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Post by Desdemona Grey on Jan 28, 2008 22:39:09 GMT -5
Perhaps James was a bit sharper than Demona was giving him credit for, after all, he kept the name simple, not letting anything out that he didn't have to. First names meant nothing, but last names, they seemed to trip you up more than you would like. Last names sort of cemented things in place, carving out that rut in history, whether you liked it or not. No matter how hard you ran or how much you fought it, you could never really shake the reputation which clung to your last name, marking everything it came into contact with.
He was nervous, this much was apparent. Demona doubted James knew who she was, after all, she had been far too careful in her departure from Italy and her rather quite entrance into England. The Ministry had nothing on her save for her school records and the tragic accounts of her families sad demise. No doubt, Harry had taught his son a few tricks of the trade, but from what Demona had heard about the Potters, things weren't as cheerful as they seemed. James apparently wasn't getting along with father, at least that was what Demona's contacts within the Ministry had told her and as a result, James had not been too keen on learning at his old man's feet.
As James stood, Demona watched him, pouting out her bottom lip and looking at James with those green upturned eyes. "Surely your not refusing the company of a lonely young woman James," she said as her foot stopped kicking and she uncrossed her legs. "Besides," she said, standing slowly, pushing off the arms of the chair with her hands, "We both know you've got nothing to do but finish that bottle of vodka," she went on, her voice softer and lower now.
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Post by James Potter on Jan 29, 2008 1:16:59 GMT -5
It would be nice wouldn't it? To forget about all the worry and caution taking over--to just let loose and have some fun. Des seemed willing enough! Of course she was willing enough, or why else would she be here?! For something that wasn't good! No where near such a drasticly defined phrase. For with everything he was taught, James knew one thing best. Smell evil, run! Especially when you're alone.
"Yes, well..." Swallowing, he managed to keep his eyes from flashing and undressing her well curved body, and turned away. Hand on the end of the bed, turned the smalled edged corner. Just giving himself some clean air to breathe, and some light space to think.
"Guess you picked the wrong guy...I'm more of a loner anyway." Stay at a good distance from the girl? Keep himself intact. Keep his upstairs mind in control, keep control of the situation! Simple as that.
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Post by Desdemona Grey on Jan 29, 2008 20:44:27 GMT -5
Demona had always gotten her way her entire life and every man (or woman) she had set her greedy eyes upon had always fell into her lap, so when James blatantly turned her down, scampering away like a dog with its tail tucked neatly between his legs, well...let's just say it didn't sit well. Demona was barely in control of her sanity on the best of days and even though she knew she had to keep in control, it didn't mean it was easy for her. She could have turned James inside out and played with his intestines before the little girl gasped out a meek little whimper. With a snap of her fingers, she knew her little pet downstairs would come running, all too eager to play with James' organs. However, actions like those weren't permitted, not with this one. James was too important and whether he realized it or not, he had a great destiny laid out before him.
Taking a deep breath, Demona steadied her nerves, forcing that rage underneath her soft demeanor back down. She gave a laugh of sorts, looking at James with a quizzical look, as if she were thinking about something. "Are you actually afraid?," she asked him, staring hard into his eyes now, forcing him to confront her in a small way. Was James all talk and no action? Was all this supposed suave act just that, an act? "Your not a bit....green when it comes to women are you?," she asked him again, stepping closer to him, moving around the bed, cornering James and forcing the situation further.
From the way James had been acting, Demona figured he at least had spent some time in the company of a few girls while in school, but now....well, she began to question that assumption. Then again, girls back at school and a lady like her, were two very different things.
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Post by James Potter on Jan 29, 2008 23:53:36 GMT -5
As she had stepped closer, his feet absent mindedly went back. Until such a time as he was truly cornered--but before he could really comprehend the situation he was thrown way off guard. Did she just say he was afraid? Afraid of women? She was mocking him, he knew it. Demona had taken his disinterest as fright! The sheer nerve! James Potter was never afraid, not of anything...well...
But never women! Those were the one thing that kept him even partly sane in this drastically evil world!Kept both parts of his brain, up and down, in check. Without them who knew where this guy would've ended up, probably in some nerdy court room where his father always was. Sure, James admired the old man! His father was a legend after all, and was talented. But he didn't need to be a Harry Jr. He wasn't a replica of some d*mn hero, he was himself! James Sirius Potter! And Heaven 'n Hell forbid him to make a true identity of himself!
