hazelburkes

[hazelburkes]

- Hazel observed the female witch with a cocked brow and stoic expression - she could recognise as Weasley the minute that she cast eyes upon them. She figured it that is was due to some bizarre, biological quirk in their demeanour. It was unmistakable, to Hazel at least. She eased her lips into a softer smile - the dimples of her cheeks having con-caved to strengthen her deceiving impression of general tenderness and amiability.

"So, do you oft..." Her sentence dissolved on her tongue as Dominique reversed her back to Hazel and seemingly began to waltz off. "Okay, then." Hazel murmured with genuine confusion clouding her thoughts. She was certainly a peculiar one indeed. The youngest Burke had clocked her in the Slytherin common room on occasion, that she was certain. With an outward scoff of disbelief, Hazel contemplated as to whether the sorting hat was becoming as languished in the mind as it appeared externally - surely those kooks in Ravenclaw house would appreciate such an oddity far greater than the noble house of Slytherin. She then nodded, as if cementing the census of this sole, internal debate. 

As she braved a few steps downwards, her curiosity and frankly, chilled body heat urging her to pry further. Hazel did not converse with those she seemed low lacking in intelligence of interest at the best of times - her friends she valued deeply and acquaintances came few and far between; and yet this girl had the, in her eyes, 'audacity' to strut away from her in such a brash fashion? The younger Slytherin inhaled sharply, her observation of the Pure-blood witch deepening as she came to the conclusion that she was entirely engrossed in her thoughts - so why not have a little bit of fun with this fact?

"Yes so, Professor Montrose figures that the castle's infestation of flobberworms should be under control by tomorrow at the latest. Oh! And, no need to worry about the flesh eating slugs they found in the 6th year Slytherin girls dorms - they are pretty sure that they vanished them all!" Her chipper tone sang such poisonous lies as she practically skipped behind Dominique in order to test her attention, her groomed brows furrowing furiously in a effort to understand what was consuming so much of the girl's attention - a letter? Well, she internally chuckled in perplexity, she was going in the wrong direction, was she not/

❝knotting ties - dominique x hazel ♙

Often times she would find herself making her way towards the owelry several times a week, despite her notable abhorrence for the horrid conditions. It certainly was one of the most odious places on campus, second only to possibly the Herbology classroom. Still, she always felt the need to deliver her responses almost immediately after a letter was received, resulting in her usual ascent to the gloomy chambers. Today, the wind being especially brisk, she considered buying an owl of her own and perhaps keeping that instead of her unfortunately useless cat, whom half the time was lost anyways, probably sneaking leftovers from the kitchen when the elves weren’t looking. But to get an owl would be submitting to her family’s view of her – coldly resourceful. She’d always thought of birds as particularly elegant, but owls weren’t her favorite. Though exhibiting the same poised intelligence and sophistication she so often admired, she often found them dull creatures, willing servants, and indeed extraordinarily stupid. For the amount of intellect they seem to encompass, it baffled Dominique as to why they would remain under the ruling of their masters when they could simply fly away.

No, owls were dull creatures and in all honesty she never intended to get one. It was merely a thought she chose to entertain due to a particular conversation she had with her own bird last night, though in all formalities, the bird wasn’t in her possession in the slightest. In fact, if anyone knew, she thought, they might consider her to be in possession of the bird. Walking swiftly along the pavement, she considered possibly using it to act as an owl. Her cat was meant to return home at Christmas, then to be shipped off to one of her greedy Weasley cousins, as a gift to a “new member of the family”, a decision her parents would soon regret at the sight of her new pet.

It was these thoughts, swarming with jealousy and vengeance, that were interrupted by the sudden presence of another, followed by a rather quick acquaintance as the two collided. Reminding herself to remain calm with the stranger, she smiled politely, glancing just below the other’s eyes before she picked up her letters. “Certainly.” she responded with a flash of a smile, barely listening to the other as a smudge of dirt on the inside of an envelope caught her eye. Standing up, she twirled around and slowly advanced away from the owelry, completely engrossed by the tiny speck of dirt that stained the parchment. She simply couldn’t send a letter in this state; it would need to be rewritten.

#aww that's so sweet thank you so much same to you! :) #she's so adorable bless haha and hazel is just hazel tbh haha! #hazel is kinda like #a hippogriff when their pride is threatened - best way I can put it ahah :) #dominique: owlery

[hazelburkes]

- Hazel was attempting, to rather pitiful avail, to repress her inner discomfort and retain a cool and composed front in attempts to obtain authority over the elder girl; one thing she could not repress however was a sluggish roll of her steely dark hues. Arabella was a child in her eyes - it disgusted her that a witch that was supposedly an elder, though she saw little evidence of this frankly, behaved in such an infantile and promiscuous manner. Her mother was correct - female witches had little class nowadays, she explained to Hazel at a tender, cherub age that, due to the torpid attitudes towards blood purity in this age, Pure-blooded wizards were folding to their primal urges and mating with the first Muggle witch who met their gaze behind hooded lids. It was disgusting, of course and Hazel was determined not to become one of them in reverse. "My sister," She scoffed with a slightly hollow croak to her tone, "and her romantic endeavours are none of my concern. If she so chooses to wed a lowly Muggle - I, or my family I am certain, will play no part in it." The mere mention of her sister had visibly caught her off her guard - a disgrace to the Burke name. Although her words should have been spiked with malice and disgust, her tone was peculiarly monotone; Hazel was, in practice, simply regurgitating her mother's spiteful traditions. It stung her internally in the most peculiar fashion to speak so lowly of her own blood. "Just because I don't prance around the courtyard, exclaiming for the entire Wizarding world to know the object of my affection, doesn't give me any lesser chance at winning their heart." She cringed lowly at her words, her active imaginative had reduced her entire vocabulary to become composed of that of fables and sonnets it seemed, "Patience is a virtue after all, Dursley." Her nose crinkled softly in disgust at that worn Muggle saying she had obviously heard on one too many occasions to cause her mind to absorb it - she felt rather tainted. 

