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A temporary mask of toleration; Meissa Malfoy
Topic Started: Nov 11 2010, 05:39 PM (312 Views)
Aimee O'Hara
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Fifth Year

Aimee was not happy about this. At all. Saturdays were meant to be spent composing music or sneaking some time with Leonis. Not doing homework with an unpleasant witch whom Aimee shared a mutual dislike with. But that was the assignment. A partner assignment for class. Aimee didn't mind partner projects, but she wasn't thrilled about her partner. Meissa Malfoy. The two girls were acquainted through quidditch and were certainly not the best of friends, making the forced partnership seem even more miserable than usual. Aimee had written to Leonis earlier that day, warning him that she would have to wait until later to meet him - if at all. And that was probably the worst part about all of this. Time with him was harder to come by during the week; they both had quidditch practice and Aimee had her Prefect rounds in the evenings. Weekends were the easiest and most consistent times for them to meet. And now they couldn't. Because Aimee had to deal with a spoiled little witch.

She sighed heavily before entering the study hall, eyes flicking around the area until they landed on a familiar head of blonde hair. Aimee tried to rein in her bitterness - after all, Meissa probably wanted to be there as much as she did. She slid across the table from her, eyes a bit colder than necessary as a small smile touched her lips. "Malfoy," she said, her voice laced with a sickly sweet honey. Sighing quietly, Aimee drew her own books from her bag and leaned across the table. "Look," she said, her tone matter-of-fact, all unnecessary sugar gone, "you don't want to work with me and I don't want to work with you. Let's do ourselves a favor and make this as quick and painless as possible." Her tone wasn't necessarily rude, but her eyes were hard, almost daring the girl to say something against it. Aimee wasn't going to enjoy this, but that didn't mean she had to be a horrid person to the girl either. It wasn't really in her nature and she tried a small smile again - this time more genuine. "Ready to get started?" Their assignment wasn't a difficult one - simply an essay discussing the qualities of an Animagus and it's relationship with the subject of Transfiguration. Well, at least it was a subject she enjoyed.
Edited by Aimee O'Hara, Nov 11 2010, 05:41 PM.
. . . Prefect | Intelligent | Sarcastic | Her Song | Recovering | Sixeen | Taken . . .
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Meissa Malfoy
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Fourth Year

Meissa sat idly in her chair, the only sign of life being the quill that tapped back and forth against the tabletop. If one were to walk in now they'd notice a statue of blonde, calm and collected. Nobody knew that only moments ago she'd arrived in a bit of a huff. Today had not gone her way thus far and with the coming company the girl knew it was only downhill from here. Early this morning, for the purpose of her own sanity, she'd readied herself for a visit with a certain Transfiguration Professor. The very same teacher who earlier this week sentenced the young Malfoy to death. Admittedly death was a little dramatic but this whole ordeal was a joke. A one on one project with none other than Aimee O'Hara. Queen of the Lions. Future Savoir of the World. Nearly half an hour Meissa tried to sort her way out of this mess stating irreconcilable differences. The only response she'd received? A lecture on putting aside personal vendettas to work as a team. Without a word of argument she'd accepted the logic all the while her insides burned with disdain for whatever force of fate laid this card down.

Meissa knew the truth. It was personal differences that made this situation so displeasing, really. There were just plenty of other ways the girl would prefer to spend her Saturday than with Aimee. Dancing in a field of poison ivy, bathing with jellyfish, or perhaps contracting dragon pox...just to name a few. She really wasn't picky in this case. "Malfoy," "Great you're here," she mumbled in immediate sarcasm knowing. Slowly the Raven's grey eyes left the bouncing quill and floated to meet the voice's owner. "O'Hara," she said in a greeting completely devoid of interest. Meissa couldn't muster to lace her tone in falsities, not after losing her battle with the Professor. "Look. You don't want to work with me and I don't want to work with you. Let's do ourselves a favor and make this as quick and painless as possible." Quizzically a white eyebrow rose in a nearly perfect arch. What happened to the confetti throwing, impossibly sweet Aimee? No matter, she preferred the straight forward approach anyways. Casually Meissa lost eye contact as she flipped through her textbook. It was times like these where most people would deny a statement like Aimee's. Fill the air with sunshiny compliments. Meissa, well she was different. She let the silence linger for a bit before responding. "You're right," she said eventually raising her gaze. "I don't want to work with you. So I agree with you. But I wouldn't recommend getting used to that." Eyes dropping once more the young Malfoy began to scan the pages for applicable information. "Ready to get started?" "Way ahead of you. Shall we divide and conquer or work...together?" The word tasted sour as it left her lips. There certainly were first times for everything.
.. Profile.. pr. (MAY-suh)..Fifteen..Raven..Fifth Year Prefect..Taken..
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Aimee O'Hara
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Fifth Year