But it seemed, no matter how far her ran. No matter how waisted he got, or what girl he shagged--no matter how many auror trainings he ditched, he always became tense around darkness. He knew something wasn't right about this Desdemona! He'd been raised in an environment to where he could know on a minutes notice...strange enough it had taken him nearly a whole hour before he could even sense something was off...
Looking the woman directly in the eye, he quietly--and quite shortly--cleared his throat, "First things first, I hate the color green...and secondly you're just--" He cut himself off, and quickly forced his ego down. Knowing he had to pull on a different approach. And it clicked instantaneously, "I'm just not your type." Switching things around a bit.
With his back against the edge of the bed, his hand swatted at the air until it met with the wall close by. Turning his angle, he made sure to take another step back--this time quite aware--leaned back against the wall, and folded his arms across his chest, "Completly not what you need, wouldn't be able to satisfy you in the least..." Every single word of that sentance cut him deep! He totally could! James Potter was definitely man enough! But to get her out of the room...? He had to use drastic measures.
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Post by Desdemona Grey on Jan 30, 2008 17:23:38 GMT -5
And there was that hint of the anger deep inside of James Potter once more. A flash of enjoyment flashed across Demona's face and her smile widened as James confronted her, in his own backward sort of way. She watched his eyes with delight, seeing the anger which dared to jump and flow forth, but as James quickly clammed up, so did that precious sweet anger of his. It seemed that he had enough of his father still in him to hold him back from the great things he was capable of doing. Hesitation and the lack of strength to do what one's heart desired is what separated mediocre wizards from the really great ones. Demona herself had learned how to give into those desires, how to go after what she wanted long ago and it was this same drive which would lead her down the road to greatness, but whether it would be alone or with another, well...that was yet to be seen.
James' fumbling attempt at escaping her clutches, while humorous, loosened Demona's smile and disappointment showed in her eyes. She knew James was blowing smoke in some feeble attempt to discourage her and while she was a bit less impressed with him at the moment, she did admire the way he tried to manipulate the situation by sacrificing his own ego. Do exactly the opposite of what your foe expected you to do and then you could move then in any way you wanted while they were trying to figure out what was going on.
"And you would know what it takes to satisfy me James?," she asked him, lowering her head and staring him down now, "I'm not one of your cheaply bought tramps from Diagon Alley, nor am I someone who wastes their time with two bit would be wizards or witches," she went on, her voice growing a bit more serious now, "Now, please do not assume you know what I would and would not like, I find it quite demeaning....Don't you?," she asked him, perhaps hitting a bit close to home on that question.
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Post by James Potter on Jan 30, 2008 17:51:20 GMT -5
When she gave retaliating words, he felt guilt stricken. He hadn't meant to insult her, or call her anything of the 'tramp' kind of nature. James knew just by breathing the same air that she was of a calabre far above almost any one else. He was just being shallow, like any other guy, and risked his own ego just to kick her out. But any thought process he had on the subject went numb with her next question---
Now, please do not assume you know what I would and would not like, I find it quite demeaning....Don't you?
She might've mean that possibility in a different way, but it struck a chord with James. He stiffened, and if anything--went a bit ridged. That was his life. Since birth--always being assumed to be the man his father turned out to be. A hero, a good little boy who would follow the rules...someone who would help everyone in need, and risk everything for the good of others.
It wasn't like James was a snake, he had those share of qualities. But he was completly different then Harry. James had raised himself to believe and act in a way his father never would. He wanted to be different, needed to be different. And always acted...well, different. But he was locked in his father's shadow. Once upon a time it meant something, he loved it...but now? It just killed him. Was that all he'd ever be? Harry Potter's son?
"I didn't mean to call you anything of the sort" He pushed out--trying to be a bit more reasonable, "and if thats what I said then I apologize..." Swallowing, he kept his eyes strictly on hers, "but I am just a guy from the street...there's nothing special about me, and I'm not one to waste a ladies night, especially when she can find better." He was practically crying from all the strikes he threw at himself. He had a very strong 'n high ego--and this was killing him. But he refused to let her know who he was, who his father was...for now he would simply be James. And nothing more.
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Post by Desdemona Grey on Jan 30, 2008 18:55:00 GMT -5
James was walking a very thin line and not with Demona, no, he was walking the line between being a puppet and being a free man. Demona saw the pleading look in his eyes, even if James himself didn't. She didn't need legilimency to read him, no...right now he was an open book to her. While not as rich as her, James was still leading a good life, one which he never had to raise his finger, just tow the line and be the good son he was told to be. Demona herself could relate, having come from such a prestigious pureblood family and from being a lady and not a son. Women of her stature were to be one thing and one thing only, a pleasant little trophy which never opened its mouth and scampered along lovingly behind their stuffy egocentric husbands. Of course, breaking free of that mold wasn't hard for Demona, she was different from birth, but someone such as James, someone who lacked that little bit of assertion to take what he wanted, well, he needed that certain someone to push him over that line and out of that shadow.