"Why don't we talk about you, yes? And that insatiable obsession you seem to harbour with your blood status. Are you jealous perhaps? Mudblood." She challenged, wise to the fact that such emotion was not at all present in the elder witch's hues at present, but it was humorous to provoke her all the same. The word 'Mudblood' however, it felt heavy on her tongue - in fact it was an effort to haul it from her throat, a sticky, chalky texture oozed across her tastebuds, juxtaposed with a sour aftertaste. "You speak so lowly of me yet, are you sure that's not simply, ah, a projection of your own self-esteem? Or lack of such in fact. I don't blame you, truly. It must feel particularly horrible to know that however skilled you become in this school, however many 'O's you clock up on your N.E.W.T's next year - that you'll never truly have a place in this world." Her eyes narrowed in disdain, she was tired of Arabella talking her down, gaining the upper hand - it was her turn now, she always had the last word in such matters. People respected her, she realised this. So why didn't this pitiful excuse for a Witch? Her flesh itched insatiably as Arabella's willowy tips crawled up into her upper-thigh - her body immediately freezing as struck with a nasty bout of petrificus totalus. "Wh-What are you-" Regardless of her disgust towards this action and gender - Hazel was a teenage girl, untouched and itching for the affectionate touch of another. For one, she could allow this to contnue and gain the satisfaction of knowing that she had defied the elder's lowly expectations of her 'prude' nature or, retain her pride and avoid potential gossip to spread through the castle like a torrent of loose cornish pixies. Unfortunately, the latter was repressed momentarily by her intense loathing of a certain Arabella Dursley. "You are certainly," A pregnant pause echoed between them as she swallowed her self-disgust, hand raising to splay across the other's cheek - ensuring her manicured nails were tightly pressed into the flesh, lightly engraving hollow crescents all whilst a tight, mocking smile played at her lips - her mother would surely dis-own her if she were to observe such a sight. Regardless of Hazel's reluctance and ill-intentions, "the most vile girl I have ever had the displeasure of meeting. I have no reservations about sending you to the Hospital Wing, or into a permanent state of rest but, it's always fun to play around a little, isn't it? Of course, that's what all you Muggles think magic is at the end of the day - a little bit of fun. Regardless of the sting." Her hues gleamed with malice; expression and tone uncomfortably devoid of emotion for the most part despite her threats. Which honestly in her own mind, were far from empty at this moment in time. 

❝lacking serenity - hazel x arabella ♘

✺- Giving no more than a half-resigned sigh, Arabella’s eyes then rolled to the very back of her head, lips pursed in thought. “You, Hazel Burke, seem to absolutely get off on the idea that I’m a child, so, I’m going to take that as either a sign of necrophilia or perhaps pedophilia,” she pointed out, own leg advancing over the other as she balanced her chin upon a fist, curiously narrowing her eyes in response. “Or perhaps it’s to show that of a retained childhood? Is that why you wish to dump your self-doubts upon someone else and make them, in turn, doubt themselves and drown within their own insecurities? ‘Cause if that’s the case, then I’m terribly sorry to say that it surely, Hazel Burke, is a lost cause with me. Figured you of all people would deem yourself of high enough intelligence to understand that?” The quips, one after another, were rather coldly calculated. Well-endowed after several beats in which she mulled them over, sharpened them to their utmost ability to sharply jab at another’s possible insecurities. “Is that what you’re going to say when, two years from now, all your pretty little friends are getting married off and you’re the child left behind, huh? That what you’re gonna say when your mummy bugs you about why it is that she has yet to be given the great gift of grandchildren from you when it’s highly likely that your sister will long-since by then have found the legitimate love of her life? You claim to have high standards, sure — yet it seems that the boys’ around here standards are far above you, are they not, Hazel Burke? After all, for the life of me, I can promise you that I’ll eat my own left buttock if you can find yourself a suitor by the end of the week. End of the year, even, as that’s just how much I doubt your abilities. Though you needn’t prove yourself to a silly Mudblood like myself, huh?”