Aimee wanted to be with Leonis. Was that so much to ask? For some time with her boyfriend? Her mind kept trailing to their past encounters: his lips against hers as he pressed her against the closest wall, her soft moans as he brushed his mouth across the skin of her neck. That was what she wanted to be doing right now. But no. There was no merciful reprieve. Seeing the light head of hair in the library only confirmed that she wasn't going to escape this miserable Saturday task. Aimee didn't really have anything personal against Meissa - the two girls were just very different; or at least, all signs had indicated such. She addressed her, the honey in her voice more forced than usual. The Raven mumbled something but Aimee didn't bother trying to catch the words before sliding across from the girl. "O'Hara." Her tone was void of any real emotion and Aimee felt her smile slip from her face. Why bother trying to put up a pretense that this was going to be enjoyable at all? Both girls obviously weren't thrilled with the arrangement. Well, what do you know? Apparently they did have something in common.

Her voice remained calm, composed but there was no sugar to waste on the Raven in front of her. Meissa's pale eyebrow lifted and Aimee simply stared at her. The silence echoed around them before the girl glanced away, flipping through her book. Aimee regarded her carefully, half-expecting some cruel sort of response. "You're right." Meissa looked up slowly, earning a narrowed gaze from Aimee. "I don't want to work with you." Aimee felt a sardonic smirk tug at her lips gently but she remained quiet. "So I agree with you. But I wouldn't recommend getting used to that." God, please just let it be over already. At least they could get started now that the potential awkward conflict was over. "Way ahead of you," Meissa said, her eyes still on her book. "Shall we divide and conquer or work...together?" Aimee sighed softly before flipping her own book open. "I suppose you'd prefer to divide and conquer?" she said, her voice sliding easily into sweet sarcasm. It was too natural - she knew it used to be one of the things Leonis hated the most about her. Leonis. She wanted to be out of here as soon as possible. "It would go by faster if we worked together," she said, her tone soft but matter-of-fact. Her eyes scanned the page in front of her after a moment, deciding the churning in her stomach at the idea of working with Meissa was worth it if she at least got five minutes with Leonis later. "I suppose there are the basics of course - when a witch or wizard has an animagus, the animal often exhibits similar traits." It was all simple. They just needed to get it done.
Edited by Aimee O'Hara, Nov 13 2010, 12:24 PM.
. . . Prefect | Intelligent | Sarcastic | Her Song | Recovering | Sixeen | Taken . . .
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Meissa Malfoy
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Fourth Year

Meissa didn't know exactly what put her and Aimee at odds. Aside from being born into the arms of muggles the brown haired girl really hadn't done much else wrong. Oh, except for one thing. She couldn't stand when people filled the world with ramblings drenched in sweetness. Especially when feigned. Ever since she was little tyke, Meissa had a strong distaste for all things sugary. Her stomach combated sweets wickedly. The first time she tried candy her stomach ached for three days straight. Aimee's syrupy kindness amplified those aches and pains tenfold upon the greeting. God this would have been so much easier with somebody she didn’t know well one way or the other. Working with friends or working with foes, Meissa didn't particularly care for either. Maybe that’s another reason the matchup irked her so. Since she knew how to use it, compartmentalizing had gotten Meissa through countless days. Homework, friends, foes, drama, and quidditch- each portion of her life held its own place amidst all the fiery action of her brain. Combining two made it harder to concentrate, harder to remain the frigid girl externally unaffected by most everything. But she could do this. Grades were important making the success of this meeting all the more necessary.

The realization of importance didn't mean Meissa was going to dawn a countenance filled with kitties and sunshine. Say one like Aimee tended to display. Quite the contrary she came out with words of honesty. Neither of them wanted to be there. Topic cleared. "I suppose you'd prefer to divide and conquer?" And I suppose you sleep on a rainbow with white puffy clouds, Meissa added silently as she raised her gaze. "I'd prefer to do whatever gets us out of here soonest," she said, her voice combating the sweetness with one of passive aggressive bitterness. It'd easily go undetected if one didn't know to look for it. "It would go by faster if we worked together," Slightly her head inclined in agreement. She was unwilling to admit out loud that for the second time today she agreed with the Lion. "Then that's what we will do," she replied in a tone matching Aimee's. Business. That was what this was. That's how she would get through it. Her grey eyes continued through the pages of her book. Each relevant line she read made her one step closer to the door, that damned finish line. "I suppose there are the basics of course - when a witch or wizard has an animagus, the animal often exhibits similar traits." Meissa swallowed the immediate sarcastic remark trickling up her throat. Catty cynicisms were not going to get them anywhere except further from the finish line. She temporarily looked up from her book. "It's like they are molded from the human form though the personality isn’t nearly as strong. Like they become a fourth of an animal and retain the other thirds." The words flowed so freely she failed to find the off switch. "Say for you. Most probably take you for a puppy or fluffy tailed rabbit of sorts." Slowly the head of white shook and her eyes narrowed. "I think you're more of a chameleon. Blending yourself into situations. Or maybe a bee. Buzzing every which way making honey out of everything you touch. Even when you want to do otherwise."
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Aimee O'Hara
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Fifth Year

