Ghosts [Open]

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AnaLeigh Nattlick's life was full of ghosts and always had been. No, not the kind that bump in the night and scare you on Halloween. The kind of ghosts that were from empty memories, people who had deserted her. Ghosts. Thats what Diagon Alley really was to her, just a big reminder of all the times she had a chance and ruined it, of how many people she had hurt, and how many people had hurt her. But something compelled her to return.

Most of Ana's teenage years were a big blur, of parties and drinking and meaningless relationships. At the end of the day, Ana had nothing and nobody. But for those blur of years, AnaLeigh was happy as could be. Hogwarts was as close to a normal, stable home as Ana ever had, or thought she ever would. For what felt like the slightest moment, Ana had it all. Every first year worth her fifteen minutes of fame knew Ana's name. But the legacy she had built up was made of glass, and soon enough it shattered around her. In her seventh and final year at Hogwarts AnaLeigh fell for a boy she knew she couldn't have. Which made her want him even more. His name was Rhys and he was exactly like Ana. Carefree, arrogant, and reckless. Or, at least thats how Ana
remembered him. By his sixth year, Rhys had gone and fallen in love with some girl. Not that it mattered to Ana. She got what she wanted and what- no, who she wanted was Rhys. The flaw in her plan that Ana didn't realize until it was too late was that she always wanted things too badly. She had taken things too far and got hurt. Physically, that is. Rhys punched her and it had broken her nose. Ana became hopeless.

But then she met Shiloh Cooper. She fell head over heels in love with him, this coming for the girl that never believed in love at all. Shiloh helped Ana grow up. For months she didn't touch alcohol, which had been her only love since she was fourteen. But then like everything else that ever mattered to her, Shiloh disappeared and Ana hadn't seen him in over a year.

Shiloh leaving her had been the last straw. A week after, she quit her job and left, going to stay somewhere in Germany. Really, Ana just wanted to get away from anything and everything familiar. Now, over a year and a half later, Ana was back in London working the same crap job she always had. The Leaky Cauldron had been her second home since she left her 'real' home.

Now, wiping down the counter top and waiting for the few drunk men to stagger home so she could really begin her night. If she stayed in the dirty bar any longer she would go insane. As strong as she was about staying away from the booze as Ana was, it wasn't exactly easy being a bartender for half the night. With a sigh she sat down on an empty stool and wished for something good to come her way. Ana didn't want anymore ghosts.




TAGGED:: Open
WORDS:: Enough!?
LYRICS BY:: SEX ON FIRE - KINGS OF LEON
CREDIT TO:: RORA AT HOS

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all out of my control,[/font]
CAN'T SAY WHEN I'LL BE THERE AGAIN
IT'S TIME NOW TO TURN AROUND
TURN MY BACK ON EVERYTHING[/font]
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Corrine Aaron darted across the dingy London street, reaching the other side and immediately starting walk quickly down the sidewalk. Her classic black heels made the clicking sounds that she loved so much against the concrete but she ignored it. Cory didn't have time to revel in feeling like she was ready kick some ass in high heels, instead she felt stupid for wearing them, especially considering her current situation. Her royal blue blouse and black coat made soft rustling sounds as she hurried down the nearly deserted street.

Finally, she turned down another sdie street and slipped into the London bar The Leaky Cauldron, glancing over her shoulder nervously. No dark figures trailed her this time. Looks like I've lost them, she thought with a sigh of relief. Good. Those goons had no doubt been sent to find her by her Great Grandmother. The thought made Cory shudder. Like a lot of stereotypical matriarchs, her Great Grandmother was a dragon of a woman, someone who had always made Cory feel small and insignificant, even now.

Cory shook off the feelings of insignificanse, she had nor reason to feel like that anymore, and instead focused on her surroundings. The bar she had gone into was small, dark and smoky. What appeared to be gas lamps hung from the cieling, casting dim shadows through the room. Cory's shoulders slumped as she made her way over to the bar. This was wat her life had become. Running from shadow men sent by her family to hunt her down. Life was just fantabulous. Not for the first time Cory mentally berated herself for changing only her first name and not her last. That really had been very stupid on her part.