Instead of being deterred by the wand pressing against her wrist, she gave no more than a little laugh, on purpose furthering her hand up her thigh and further towards her inner than outer, rather. Higher and closer to where she knew she’d easily be capable of making her snap. “I’m a child, huh?” she breathed out, smirk clear on her features before, once deeming herself far too close for even her own comfort, she turned her head lazily as if to look elsewhere. “Says the fifth year who’s more-or-less slut-shaming me and being an absolute racist prick as well as taking my advances towards her as disgusting and potentially wishing to hex me due to them rather than simply telling me it’s flattering yet she’s not interested — especially when all I really ever wanted was to catch her attention and possibly befriend her.” Such wasn’t actually a lie, though. The latter part, at the very least. She hadn’t ever truly held much anger towards either of the Burke girls, absolutely endeared with the elder, and never having the pleasure of meeting the younger, whom she’d oh-so-obviously mistaken for being the absolute angel that her elder sibling was. “See, though, Hazel,” and her voice was sincere then, using a first name on which basis they weren’t anywhere even relatively close to getting to. “Children get what they want. And I don’t believe you’re about to let that happen from your wand on my wrist.” For further emphasis, her eyes traveled to meet hers, raising brow in challenge. “Go ahead if you’re going to send me to the hospital wing. Unforgivable Curses? Go on. You’ll only be harming yourself in the long-run,” she came to state coolly, face uncomfortably close to hers to the point where she was near-certain her freesia scent was more than likely overwhelming the other’s senses with pure distaste, fresh mint breath likely fanning against her in the most unwelcomed of manners as her hand kept its slow yet insistent pressure. Challenging.

#omg thank you same!! I just like this interaction amuses me so much I love it haha! #and it was wonderful dw! same though I have been so busy and am packing and just omg I hope its ok! #arabella: library

[hazelburkes]

replies + starters I owe

x arabella

x dominique

x gemma

#;; ooc to delete #;; getting to work on these noww

[hazelburkes]

run this town {a slytherin fanmix} | you could be great, you know, and slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that.

run this town - jay z // fancy - iggy azalea // clique - kanye west // everybody wants to rule the world - lorde // ridin’ dirty - chamillionaire // move bitch - ludacris // i will not bow - breaking benjamin // power - kanye west

L I S T E N

#;; I probably won't be able to write anything until the morning alas :c

[hazelburkes]

a never ending list of pretty people: maia mitchell

#;; muse #album

[hazelburkes]

❝knotting ties - dominique x hazel ♙

- The air was particularly tepid today - especially at such a high altitude. The young Burke's tresses whipped against her chaffed earlobes with a low whistle. On days such as today, she oddly did not resent the weather, in fact, Hazel found it quite comforting. "Please, be patient with me today-" She muttered softly and gained a lethargic squawk in response. Edgar was a reliable owl but rather wearied from years of service however, his beady pupils still twinkled with a certain wisdom and devotion. She permitted her lips to twitch into a bemused smile as she nestled a bulky letter between his willowed beak, earning an affectionate nip from her beloved pet. "Be good and be safe, okay?" A secondary squawk and fluff of his feathers before he began to soar from sight. 

As she observed her horned-owl glide into the distance, she pondered her mother's reaction, and more fatally, response to the nature of her youngest daughter's correspondence.  Disappointed no less and enfeebled by humiliation to boot, which wasn't a rarity. The owlery wasn't helping these worrisome thoughts, it was not exactly a desirable location itself - it radiated a particularly stale odour and her flesh itched even as she exited the mountainous tower, unable to shake off the ache of dread corroding in her gut, quickly enveloping herself in her thoughts. So much so that as she neared the rear of her descent, she almost missed a step and felt her shoulder collide with another's - a spark of fright igniting within her and losing her balance momentarily, thus emitting a nervous chuckle as she quickly smoothed down the front of her robes.

"Sorry." She spoke flatly with a quirk of her brows and quick flash of her teeth, a rather perfunctory response. "It's pretty odd how much a tower full of owls can make your thoughts so heavy." 

#;; I hope this isn't too cliche! #dominique: owlery

[hazelburkes]

- Hazel Burke was a proud girl, there was little denying this. She savoured the gratification of achievement and success – and most of all, gaining the upper-hand in debate. One thing she had not expected was for Arabella Dursley to propel such keen wit to render her colloquially winded. Her bottom lip quivered like a hare caught in a farmer’s rhubarb patch - it was rather perplexing however, the momentarily inquisitive nature of Arabella's words. This caused Hazel to arch a single groomed brow before scoffing gently once more, it was becoming quite an infuriating habit, her dumbstuck demeanour abruptly coming to a halt. "Are you trying to imply that I am jealous of you? And, you choose to insult my parents whilst their eyes and ears are elsewhere? You are so bizarrely infantile, it’s laughable. You see, that is where you’re sorely mistaken for unlike you, my parents and I have standards. Despite your, oh so sacred vow," She gestured with her steely gaze to the engraved gold wreathed around her finger, "I’m waiting for the right person. Period.  Why would I settle for mediocre when I can have so much better? I’m not implying that the boys around here are unworthy of my affection but, well, as for the majority-” Her nostrils twitched in soft exhale, dark hues boring straight into Arabella’s with uncomfortable certainty, “Standards are what keep us apart from the rest. Well, us as in, I and I don't need a silly ring on my finger to prove that.” She gestured loosely with a flick of her fingers to, her gaze now focused elsewhere as if even casting eyes on the girl for a mere second required far greater effort than it was worth. It was rather pitiful in a sense, Hazel’s pompous attitude stemmed from years of sheltered teachings and ignorance to the Muggle world around them.

