house, the wards activating after she closed the door and locked it the Muggle way. The shops that sold food were all neatly lined up in a row – a person could be spoiled for choice, if it was their first time here. Fortunately, it wasn’t Genevieve’s, and without a second’s hesitation she made her way into one of the smaller cafés. Hidden from most people’s view due to its entrance being subtly located in an alleyway, the café itself was miserably small, hosting at least only fifteen people at max. But that was why she liked the place. Small, quaint, it prevented Genevieve from having to bother with an excessive amount of noise. Her sensitive ears couldn’t deal with it, to be truthful. Settling herself into a seat by the window, she procured a menu, flipping it through it lazily while she stared out of the shop. Loneliness was one of those emotions that made a person more acutely aware of it as compared to other emotions.
If there was one thing she was good at though, it was distracting herself, which she promptly did as her mind filled itself with thoughts about being back in her hometown. The people on the other side of the window were but a blur to her now. If they so happened to look in her direction however, the obvious glaze over her eyes were more than a hint that she was certainly in a daze at the moment.
TAG! Open, definitely. NOTES! Sorry it’s so long, ohmigod. I had a flash of muse, really. MUSE! Super Junior’s Monster! BANNER CREDIT! BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED @ CAUTION 2.0!