Laura Keaton
August 28, 2005 5:56 PM
A Half-blood Stuck in a Pureblood World by Laura Keaton
OOC: This explains where Laura has been while I was off playing in the dirt overseas.Laura sat on her bed, staring at no spot in particular on the Crotalus dorm wall. She had sat in that same position before; usually contemplating why on earth she had been placed in Crotalus house. Nothing about her seemed very Crotalus like. She was a half-blood to begin with, who loved her father and her Muggle relatives and very nearly despised her pureblood relatives. She felt very out of place in a house full of Purebloods, many of whom seemed fanatical in the least.
But now she had her answer. That potion she had drunk at the very first feast had turned her crimson for the simple fact she had Sanice blood in her veins. Despite how much Laura had tried to ignore that half of her family, she now had to admit to herself that no matter how much her mother loved her father and his family, her mother was still a Sanice, born and raised a pureblood until falling in love had changed her attitude. And even now, that Sanice side still reared its ugly head every once in a while. And that was the reason half Laura's belongings were strewn around her.
She had been called away by her mother to go visit Grandfather Sanice, who was likely to be dead by Christmas. Laura had at first believed her mother just wanted her to see her grandfather one last time, before the disease had completely taken his mind. Laura had gone willingly; she had always liked her grandfather best out of all the Sanices. He had always treated her exactly the same as his pureblood grandchildren; something his wife had never done. He always told Laura that even if her father was a Muggle, she still had the pureblood spunk. She would cringe internally every time he said it, but always remembered to smile back sweetly externally.
However, when Laura arrived at her grandfather’s bedside, she realized why her mother had so quickly pulled her out of school and shipped her back to Massachusetts. Every single Sanice cousin was at the Sanice Manor, cooing over their ailing grandfather. It was an attempt by the parents to make sure their children saw their grandfather while he was still in the right mind to change his will, if he so desired. And no doubt, any grandchild who didn’t show up would be scandalized before the ailing man. So Laura had spent three agonizing weeks putting up with the taunts from her pureblood cousins and her mother’s encouragement to be sweet to Grandfather (and hexing her pureblood cousins did not count as being sweet to Grandfather.)
Finally, fed up with the situation, Laura had outright asked her grandfather if he minded if she went back to school. The cousins had hissed that she was being selfish and conceited, and only thinking of herself for asking such a thing; her place should be with her sick grandfather. But her grandfather had only laughed and smiled, two rare actions on his part, told her she had pureblood spunk, and had given her his complete blessings, while adding loudly that “all my grandchildren should be in school getting some knowledge into their thick heads instead of gawking at an old man.” Laura wasn’t the only one to be shipped back to school the next day.
She had left the unpacking to procrastination upon returning, and instead had gone about finding out what had been going on at Sonora since she had been gone. Though what she had found had not improved her mood much. From what she could gather, Gwen and Asher were no longer on speaking terms, leaving her feeling awkward about both of them. Their plan to attack the Hens had been retired as well, leaving Laura in an even worse mood. If she couldn’t hex her own pureblood cousins, she had been hoping to take it out on the Hens instead. She had probably also missed Quidditch tryouts, she thought miserably, never mind the immense amount of work she had to catch up on.
Pulling out her school books and continuing to ignore the unpacked mess around her, Laura flipped open to one of the many chapters she had missed. Hunching down over the book, still miserable, Laura hoped that whoever entered the dormitory next would be friend rather than foe, though being in Crotalus, the odds were against her.
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Laura Keaton
A Half-blood Stuck in a Pureblood World
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Laura Keaton
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Gwenhwyfar Carey
August 28, 2005 7:54 PM
Welcome back, I think... by Gwenhwyfar Carey
I can't do this, was Gwen's immediate thought as she started to break the seal of the North Carolina Careys that secured Andrew's reply to her letter. I can't. She put it back down beside the other letter that had just been delivered to her, one bearing the seals of both the Virginia Careys and the entire Carey family. She tried to tell herself that the use of the double seal and the absence of the seal of the Savannah Careys was a good sign, but it did little to ease something very like terror that was making her hands shake and her breath come short. Once she read either one of those letters, she would know if Alasdair had actually done it. She would know if she was still Miss Gwenhwyfar Carey of the Savannah Careys or if she did not and never had existed. She had more than ample reasons enough to be afraid of knowing the truth. It was perhaps the tenth time she had attempted to open one or the other and not been able to go through with it.You bloody coward, a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Alasdair's upbraided her. It has to be done. If you're not a Carey anymore, then you have to make provisions - contact your Uncle Frank, find out what the family intends, secure whatever you can. You've been expecting this letter, and you've been expecting the worst. You should have known that you'd be disowned from the day you decided to befriend a muggleborn and a half-blood instead of others of your own kind. Just do it! She snatched up the letter from Thomas. It was the formal missive from the family; it would have the most useful information. She snapped through the double seals and had to read it twice before a word of it sank in.