Sarcasm was second nature to Aimee. It laced her words more often than it probably should, but it was what kept her composure intact. Any sweetness offered in her voice was usually sardonic and intended to be seen as such. Sure, there were times when she spoke with a genuine softness, but those times were reserved for people that had earned it or needed it. Like the young student that had been lost in the corridor when she'd been on Prefect Duty with Avery or other students who looked like they needed a kind voice of reason. And then of course, the people who she was fond of. Damon, Amelia, Leonis - though she had to admit that many of her conversations with Leonis were filled with light sarcasm too. But that was how they prefered it. But this girl? Meissa? She had neither earned nor proven that she needed any softness. Aimee didn't necessarily dislike the girl - she had no reason to. And she knew that despite her typically catty nature, that she was probably just fine beneath it all. Her unfaltering belief that everyone was inherently good prevented her from thinking anything else. But now wasn't the time to be dwelling on what kind of person Meissa was - they had an assignment they needed to get done, and even if Aimee didn't get a chance to see Leonis later, she certainly didn't want to spend any extra time with this girl.

They needed to work together - as much as they both loathed the idea. "Then that's what we will do." Aimee drew a deep breath, mild irritation churning in her stomach but she wasn't entirely sure why. She just wanted to leave. They began, reading through the books before Aimee began easily. The quicker they finished, the quicker they got to leave. Meissa glanced up. "It's like they are molded from the human form though the personality isn’t nearly as strong. Like they become a fourth of an animal and retain the other thirds." Aimee's eyebrow quirked at her intelligent statement. "Never pegged you for the studious type," she admitted quietly. It wasn't that she thought Meissa was daft by any means, but she never expected an answer like that. But Meissa wasn't finished. "Say for you. Most probably take you for a puppy or fluffy tailed rabbit of sorts." Aimee's face remained passive but the urge to scowl was overwhelming. "Oh?" she said, her tone curious but held and edge to it. Meissa shook her head and Aimee's eyes narrowed. "I think you're more of a chameleon. Blending yourself into situations." Aimee pondered that. An interesting assessment - one that wasn't entirely false. She blended in where she could because ever since she learned she was a witch, she had belonged no where. Blending in, or pretending to at least, made it easier to deal with. "Or maybe a bee. Buzzing every which way making honey out of everything you touch. Even when you want to do otherwise." Aimee stared at her, swallowing thickly - she wasn't sure if the girl was simply making a judgment call or trying to be malicious, but the Lion decided it didn't really matter. "Yes, well," she began, her gaze returning to her book, "you never have to explain honey to anyone." Unlike fears or insecurities. But she didn't say that and her tone gave nothing away. Aimee didn't offer an animal for Meissa simply because she decided it was time to reevaluate the other girl. "They essay only has to be 11 inches," she said, directing them away from the actual material for a moment. "It shouldn't take more than an hour to finish." Her fingers drummed lightly against the table out of habit as she returned her attention to her book. "I guess one of the more obvious connections to an animagus and transifguration is that it's the act of changing an object into something new. Almost like self-transfiguration." It was meant as a light joke, but it was dry. Well, she was trying anyway.
. . . Prefect | Intelligent | Sarcastic | Her Song | Recovering | Sixeen | Taken . . .
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Meissa Malfoy
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Fourth Year

Perhaps in another world Meissa could have been friends with this O'Hara. She saw the kindness in her eyes when Aimee spoke to her friends in classes. She caught the sarcastic remarks when the girl landed among the wrong company in passing periods. Even more impressive was her studious inclinations. On many occasions Meissa saw the Lion trudging along through textbooks in the library or in the designated study rooms. These last sightings were rather one sided as the blond always intentionally placed herself out of view whilst studying. Out of sight, out of mind. Meissa indeed realized all of these rewarding characteristics somewhere deep down. She was far too observant not to. But these pockets of realization lay deep enough that her brain simply couldn't pick up on the signals. It was as if the receptors fired to no avail. For from the age her mind was able to process words and then onwards, Meissa had been trained to hate those different from her. Those with lesser looks, lesser names, lesser blood status, and everything in between. She made strategic exceptions to the familial rules. Ferdinand being the biggest one to date. Kylie, her roommate, tread on thin ice with her own muggle birthing but barely skated by if for no other reason than to avoid awkwardness. But being outright nice to one of muggle heritage lay just out of her capacity. It simply stretched her purposely underdeveloped emotions too far. In another world, indeed.