"While I appreciate the apology handsome," Demona said as she once again smiled upon James, "Don't waste your breath, it only makes you appear weaker and takes away that bit of edge that you have over your company," she said, offering him a little piece of advice, something which might just help him muster up a bit of courage somewhere. Looking him over, Demona arched her eyebrow, mentally picking at James' appearance. It wasn't his clothing which she disapproved of, but the way he presented himself. He had no certainty of who or what he was and he lacked heart, the very things which impressed Demona. "What makes us great James is not where we come from, its what we do," she went on casually, looking back into James' unsure eyes, "One of the greatest wizards to ever live came from far worse than where you've been James and he did many great things...," she said, stepping in dangerously close now, her words but a whisper as she raised her hand and traced a finger down his cheek.
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Post by James Potter on Jan 31, 2008 14:49:00 GMT -5
He didn't tremble, just felt her touch to be quite warm for someone who had such an icy aura. James eyes wondered back to hers, just studying the light that danced inside them. There wasn't much, but just enough to that it caused him a bit of confusion. She seemed on the outside to really care, like she wanted to be here. However, it was a feeling that she was a great actress. And could put on a great show...
Something that caught his interest, however, was her talk of a great and famous wizard. Who did many great things...the first name that came to his mind was Voldemort---but he shook it off half a second later, because Dumbledore ruled over. He was raised by a man who cherished the old guy after all. But with everything his father ever said of Voldemort, with all that James heard of him...for someone of such a background, he pulled off a hell of a lot. And knew how to gain power, break from his shell--and keep it. But there was no way he admired the guy...he was the snake remember? The guy James was born to despise!
"Who?" Voice deep, nearly dark itself. He had a flicker of a thought on the person she was talking about. But he felt himself a bit unsure. As if he needed the name voiced aloud to proove any remote theory.
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Post by Desdemona Grey on Jan 31, 2008 22:32:45 GMT -5
James didn't flinch from Demona's touch, a small accomplishment for him but he still had very far to go to really impress Lady Grey. Don't get me wrong, this little step was important because without our first step then the journey never begins. James was clearly already packed for his little hike down the path to greatness, he just needed someone to pry his fingers from the door frame of the house and push him off the front porch. He was going to have to learn to do things for himself and develop the confidence to believe he could do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Demona was more than willing to be that hand which guided him, but she wasn't going to lead him every step of the way, no after a while he would have to let go of her hand and do it all himself.
She let her finger trace down James' chin and her hand brush across his chest one more time as she continued to stare him down, watching his face as he wrestled with his own inner demons. Cutting those apron strings and making a name for yourself, carving out a place in the world that was yours was hard for some people and considering the sheltered life James had, Demona had no doubt it would take him a while to feel comfortable with the whole idea of disobeying his parents. That would all come with time, as long as she played her part correctly and giving her track record, Demona rarely made mistakes.
Demona saw James' next question long before she even made her previous statement. It was no secret that the Potter's idolized Dumbledore and seeing how Harry had been the target of Voldemort for so many years, had suffered so many losses thanks to the Dark Lord, that he would naturally teach his children to hate anything which even remotely made some sort of connection with his archenemy. This hate however, would only serve to help Demona all the more, for when fed, hate grew into an uncontrollable beast that would warp any good heart. Of course, this really didn't make the next answer she would give an easy choice. Demona knew the second she mentioned Voldemort's name, James would no doubt physically throw her out, but that minor set back would be remedied easily enough.
"You don't need my answer James. You already know who I refer to," she said slyly, stepping away from her prey, "Good and evil are relative terms and neither are what make our acts great. Having the heart and power to do what we want to do is what makes us great. Shape the world for the better by not doing anything but hiding, or actually stepping up and doing what we all know is best," she said, stepping back further, turning away from James now, pressing the tip of her wand against her forefinger, a slight smile on her face as she let her words setting in James' mind.