She truly believed that being a Pure-blood witch automatically set her a bar higher than the rest – as if she radiated a idiosyncratic glow and that others’ could not begin to comprehend – although it was apparent that Arabella was witty and intelligent, Hazel simply did not accept this. On the surface at least, at the core of her conscience there was always a sensation nagging at her – acetic and foreign that she did not recognise. She often neglected this, putting it down to the ‘poor’ quality of the food they were served but at it's root - her innate morals were likely trying to push her in the right direction. Her body froze up as she felt the consistency of the ambiance switch, a cool breeze licking at her bare thighs before a sudden pressure caused her to exhale sharply; her cheeks immediately flushing with mortification at the audacity of this girl, she had never been touched in such a fashion before - that's not to say she had not desired it but certainly not from Arabella or any female for that matter. "Are you serious?" She seethed, her jaw clenched with indignation - her words felt like moist toffee in her mouth, she couldn't comprehend this fight or flight, as the Muggles would say, response to her advances. She wanted to bolt straight from the library right here, right now but she would appear a common fool. No, she have to play this correctly - as if it were a game of chess. "See," She smirked, her digits dipping beneath her own waistband to retrieve her wand, prodding the flesh of Arabella's knuckles in warning. Despite her provoking, she felt sick to her stomach - her palms were clammy and a rather unsavoury heat prickled the nape of her neck - his discomfort rather evident despite her best efforts."You really are a child"

❝lacking serenity - hazel x arabella ♘

✺- Blinking up in what she supposed to be an ostensibly virginal manner, she tilted her head to the side as faux bewilderment overtook her features. “How dare I insinuate what, Hazel Burke? My deepest wishes which I keep hidden beneath bed covers? Or perhaps is it less of it being me rather than it being a girl which is bothering you? Shall we add homophobia to the list of things which mummy and daddy taught you so well? Or perhaps is it that, oh, maybe you, with your haughty little upturned nose and adorable little smile which could make absolutely anyone melt into a puddle before you, haven’t actually gotten a single person whom you personally might show interest in to eat out of the palm of your hand in the manner which I’m indicating I wish I could do towards you?” she inquired, voice truly questioning, as if genuinely curious to know inside of her mind. Shameless indeed, as Arabella knew herself plenty well to be. To push to the very edges of her own comfort zone in order to divulge far past another’s. To put her own insecurities out at play, out at another’s taking merely in order to bring further ammunition to her side of a discussion. Even one where she surely couldn’t gain a thing out of if their surroundings were concerned in the slightest — she wasn’t about to make quite the giant spectacle of their surroundings if Hazel didn’t dare be the one to actually initiate such a display for all others to take joy in watching. For if one Slytherin went down, surely another would find themselves descending right with them.

Keeping a dreamy appearance to place upon her facial expression, she listened intently, as if truly taking her words into genuine consideration rather than breaking down each and every syllable with intent of diminishing them into dust to spit right back at her when an appropriate time made its arrival known. “Hazel, babe, I’d love for you to call me a whole lot of things,” she came to state, mirroring the tone of someone surely infatuated with another, something which her gaze clearly defied along with previous wordings. “It’s actually so nice to hear that the one who’s likely to get the absolute honour of becoming your husband shortly before getting shipped off his Minister for Magic throne and into Azkaban due to treason, bribery, or other high crimes and misdemeanors is going to be so well-aware of my sixteen-year-old’s belief in abstinence until lawfully wedded,” she cooed sweetly, raising her hand, which held a single gold ring with an engraving declaring the belief of “TRUE LOVE WAITS" and a cross at the very end, still fully giving her quite the syrupy lilting grin. "Ah, see, though, Hazel — I don’t see why your interest upon my love life is so keen," she noted, appearing truly downtrodden as she examined the fresh manicure upon her fingers, perfectly trimmed and of a bright, cherry red — highly opposing to the colour she was seeing at the very previous words of the girls. Some which cost all of her not to break down her own kittenish facade for. "Especially if you claim to hold no intrigue towards me or, likely, my species and gender to begin with. Or is perhaps your distaste towards me, since surely I’m but worthy of your hatred, derived from either the fact that I, for one, have the ability of getting others on their knees for me in a far quicker manner than you can find yourself a half-decent Muggle boy to snog? Or maybe is it because of an uncertain sort of feeling beneath you which is truly itching at your skin at the moment, huh?" she questioned, instinctively scooting her own chair closer and pressing her hand down above her pleated skirt upon her outer upper thigh, smiling a saccharine-sweet smile, as if in challenge for the other to say a thing. "Am I making you uncomfortable with my presence, Hazel Burke? Or are you truly above such things, huh?" With the smile fixed upon her face and her voice lowering to a pitch which she was certain would get Hazel up and running out from her seat within seconds, she slowly rubbed at the thigh where she’d placed her hand, dare clear in her gaze. 