Meissa's tense muscles released slowly as the conversation shifted into work mode. Like a chain of dominos: the more they read, the less they talked, the sooner the torture ended. Boom, boom, boom. One could not fall if the other didn't first. For now, focusing on the assignment, Meissa easily filled the air with ramblings regarding animagus. "Never pegged you for the studious type," Clinging to her ice queen reputation, the girl mainly that statement. Only a slight shrug addressed it, for now. She was used to people's surprise regarding her mind. Others underestimated its capacity more often than not. Good. Further onwards her words traveled, marching into dangerous territory if this was to remain civil. "Oh?" Meissa inclined her head, clearly not quite finished. When she had, she made it clear as crystal by nodding in agreement with her prior statements. She didn't know Aimee well, but she liked to think she knew people. And nobody, at least nobody Meissa cared to know, could possibly be that pleasant that often. "Yes, well, you never have to explain honey to anyone." Meissa watched Aimee carefully, her eyes looking for additions to the simple statement. When it didn't come, she interjected her own add on. "Maybe to some you don't. To some you do. The people who doubt the honey is as pure as it presents itself." Again, she built from assumptions. Aimee had a quick tongue. Nobody with an arsenal that full of sarcasm should waste it on kindness. "They essay only has to be 11 inches. It shouldn't take more than an hour to finish." Meissa turned her eyes away, back to the textbooks. She felt weird training her gaze on the Lion for too long. "Then let's shoot for forty-five minutes." Aiming to be contradictory or not, Meissa knew the two girls had enough brain power to knock it out if they put everything else aside, her own snippy remarks included. That'd be a tough one. Again Meissa looked up at the sound of further words. She nodded slowly, adding in a slightly forced smile. If Aimee could try, so could he. She certainly wasn't about to be outdone. "That's a valid assumption. But the similarities may stop there. Animagus can only morph into their one shape without wand work. With transfiguration and a wand, other options arise," she trailed off unwilling to see the shock again. "And by the way, I never pegged you as one to judge. Just, don't bother being surprised. You aren't the first. You certainly won't be the last." she said finally addressed the earlier remark. Whatever.
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Aimee O'Hara
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Fifth Year

It was hard to say exactly how Aimee felt about Meissa. It was difficult only because Aimee hadn't really had any real interaction with her. Sure. she had heard lots of rumors talking about much of a bitch she was, but Aimee had never been one to listen to the foolish whispered prattle in the corridors. She simply wasn't daft enough to believe everything she heard - especially when it came to judgments of character. If she didn't personally know that person, it was difficult for her to pass any sort of judgment. Aimee knew next to nothing about Meissa other than what she heard and her last name. She could only assume she wasn't a studious type considering Aimee was nearly always in the library and she never saw her there. And she seemed to have a rather cold demeanor, but demeanors were often lies. Aimee had never taken any time to really sit down and talk to her - but then part of that was simply because the perceptions of both girls were vastly different and while they may not have disliked each other - it certainly bordered that line in their words sometimes. She tried not to sound too rude about not seeing Meissa as a studious type. Aimee just assumed because she never saw her in the library or study hall. But she had to admit being a bit impressed by her knowledge and her rather clever assessment of the Lion. The part about the honey bothered her a bit, but she tried to keep her words to a minimum.


"Maybe to some you don't. To some you do. The people who doubt the honey is as pure as it presents itself." Aimee stared at her a long moment, before sighing quietly. "Perhaps so," she relented a bit, "but in general, people would rather believe what people tell them. Ignorance is bliss, as they say." And that was that. She didn't want to talk about it anymore and she hoped that Meissa would just drop the subject altogether. Besides, they needed to work on this essay. It shouldn't take more than an hour to get everything done, really. "Then let's shoot for forty-five minutes." Aimee nodded in agreement easily. More discussion as they went through the notes and Aimee didn't argue with her assessment. She opened her mouth to respond, but Meissa cut her off. "And by the way, I never pegged you as one to judge. Just, don't bother being surprised. You aren't the first. You certainly won't be the last." Aimee stared at her a long moment, suddenly feeling a bit guilty. "I only meant I hadn't seen you in the library," she offered as way of apology. She went on, her voice calm but genuine."I didn't mean to offend you." She dropped it again and went back to her book. "The legal situations are different as well," she said slowly, trying to ease back to the issue at hand. "No special laws for Transfiguration outside of the law for underage magic, but an Animagus must be registered." She glanced up at her. "Why do you think that is? It seems as thought Transfiguration - if used properly - could be more dangerous than an Animagus, but the laws are more restricting for the latter." Her brow furrowed as her eyes scanned the pages eagerly. This was her element. And for a moment, not even the notion that she was working with someone who wasn't particularly fond of her could breach her studious mood. Forty-five minutes? Make that thirty-five.
. . . Prefect | Intelligent | Sarcastic | Her Song | Recovering | Sixeen | Taken . . .
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