Nice To See You Again....

Over all the stupid, excited children, Chris sighed. This was what she had expected on the Hogsmeade trip. Kids ran past her and she could smell the rancid smell they gave off. One kid had bumped into her and told her to move. Sadly, the kid faced a roll down the hill after Chris pushed him. She decided to sit down on a bench since there was nothing fun to do.... or at least to her.

What she hadn't expected was to run into her dreadful brother. She had bumped into him and her bag was on the ground. She picked her bag up and looked at him. Chris hadn't seen him for a long time and was actually glad she hadn't. It seemed like he was always trying to do something to get away from his siblings. She rolled her eyes and said, "Hey Allisatir."

The Three Broomsticks was quite possibly the worst place to be when the students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry poured from the gates of the famed castle and thundered down into Hogsmeade to spend their parents’ money on confectionary items they most assuredly did not need. Still, if their teeth went to rot and their stomachs bulged, that was not the problem of the Professors but instead the problem of the children and the parents for giving the foolish, naive things more money than they knew what to do with. No, they had little sense of how to use the money properly and they certainly had no sense of what was important and what wasn’t. Alistair had always been taught to handle money carefully - mostly because he rarely had it - but now he seemed to have spare change near constantly jingling in the pockets of the trousers that had set him back hundreds of pounds at a time. He didn’t know where the money was coming from, though he supposed some of it was his salary, it was just there.

Today though, instead of blowing his money like the students were, Alistair settled for buying a few books and getting a cup of coffee to go from the little cafe opposite. Then slowly he made his way back up the road with every intention of returning to the castle for the day in order to have some time to himself. From where he was walking he could see the turret of the south tower peeking over one of the roofs and he could almost feel the soft satin bed sheets he’d been lounging in that morning. And as much as Alistair yearned to go back there, he knew it would be a long, brisk walk yet before he could. However, it was sure to take even longer because his musings were broken when one of the pesky little children bumped into him. The only difference was that it was a far more annoying child in the form of one of his least favourite siblings. The ones he hated the most were already dead, as the tallies on the bedpost in Hogwarts reminded him. This one he didn’t feel as bitter about as she was his father’s dirty little secret, as were the rest.

At first, Alistair said nothing. There was a pregnant pause between them and the man pressed his lips together in frustration before gently tapping his lips against the side of the to-go cup he’d been given in the cafe. He then proceeded to lift the cup to his lips and take a swig of the hot coffee before lowering it back down to his side again. “Are you done?” He asked impatiently. “Some of us have jobs to do.”

Chris rolled her eyes again. "Hello to you too. And I don't think that being the CEO of Major Jerk Offs counts as a job!" she said to him. She really didn't like at all. They didn't like each other as kid, Chris doesn't like him now, and doesn't think she'll like him in the future. "How's life?" she said not even caring about what's happening with his life. At least he was a death eater. If he was an Order prat, her disdain for him would be even greater than it is. But she has to admit, she has a little respect for him, just doesn't like him...

There was a super awkward pause. What was he doing here in the middle of a Hogsmeade trip? Wow! He's dumber than I thought.... she thought. She laughed inside her head but knew if he saw her laughing for no reason, Allistair would think he was a lunatic. Not that she ever gives what he thinks.... Now Chris really wished she hadn't met him here.

Alistair blinked at Chris, unsure as to what she just said. He was guessing it was something Muggle though he was hardly well versed in the slang of the time. He was hoping that, seeing as she was supposedly raised by their father, the man would have instilled some sense of brain matter into the girl. But then, perhaps that was what happened when you grew up with Lorcan. Alistair didn’t know as he spent most of his time with the Rhodin’s when he was a child and certainly didn’t meet his father until he started Hogwarts. He didn’t remember much of Chris as a baby - probably due to the need to block out unpleasant thoughts - and so therefore didn’t develop a high opinion of her. He was merely indifferent. He didn’t like any of his half-siblings as a rule. He didn’t like his mother, his father or his step-father. Two were dead; the other was still alive in some shape or form. Alistair wasn’t particularly desperate to kill his father. Lorcan was more of an annoyance than anything else - one that bred things like Chris.

“I’m sorry -- what?” Alistair frowned at the girl. “Start speaking English, sweetheart, you are in the United Kingdom after all. I think it might be a requirement. So what are you, a sensitive Slytherin? Lost Damien somewhere along the way did you? I’m sure he’d teach you how to execute yourself properly and not be an embarrassment. If your mother was a Mudblood then I might possibly understand but as it is she was, and still is no doubt, a common whore. There is very little I can do about your unfortunate situation but one would think your father would instil some sort of decorum into you. Learn, Chris, however late it is now. What are you, sixteen? Start learning how to conduct yourself otherwise you’ll never survive. Not that surviving is the most important thing mind you but it helps. Life is persisting. And yourself?”

(Lol! I guess it's the Half-Blood in her )
Chris smirked. "Wow. For once I agree with you. She is a whore but how would anyone know that? I don't even know her but as it stands neither do you so don't talk about things you don't know about, dear," she said to him smiling, "Mmm. My situation... Even if there was something I need help with, you know I don't need a thing from you because it's not like you would be willing to help," she said with an eyebrow raised, "Yes I'm 16. Just in case you need help understanding that sixteen consists of a 1 and a 6. Ring a bell? Thanks for the "advice"," she rolled her eyes. "I'm glad to here that," she said. He actually asked her the same thing. What a surprise! Chris's disdain for him was beyond anything she could put into words. "Hanging in there. I just can't wait until it's over. I do mean Hogwarts if you need help understanding."

Chris started to get bored of the worthless conversation she was having with this thing but continued to listen to him. It was a real waste of her time.

There was a stain on the D’Eath household, in the form of the Half-Bloods that coursed through it. Bad enough that the Vampire blood was present, that the Vampire curse was present, the insult to injury was the extent of the Half-Blood contamination. Though, admittedly, being a Vampire was very little to be proud of. Alistair felt himself lucky that his traits manifested in his unconscious but rearing desire to kill. The various graves erected because of his hand would not be forgotten because it was those deaths that helped define him - those deaths that put the price on his head, the price now wiped from Ministerial records. He enjoyed his siblings far too much. The amusement he got from them was never ending though he couldn’t deny the way his hands twitched and his eyes fell to the barely visible trail of blue beneath the pallor of their necks. The insanity they presented him with was something he did not act upon. Of course he did wish in vain for their deaths but he was sure they could be of some worth - eventually.

“You’re a child,” Alistair reasoned, unable to keep the patronizing tone from his voice, “and therefore you are in no position to suggest what I do or no not know. I’m weathered by the world, Christina; it’s merely caressed the surface of your little life. Perhaps for that I will concede I am jealous. Still, no matter.” Alistair shrugged noncommittally and raised his cup to his lips for a mouthful of coffee. Once swallowed, the elder D’Eath tapped his fingers against the side of the cup and continued to listen to the younger girl. She was almost, almost irritating and he could just about appreciate her bite. “Do you want some money for the shops?” Alistair inquired, brushing away her comments as if they were merely misplaced lint on the shoulders of his suit. “Or do you have enough? I had better be on my way really.”

He nudged up the arm of his jacket and peered at the watch clasped around his wrist. He nodded and let it fall back before managing a small, rare smile for the girl. He then reached into his bag and pulled out a small pouch of gold. He let the bag clasp itself shut again and he tossed the pouch to the girl before smirking and sidling past her, calling over his shoulder that she, “shouldn’t let that Rookwood letch near you. Go for the family jewels if he does.”