#oh my goodness same it's like DAMN!! #arabella is really pushing her buttons like hot shit #d a m n #this is just so much fun to play out !! #when I first read hp when I was young I actually thought #hm I can see the pureblood supremicists point then remembered wait I would be muggle-born don't diss me yo #:) #arabella: library

[hazelburkes]

- As much as Hazel loathed to admit it, the muggle girl was beginning to get to her. Her tether was strained — Arabella's ridiculous façade was not only insulting but downright embarrassing, she pondered with repugnance. She found herself 'discreetly' averting her gaze to her left and right to ensure that no stray souls had found themselves a spectacle to witness. A thick dust of carmine misted across her cheekbones as the elder girl continued to drawl out this ridiculous monologue - "I-" Her throat emitted a croaked whimper, immediately quivering with a rather undesirable concoction of aggravation and embarrassment. "How... dare you insinuate such a thing." It was not the case that Hazel was repulsed by the idea of intimacy or desire for it. In a sense, she envied Arabella. According to word of mouth, the elder Snake was not short of male attention— some of this actually worthy of note. She was aware that jealousy was not desirable and neither was malice but, despite her mother's wise counselling concerning such matters - she often pondered what it would feel like to feel a person's gaze linger on her, the thought of one's heart muscle tightening as a flurry of flitterbys erupted in their stomach because of her —someone in particular in fact. 

It was a fanciful thought, one which only caused Hazel to project more enmity onto the elder girl. "You assume an awful lot. Would you like me to call you a filthy Mudblood?" She spat the word forcefully as if it required an obscene deal of effort to prize the syllables from her tongue; the word left a sour taste in her mouth like curdled milk, "You're below even that, even the filth in Azkaban have probably heard what they say about you." Her words were slow and steady, as if she were slack-jawed but her mortification was fizzling over into her temper, polluting her usual serenity with malice and spite. "Do you obtain some sort of deluded pleasure from the thought of— someone, anyone you can sink your teeth into by the sounds of it, valuing you, liking you for anything more than those doe-eyes you seem intent on fluttering every two seconds or your very own anatomy which I suspect is a little worn and tired by now. Confused also I suspect by the 'blink and you'll miss it' change of guy hanging from your arm every week. I can't quite work out if it's your, naturally, insatiable charm—" She seethed through a clenched jaw ( it was little wonder her teeth weren't abraded from the corrosion), "Or a natural talent for potions. Most likely the latter, I'm sure you would agree." Her lips pinched into a tight smile, rather pleased with herself. Well, superficially at least— her temper having mellowed into distasteful antagonism, for the moment. With a crisp sigh, she tilted her chin slightly in the air and strutted towards one of the empty chairs that Arabella had advertised, smoothing her pleated skirt as she lowered herself with comfort, folding her ankles and leaning forwards towards the sixth year— her tone hushed as if divulging an intimate secret. "And you're certain about that cute little mole are you? Well, Arabella Dursley i'm flattered, truly. I can see exactly why the boys flock around you like lacewing flies on shit." With another tug of her plump lips, she simpered softly. 

❝lacking serenity - hazel x arabella ♘

✺- It was a notoriously nasty gaze which Arabella was on the recipient end of. However, she needn’t let such discourage her. Instead of daring to put forth a single word which might give reference to the impression which led to her being at all offended, she gave a soft sigh, replacing it then with a disgustingly coquettish smile which she was certain, had Hazel laid eyes on her before this even once, she must’ve spotted her to be surely sporting at some point or another. Tilting her head to the side, she protruded her lips, unafraid to further the conversation to a high level of discomfort for the other. “You find something of mine endearing?” she panted, hand flying towards her own chest, eyes widening to a near-comical degree, smile turning awfully, awfully sweet — to a degree where, she was certain, if Hazel had the slightest inkling of common sense then she was certain the brunette should be more than capable of withdrawing the fact that she was aiming for no more than indulging her in complete hardship for as long as she pressed their conversation to last. Her eyelashes fluttered, and she let slip a coy giggle, eyes twinkling with malice that might otherwise be noted as kittenish attentiveness were her mind to follow what Arabella oh-so-deeply wished it did. Right towards the gutter. “Why, Hazel Burke,” for further implications, she carressed her own jaw, looking up from underneath her eyelashes. “To hear you’re interested in anything regarding me is just giving another false hope, is it not, love?” Yet the pet name wasn’t in the slightest overshadowed by minimizing her — instead holding many empty suggestions that Arabella was just overjoyed to have such an apparently self-involved girl find as the obvious connotations within them rather than firing right back.

Placing her hand right over where her heart was and delicatedly patting at the spot several times, Arabella’s eyes fell closed, letting out a scoff of pure disdain. “Why, Hazel Burke, your mere presence has far from been hurtful — do you not know that your mere eyes of liquid chocolaty gold are what I dream of at night and wish of waking up to everyday?” Surely, it had some playful hints to it — merely due to the ridiculous nature of such words. If Arabella Dursley could indeed pride herself at all for any one of her talents, it’d surely be her inane ability to strike up somebody’s absolute attraction. Yet with that came the tag-along ability of heaving upon someone a high level of discomfort if she stretched her dallying nature just enough to where it’d make others head towards near-disgust, which would surely only turn out in her favour when concerned with such ideals as Hazel’s apparent refusal to slip even the slightest bit out of the whole “classy bitch” facade the fifth year put on. And Arabella was only too happy to use her provocative words to further aid the showing of it. “Oh, no, darling, but I’d surely be far more interested upon some things of yours which surely haven’t ever gotten reducto used upon them, which would easily go hand in hand with no anatomy other than your own.” That was then said in no less than a pleasant manner, waving her hand to the empty chairs surrounding the table. “We could get a head-start on such now if you so wish, you know. No need for this whole thing of foreplay. Books, even those that you seem to believe to suit me of such a low level due to my Mudblood nature, aren’t going to teach me anything I need to know more than I need to know about that cute little mole I’m sure you’ve got in the back of your thigh.”