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Post by James Potter on Feb 1, 2008 15:34:55 GMT -5
The words spoken were impowering. Strength and desire dared to course through James' body, the want and need to go after and fullfill that dream, to become a entity seperated from his father. To be his own, to be recognized for his wants--and his accomplishments, rather then the 'Boy Who Lived'! James was proud of his father, don't get him wrong. Of course, he admired the guy...but only to a point...whenever he'd walk down the streets, there'd be whispers. Men, women, and children alike would point and started jabbering on about, "Is that Harry Potter's son?" Sometimes, James just wished he wasn't raised with manners, so he could just shout in their face and scream that he indeed had a name, and if they wanted to spread deliberate gossip, at least give him the respect of his own d*mn identity!
As always, he'd stay as calm as possible, grit his teeth, and walk into the farthest alley. Usually a fist went to the wall, and bleeding would ensue. He'd heal himself quickly, and get back to business. Coming out and appearing to the public like the gentleman he was supposed to be.
This woman in front of him presented an idea that surprisingly James didn't argue with. For most of his childhood, all James had been told was how evil Voldemort was, how dark and corrupted his ways had become. And he had believed it. It was in his third year, and a particular course in DADA, when his professor enlightened him of how dark Voldemort had indeed been, but how great and marvelous those accomplishments were. No body supported the guy, but admitting to how powerful Voldemort actually had been was key day in this Potters life. He started questioning things that day...
And so far, he still did. In the present moment, the only thing that really escaped his mouth was the following, "And you support him...Voldemort..." Not a single winse, not even a cringe. He spoke with bravery, courage--and curiousity. Yes, even James--son of Harry Potter, was curious to the darker side of things. He'll deny it. Oh hell he'll deny it. Especially to himself.
But it was the truth.
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Post by Desdemona Grey on Feb 1, 2008 22:21:51 GMT -5
Good and evil.....Right and wrong...These meanings of these words isn't exactly cemented in stone, for what is right for some is wrong for others. Everybody has their own views of the world and their own outlook on things. What makes some more ambitious than others is their assessment of the consequences of their actions and then their decision if they think the ends justify the means. Demona had chose that fork in the road long ago and hasn't looked back since. She never once questioned her methods or had to ask what if. She knew what she wanted and to her, fulfilling her wants was what would put her on the best path. James however, was still deciding which path he wanted to take and just how much heart he really had. His eyes were beginning to just now open, much like a small kitten or puppy and as a result, he was beginning to see the path which his parents had been leading him wasn't exactly one he liked. Of course, when you have a bigger and more threatening version of you standing in the way of the path that does look right, it makes it all that harder to take it. This of course, was where someone like Demona came in, someone who could show James how to overcome his obstacles.
"Mmmm, how brave," she said teasingly as James mentioned Voldemort's name. Even after all these years, people still refused to speak the name, but those who hadn't really known the horror and awe dared to go against the norm and utter a name which meant nothing to them. James however, wasn't the norm and he knew the meaning behind the name, even if it was a one sided view. "As pure as the newly driven snow," she said, holding up her arms for James to see nothing but a few scratches here and there, as faint as they were. "Voldemort's time has come and gone James, his reign is over," she said simply, smiling as if she took some delight in the matter and really, why should it bother her? Voldemort wasn't around to be in charge anymore and as a result, Demona had ascended to the throne, albeit with ideas of her own.
"What about you love? Are you the follower of a foolish old man or the start of a new generation?," she asked him, not really referring to Voldemort but more to James' father. The lack of names left all sorts of statements up to different interpretations, but just which way would James take her question?
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Post by James Potter on Feb 6, 2008 14:04:21 GMT -5
"I don't follow anyone, I do what I want..." That was James' snappy reply. But something else was bothering him. Something else that she said, "And I am not pure as newly driven anything..." He knew how to be tricky and dark. He had tried to make sure his whole life was centered around breaking the rules, and going against the norm. That's how he was! Definitely not how he was raised, but that only made the idea all the sweeter.
Something about this womant hough was beginning to settle with him. Not in a bad way, and if anything the ill he had towards her was beginning to fade. Mostly because maybe she wouldn't be all that bad. Well, BAD yes, but he didn't have to fear her. If anything was going to happen he'd be able to take care of himself.
And with that thought he pushed himself off the wall, straightening himself up a bit more, "I know what I want, Demona, and I go for it. I don't care what it takes..." Despite how much that may sound like Harry Potter, it wasn't. That phrase had a whole new definition. Pops followed the rules. And if it wasn't safe, he'd give up. Or choose a different route.