The Aaron Clan back in America were avid Quidditch fans and news about England's Windborn Wasps new Chaser was sure to have reached their ears. She really should have expected them to come after her, especially when, in her first years as a runaway, broke and goldless, Cory had practically emptied the Aaron vault at Gringotts using the key she had stolen before leaving.

Cory plopped down on a bar stool a couple of seats away from a pretty blonde girl roughly her age. The girl looked like how Cory felt and Cory's ever-empathetic heart went out to her.

"Bad day?" she asked as Tom, the incredibly ancient and toothless barman, placed a shot of firewhiskey in front of her. Cory downed it in one gulp, her face pinching up as the liquid hit her throat. She put the shotglass back down on the bar and motioned for Tom to pour another and leave the bottle. Tom did so then wandered away, leaving Cory and the stranger girl alone at their end of the bar.

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The bells on the rusty old door chimed and in stepped a pretty brunette girl about AnaLeigh's age, maybe a little younger. The girl Ana recognized from the Wondborne Wasps, a chaser perhaps? Ana racked her brain for names, something like Cora? Corrine. It hit Ana after two minutes of hard thinking. "bad day?" Slowly it dawned on Ana that she was being addressed and shrugged. The wrinkled bartender poured her her second shot of firewhiskey then ambled away. Ana looked at him and said she would manage the bar for the rest of the night. The small man resembling the Hunchback of Notre dame nodded and grunted.

Ana scooted down to the opposite end of the bar where Corrine stood. "I suppose. Working here's a drag sometimes, you know?" Judging by the face Corry made when she downed the first shot she wasn't an avid drinker and Firewhiskey probably wasn't her favorite. Actually, if Ana didn't know better, she would have said Corry was slightly frightened. "You alright?" Ana asked, her voice soft and slow. Like she was talking to a child.

A child. A child. Memories flooded Ana's mind. A small red headed child. Angel. Ana's half sister. The child she tried to care for, but couldn't. She had lost herself and fallen back into her old ways, leaving the nine year old to fend for herself. With a shake of the head, Ana tried to rid herself of all her bad memories. Then she walked around to the bar and pored herself a shot of vodka. Firewhiskey was too strong for Ana's taste. It would be her only shot, but she needed something to calm her erratic nerves and buzzing mind. The liquid slid uneasily down her throat and she let out a groan. "A little alcohol can do the nerves good." Ana muttered, mostly to herself.


TAGGED:: Open
WORDS:: Enough!?
LYRICS BY:: SEX ON FIRE - KINGS OF LEON
CREDIT TO:: RORA AT HOS

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[eri]

•

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all out of my control,[/font]
CAN'T SAY WHEN I'LL BE THERE AGAIN
IT'S TIME NOW TO TURN AROUND
TURN MY BACK ON EVERYTHING[/font]
•[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color] •[/color][/center]

Cory shot the blonde a smile. "At least you have a job," she said, her old optomistic nature showing in a rare flash. It had been so lond since she had really comforted anyone, or cared enough to. Her teammates were the closest things she had to friends, except for Phoenix Vipers who she hadn't seen in months, and even then they didn't always include the Rookie in their plans; she was still an outsider. "At least you get free booze," Cory joked in her Texas twang before falling silent.

Cory fingered the dark bottle of Firewhiskey, tracing unseen patterns across the glass. "You alright?" That was such an odd question. Was Cory really alright? No, definitely not. Cory hadn't been "Alright" since she was sixteen, when her baby sister Clara had accidently killed herself. Cory still blamed her grandparents for not taking away the ambitious thirteen year old's wand the minute she got home according to the Salem's rules, and herself for not being there. And now there was her Great Grandmother sending bounty hunters after her, the wretched little ebinezer scrooge.

"A little alcohol can do the nerves good." Cory gave a humourless laugh. "Yeah," she said pouring herself a new glass, "alcohol is a depressent, perfect for jangled nerves." Cory chuckled darkly before downing the second shot. Already she could feel the buzz in her head from the Firewhiskey.