#aw thank you! you're too kind (: #same omg arabella's wit cracks me up so much I adore it #and haha dw! hazel getting put down a peg or two is ;probably; for the best to be honest #arabella: library

[hazelburkes]

♛ BIOGRAPHY:

NAME: Hazel Burke.

ALIAS[ES]: Haze’

DATE OF BIRTH: 11th Feburary, 2007.

GENDER | SPECIES: Female | Witch

PLACE OF BIRTH: St. Mungo’s, London, England.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES: English.

OCCUPATION: Hogwarts Student.

DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: No | No | No

LIKE[S]:  fantasy literature, punctuality, formal events, classical music.

DISLIKE[S]:  over-exuberance, invasion of personal space, red meat. 

FEAR[S]: betrayal, failure.

PERSONALITY TRAITS: loyal, resourceful, stubborn, passive, judgemental, wistful, imaginative, yearning, aspirational. 

DISORDERS: None.

{ P H Y S I C A L   I N F O R M A T I O N }

HAIR COLOR: Brunette.

EYE COLOR: Brown.

HEIGHT: 5’5”

TATTOOS: None.

PIERCINGS: Ears.

{ F A M I L Y   I N F O R M A T I O N }

SIBLING[S]: Gemma Burke (sister.)

PARENT[S]: Primus Burke & Levinia Montague.

CHILDREN: None.

PET[S]: A great-horned owl named Edgar, although he's in his twilight years he's incredibly reliable and prompt (most of the time, at least.)

{ R E L A T I O N S H I P   I N F O R M A T I O N }

SEXUAL PREFERENCE: Heterosexual.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single.

#;; headcanon #cd:

[hazelburkes]

- Hazel's body automatically recoiled in retaliation to Arabella's crudeness - she wasn't a prude by any means, or so often she convinced herself, but this was certainly surreal. 'Muggleborn.' She equally could not repress the slight curling of her upper lip, her pinched nose crinkled with distaste despite her best efforts to fool the girl opposite her otherwise. It was not entirely the young Burke's fault - her mother and father had whispered sweet tales into her ear of the Potters and blood purity - it's clarity and worth. And, of course Hazel had absorbed this like a sponge. (The blood purity anyhow, Hazel did not really have a negative opinion of the Potters despite the tuts and scowls that accompanied this name, courtesy of her mother.) Sometimes she truly wondered if that was all she was worth to them - a penny pot to donate their rules and expectations into. She was fairly certain that she knew the answer anyhow. "While I find your little biography endearing, I am actually more interested in the reason why you feel the need to justify yourself?" She ended with a soft smile, her honeyed tone matched her the sardonic glint in her eyes. It was no secret that Hazel prized herself on having unfairly high standards when it came to those she chose to associate herself with.

The young Slytherin arched her torso towards the bookshelf in a playfully mocking stance,"There's no need to be so hurtful - have I upset you?" Hazel's russet hues continued to gleam with a certain upper-handedness, even though she strongly suspected that Arabella was in no sense unsettled by her behaviour or presence. "-Personally and openly offended you? I don't think we've spoken before and already we're discussing bloody reductos and the male anatomy. Would you like to take a rain check, Arabella?" Hazel scoffed and turned so that her back was faced parallel to Arabella; scanning the shelves, her willowy digits curling around a particularly shabby book wedged between two boisterous hardbacks - it's leather binding feeling deflated against her skin. "A book of manners would probably do you some good, considering you seem to have this-" She gestured towards the goblet, "-pretty well managed," The book she had chosen for emphasis alone was realistically a bog-standard book of first year spells but Hazel couldn't resist allowing another brazen smile to smooth across the bow of her lips."For-" A small pause. Hazel was not a mean-spirited girl, truly. Although, in certain circumstances she sought small amusement in pressing emotional buttons  - she couldn't bring herself to let that particular word ooze from her tongue. The guilt was already pre-maturely rippling in her gut. So she grew quiet, sniffing as if to imply that if Arabella had heard in fact her, she was mistaken. 

❝lacking serenity - hazel x arabella ♘

✺- Granting her no more than a sharp quirk to her brow, she let out an elongated sigh, tilting back her head as she let her eyes briefly glaze across the scenery before her — allowed them to wander as if in search of nothing, though in all truth checking the surroundings for an all-too-familiar head of blonde hair belonging to their librarian. Once spotting no such thing anywhere in the immediate premises, she whirled her eyes to give her a once over, lips protruding as she took in the haughty stance of what she presumed to be a fifth-year before her, the facial features all too terribly familiar. “Oh, I’ll excuse myself any day of the week, thank you very much,” she spoke smoothly, quietly brushing her thumb atop the crease of the table. “Hazel Burke,” or so she hoped was indeed her name due to the all-too-familiar features resembling those of Gemma’s. “I think you might just, as Muggles do say, be biting off a whole lot more than you can chew here.” For emphasis, she then again tapped the glass, as if by some miracle having it change its form back to the original transparency of vinegar.