At the beginning of this he had been shaken, and completly torn down. Maybe with remnants of hangover. And of course, he wasn't exactly in an alcohol free state right now either? But he felt himself growing stronger, and gaining about that courage and fearless determination that all lions had. He may not be in Hogwarts anymore, but he felt he'd always be a gryff. And that was something he'd be proud of till the end!
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Post by Desdemona Grey on Feb 6, 2008 15:30:42 GMT -5
James Potter held so much potential but did he really have the ambition to spur him on. Courage, yes, but ambition was a different creature. It was what separated the great from the pathetic and while ambition had been the downfall of more than one man, it had also been the savior of many more. Inside of everyone was some sort of dream or another, some desire that longed to be fulfilled but only a handful every realized those dreams and desires. Demona was on the verge of realizing her grandest dream, however it would be the actions of another which would bring about her grand schemes. The son of the legendary hero, the boy of the man who had defeated the biggest threat to the wizarding world would be the catalyst for a whole new era of fear and darkness. A fitting fall of the dice for someone who had manipulated the system while denying that they were. Harry may have been the hero, but he was far from the good heart he pretended to be. Demona had seen him more than once, although never up close and personal, and the presence which he put forth was all too easily read by someone with such a dark heart. It was this which drove Demona in her search for Harry's offspring and helped her devise the mad plan which she now put into play.
"Do you?," she asked him, smiling at James' new found courage and fervor, "So living like a sewer rat in some dilapidated and broken down excuse for an inn is what you want out of life?," she asked him, spurring him own, spurring his anger and ego. "I don't quite think your ready to let go of something," she said slowly, turning as she did, hiding the pleased look on her face from her little play toy, "Mommy's apron strings are still tied a bit too tight around our neck," she said, striking a tender spot for all little boys, hoping to see some of that hidden anger which boiled beneath that pretty surface.
James wasn't quite ready for what Demona had for him, he was still too soft. This however didn't mean he was useless, it just meant he needed a harder push in the right direction. Sacrifices had to be made sometimes if we wished to tap into our full potential and James looked as if he had a great deal of sacrifice ahead of him.
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Post by James Potter on Feb 11, 2008 18:26:51 GMT -5
"Mommy's apron strings are still tied a bit too tight around our neck"
James eyes widened, but quickly narrowed in anger, "My mother has nothing at all to do with me or my actions. All that woman did was give birth to me, I did almost everything else on my own!" Ok, so, maybe Ginny did a heck of a lot more then that. James was the first born after all, he had always been looked after more then his younger siblings. But that was completly beside the point!
How would she know anyway? How could she possibly know anything about his family. He just met her. She's the one who came up to him for some vodka, company sure, and of course he was the only decent male in this entire establishment, but that didn't give her rights to keep blowing at his ego!
"And, I suggest you think at least three times over before you say anything. Because nine times out of ten, Demona, you'll be wrong. You have no idea who I am, or what I've lived with. How could you possibly know anything about my mother, or my relations when I hardly even know your name?" His voice wasn't raised in anger, more of a mocking calm. He felt himself to be right, and he was a bit smug with his answer. Annoyed and frustrated to an extreme.
First he's as white as newly driven snow, and now he's chokin on mommy's control? This woman, who ever the hell she was, had some nerve!
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Post by Desdemona Grey on Feb 12, 2008 21:26:54 GMT -5
James was being awfully confident in his statements and while all this could be perceived as a challenge, Demona held her temper and desire to break James. It would have been so easy, he wouldn't even see it coming, just a flick of her wrist and his chest would be laid open and his blood would color the floor a rich crimson color. That thought brought a small smile to Demona's face, a smile which only grew the more James continued to rant. He was giving in to his base emotions, to the very things which would hand him over to her and the darker side of life. James wasn't destined to be his father, no, he was to be something much more important. He would be the one who help Demona usher in a new era of power in the wizarding world.
"I don't need three times James, because I'm rarely wrong," she replied to him arrogantly yet softly, her voice showing no sign of anger or anxiety. Demona's eyes were strangely calm, as if they were hiding something. The way her face remained so serene and calm it sort of resembled a porcelain mask. The true nature the creature before James was slowly beginning to awaken and show itself. It was feeding off of the malice which emanated from James, growing stronger and bolder with each word. "Now, if you want to know more about me handsome, you've got to give a little yourself," she told him, that dark smile of hers bringing about a cold feeling within the room.
Demona wasn't about to give up too much of who or what she was, not this soon and if James wanted to know just who he was dealing with, well...he was going to have to make sacrifices and devote so much of himself that there wouldn't be enough left to pull him back to the right side of the line.
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