To Gwenhwyfar Carey, of the Georgia Branch of the Carey Family:
As you know, your father and branch-head, Alasdair Carey, brought a complaint against you to the attention of the Family Council of the Carey Family. It was his desire that you should be disinherited and permanently disowned from the aforementioned Carey family. After reviewing Alasdair's case, the Family Council has decided that it is not in the best interests of the Carey family to exclude you from our number at this time. This matter will be revisited in three years time, at which point you will be disowned or the complaint dismissed with the Council's apologies. In the meantime, you will spend any school holidays you leave Sonora Academy during with Miss Rosamund Carey, your father's half-sister, at her estate. More details of this arrangement will come at the Council's conveinience.
There was a scribble that looked like 'T. Carey' and then his titles:
Head of the Virginia Careys and of the Carey family united.
Gwen closed her eyes as the world swayed drunkenly. Not disowned. Not disowned. Still a Carey, a Savannah Carey. Not disowned. There had been occasional moments since the alumni banquet, usually when she saw her former friends, that she wondered if that was worth the price. Now she knew. It was. Remaining a Carey was something worth fighting for, worth sacrificing for, worth dying for if it came right down to it. Her hands were still shaking as she reached for Andrew's letter, but with a sort of wild happiness brought on by the rush of adrenaline that had gone straight to her head at the realization that she was still who she had always been and would remain so for at least three more years. Three years of borrowed time, but hopefully enough. Right now, in her near-euphoria, it seemed like enough. She broke the seal and read what Andrew had to say.
The first time I met you, I felt sure your mother had had an affair that produced you. Surely no biological child of Alasdair's could be as sweet-natured as you seemed then. I see now that I was pixie-led. You drive a hard bargain, Gwenhwyfar Carey. You have a deal; I've already held up my end.
Thomas will have sent along the formal version of events, but just between us, I was shocked at how things turned out. I expected to be the only person you owed your neck to. I wasn't. Thomas himself voted in your favor, which meant that George did, too. What makes no sense is the fact that the others didn't go with Thomas. Alasdair was only to be expected, but the Council
Andrew
"Oh, Andy, you're a good man!" she whispered, kissing the letter in a sudden burst of affection for her cousin. She was safe. "I'm not sure if I can exactly say the same for you, sir," she began apologetically to Thomas's missive, then bestowed the same endearment on it that she had on Andrew's. "Thank you just the same." She had to frame replies. She might ought write her Aunt Rosamund as well. It seemed somehow odd that she had never met either of her father's sisters, to the best of her memory. It was too late to ever meet Mary, as she was dead, but maybe she and Rosamund could get along. She looked around for her bag and realized that she had left it in the dormitory.
She hesitated, thinking. The dorm had been her enemy ever since the Banquet, somewhere between the hostility between her and the preps, the hostility between her and Asher, and the oddness that had reigned between her and Catherine ever since Alasdair had appointed Raines as Gwen's keeper. Still, the chances of anyone being there now were limited. She could go up, compose herself, write her letters, and be back downstairs by curfew, when everyone would come in, and could slip into the dorm after everyone was asleep as she had been doing over the past few days. It was a good plan. Feeling oddly invincible, she stood and made her way up the stairs and down the girl's corridor, walking into her own dorm with a look on her face that was almost frighteningly happy. Nothing could hurt her today, or so she thought.
She checked her step and her smile almost immediately after crossing the threshold. The dorm wasn't empty, as she had hoped. Laura was sitting on her bed hunched over a book. "Oh," she said, surprised. "Hi. I didn't know - " she bit her tongue to keep herself from completing the sentence. She knew that Laura had been called home before the break between herself and the others, but she hadn't realized that the other girl was back. How long had she been here? She had been so wrapped up in her own worries lately that she barely noticed anything else. She was fairly sure that Laura would have worked out that something was up, provided Asher hadn't just told her all the gory details. It would be typical enough. She wavered, trying to work out what she should do.
Laura had been the first person she met at Sonora. Laura had nothing to do with what had happened at that Banquet. She had no proof that Laura was going to turn on her because of the events of that day. On the other hand, Laura was a half-blood. If the family was keeping some kind of surveillance on her - and she felt sure that they were - then she had to be perfect for the next three years. The rest of her life as well, but especially for the next three years. Laura was also Asher's friend, too. Even Gwen had to admit that if she was Laura and one of her friends told her that Gwenhwyfar Carey had gone back to her pureblood-elitist roots, she would have believed it.
"Welcome back," she said, a little stiffly. She still hadn't come to any definite descision about how she should handle things with Laura from here on out, but she could be civil in any case. One of the Careyisms she had been taught rose to mind: A Carey never backs down. Posture perfect, she walked across the seemingly endless space between the door and her bed and sat down, reaching into her bag for parchment and a book to bear down on. Her quill and ink were already on her nightstand. As she crossed her knees and reached for her inkbottle, she added, "You were missed." She said it very fast and in a different voice from her stilted welcome. Not that she expected it to matter. Lifting her quill over the page, she started to write the salutation to Andy and realized that she couldn't write as she tried. She lowered the quill and watched the ink blot produced gradually grow larger. The last thing she wanted right now was a fight. \n\n
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Gwenhwyfar Carey
Welcome back, I think...
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Gwenhwyfar Carey
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