"I’d rather use bloody reducto on my non-existent penis than take advice from you, Hazel Burke," Arabella came to state in a plain and simple tone, lips lilting upwards in a smile that held absolutely nothing but slight mirth — none of the venom to be found in the other’s, but rather amusement at the sight of the one below her attempting to belittle her abilities in such predictable a manner. "Why, no, it’s not Dursley — it’s Arabella Dursley, indeed, a Slytherin Muggleborn sixth year related to the Potters, too, as I’m sure you know by the look of utter disgust in your face at the idea of even talking of someone so terribly below you. Not at all at your service, by the way, and instead currently working on her Charms coursework. Which, excuse my mistake, but I believed was what one came to the library to do in the first place? To put one’s studies to further exposition in order to perfect a certain spell and be able to do well? Since clearly some of us Mudbloods can’t seem to keep up with all this Wizarding schoolwork, wouldn’t you say, Hazel Burke?” Feigning a look of complete immaculateness, she followed her impromptu speech with a pointed tap to the goblet before her, pleasantly dropping her gaze towards it only to watch it turn of a rather richer consistency and of an unmistakable crimson-tint before raising them to meet Hazel’s own dark orbs.

#aww ty as are you!! #ps. arabella is a delight #arabella: library

[hazelburkes]

#album #;; muse

[hazelburkes]

- Truth be told, the Hazel had not anticipated such a peculiar greeting. Her features smoothed over the elder girl with an exasperated expression concerning her (apparently) public demeanour, it was as if she existed on her very own astral plane. There seemed to be a dream-like quality to her and the brunette simply could not place her finger on it  — she settled on the fact that the most accurate way to describe it was quite frankly, there was something 'off' about her. 'The fire's lit, but the cauldron's empty' if you will however, her presence was not at all a discomfort.

"You're that Weasley girl, aren't you?" Hazel had certainly heard whispered tales of this girl's.. idiosyncratic talent in the common room and courtyard more than once or twice on occasion, that was for sure (also considering that the name 'Weasley' was not exactly foreign tongue in this castle) but it did not intimidate her by any means; in fact, she found it all rather fascinating. Even Molly's, by all means, slightly unconventional behaviour at present. "Okay, well  — if you were murmuring spells like a lethargic slug say, 10 or 15 seconds ago-" Though, she strongly suspected it was the quaking, beetroot-skinned first year in the background, with their face burrowed so deeply into their standard book of spells - it was little wonder they hadn't physically absorbed every incantation into their being."- could you keep it down? Please. " Hazel's gaze momentarily averted beyond the bookshelf to glance back towards the thick-spined hardback propped open on the desk at her previous position.

"I'm not afraid," The brunette scoffed, glancing back towards the Claw with a tinkling laugh, "really." Her mind was on other matters by now, more specifically her 'reading material.' Under normal circumstances, it was presumed that if you were in the library for any given reason you were either: up to no good or studying. Hazel was technically daydreaming, not a rare occurrence considering her ideal life was practically a dream in itself.  The book was more a prop if anything - or prompt, depending on how you looked at it. 

❝acta non verba / deeds, not words | m+h ♘

Back in the library once more — this time on the hunt for some light reading in the only other language Molly spoke aside from English — the red-haired girl had been moving up and down the aisles, airy voice softly mumbling over some of her favourite lines of poetry. The library seemed to be rather calm, save for some first-year who seemed to be having trouble with their incantations. She could remember those days — though she had long ago taken to reciting in a less worrisome tone — days that seemed almost eons away. She’d been so young then, so much more afraid of life itself than she was currently; life was a beautiful thing, something to be enjoyed, even if the odds weren’t precisely in your favour.

Manuevering around the first-year still practicing, Molly tapped their shoulder, kind smile on her features and she brought a single finger to her own lips, signaling them to be quiter, “Soft tones make for better practice, you’re not always going to be growling over your spells.” As what was to be expected, the student looked almost as if they were mere moments from wetting their robes — apparently even the younger students had heard tale of Molly and her ‘deathly sight’. No matter, the girl continued on, eyes scanning the shelves in a timely manner only to be stopped in her tracks by yet another younger student. Brows arching in a curious manner, Molly couldn’t help but give a light laugh, fingers brushing against the old covers of the books on the shelf before turning to look at the girl.

"Yes?" She questioned, eyes searching the girl’s face before yet another giggle escaped her lips, "Oh dear, has a cat gone and stolen your tongue? I promise I’m not as horrible as everyone makes me out to be — there’s really no reason to be afraid. Go on, please — I’m incredibly curious to see just what it is you have to say." And she was — it was chance encounters like this that kept Molly on her toes; the fates were always tossing things at her, keeping her busy and ensuring that she always had something to do. As she waited for some form of reply, Molly took to studying the girl’s face, attempting to remember if she’d ever seen it before — even if just in passing, but there was no recollection to be found; it was someone new, which could truly only mean one thing — she was to have a new being to look after.

#aw thank you!! it's nice to meet you i'm becca nd everyone seems so lovely!! #ahah oh bless her dw she made me laugh! (in a v good way) #molly: library

[hazelburkes]

- Hazel was frankly taken aback by this girl's audacity - her attitude was swiftly snipping at the ambiance of the library with every click of her tongue. Hazel was a proud girl - if possible, she would polish and display every achievement and accomplishment she had earned in a cabinet for the world to see; however, her skin was as bulletproof as moist crepe paper, however hard she prevailed to imply otherwise.  Her life would be considered as relatively sheltered  and privileged by most - Hazel hadn't had a gross deal of experience of pandemonium, turmoil or anarchy. Even when internecine strife arose within her friendship clique in the past, it was either confronted and resolved or, well, in Hazel's mind was only one achievable outcome really. Her word muscle conquered most of her battles for her - the pen is mightier than the sword after all.  "Excuse, you." She scoffed in semi-amusement, this girl's, in her mind, arrogance had already severely grated on nerves; however for some reason, her memory couldn't place her with great clarity. Hazel was certain that she recognised her, none of this stemmed from a shared timetable or conversion over a feast, but her face was not entirely foreign to the brunette girl's knowledge. 

Her dark hues roamed her robes and as she examined the shamrock colouring etched upon these, her pupils swelled momentarily as she was taken aback by genuine disappoint. Hazel's loyalty to her house was indoctrinated within her consciousness - this would have been so much easier if this girl had been a simple Puff braving outside their hole or a Lion roaring with such haughtiness until they grew hoarse. However, that did not mean that Hazel was going to behave like a doormat when it came to confrontation - even now.  "Please, take my advice-" She gestured to the bewitched carmine goblet "-colovaria is not the best method of intimidation. Personally, I would try reducto or perhaps something like orchideous would be best suited to your talents." Her lips eased into a smile oozing with saccharine and venom, her digits smoothing through a few tassels of her hair as her own brows arched in sudden realisation, nose crinkling lightly. "It's Dursley, isn't it?" 

❝lacking serenity - hazel x arabella ♘

✺- The lesson had, at best, been disreputably tiring and elongated to the point of near-exhaustion, one which Arabella did much to amuse herself and knock it right out of the window that she hadn’t the pleasure of being anywhere near to begin with. Daft was what would surely describe a good amount of those surrounding her the previous hour — careless as to the actual work put before them. Yet as Charms was indeed her worst class, she couldn’t easily afford to settle herself into such a situation where she did any worse in the class than she was currently doing. which was already far too crummy a grade for someone of the Banker family. Nonetheless, it wasn’t like such an atrocious grade in Charms, which was likely the Muggle equivalent of, what? Some funny sixth form course she’d likely never even heard of? Either way, it wasn’t like her mum was likely to boast about such an oddly-named class to any one of her club friends, or perhaps even at some sort of outfit fitting for a wedding whose first names Arabella couldn’t be arsed to remember the names of when not attending.

Yet, with no wish of changing qualifications into those of Muggles in order to find herself a job outside of the Wizarding World, she was but helpless to keeping up her grades to a considerable average. Though by no means scoring into the top scores which Ravenclaws boasted about so often, she tended to keep her averages well-above failing — and yet Charms this yea? Kicking her arse right to the curb at an admittedly ridiculous degree. So, she should indeed be excused for muttering a practice charm at a goblet she’d summoned out of near-thin air, for she had yet to master turning vinegar into wine rather than some nasty-looking, horrible-tasting murky water she couldn’t get the taste of out of her mouth for the life of her. Wrinkling her nose in complete and utter disgusted distaste down at the goblet, her eyes then scanned upwards at the sudden heard interruption, glancing onto the Burke girl, a fellow Slytherin in the year below her if her memory served her correctly. In response, she arched one perfectly-groomed brow and tilted her head to the side, eyes stony in challenge as response. “Excuse what? For I believe you were about to say something of immense importance, weren’t you? Don’t see how my presence here, or anyone else’s for that matter, should serve from saying whatever it is you wish to say.” For emphasis, she flicked her wand against the goblet, suddenly, as if by some miracle, turning it a deep, dark red — nevertheless, her gaze didn’t stray from the brunette, as if in challenge.

#aww!! thank you so much that means a lot and you are obviously v talented with writing too!! #it's lovely to meet you wren i'm becca!! (: #arabella: library

[hazelburkes]

❝open ♘

-  The library had always been a place of comfort for Hazel - encompassing serenity and decorum, two aspects of life which she appreciated. And also, quite the rarity in an establishment which boasted hundreds of exuberant witches and wizards. Being enveloped by shelves of fables and knowledge was comforting - but that’s not to say it was the most exciting of activities, in fact she could sense her eyelids growing weary with each passing second.

The drawling noise of a nearby pupil revising monotone incantations was enough to produce greater effects than bewitched sleep; it was as if the words were being hoisted from the roots of their throat with a rusty shovel. She blinked heavily and drawled a lethargic yawn ending in a low squeak. She quickly averted her gaze to sweep her surroundings, visible embarrassment bubbling on her cheeks. Hazel mentally scolded herself - she recalled the last occasion she had openly yawned in such a fashion, the arch of her mother’s brow and rigid stiffening of her upper lip had been warning enough to think better of her public mannerisms. 

Her thoughts were disrupted once more by the (currently) genderless rumbling having plagued her previously content demeanour for the past half hour. That was it - her brow creased agitatedly as she forced her palms against the rim of her desk and rose to her feet, shoulders rolling back to give the false impression of a tall stature - Hazel was by no means intimidating in the sense that a thick-muscled brute was, but she certainly tried. 

“Excuse-" She began, her tongue snapping back into it’s dormant position as she rounded a corner bookshelf - now rather aware that she and the disruptor were not the only souls in the vicinity. 

#gloriastarter #;; been typing this for ages sorry ah