1x1 Roleplays discussion

HI

"Do you even love me?"


"Maybe."

☼Name☼ Laurel Cariad Eleah
✺Nickname:✺
↛Lauriel-The boys could never figure how to say "Laurel" when they were children, and thus the twins add an i to it
✺Birthdate:✺ December 3rd
✺Age:✺ 20
✺Blood Status:✺ As her parents were barely known before her death, she really has no idea what her blood status is. Yet her power and ease with magic suggests a pure blood heritage

☼Appearance☼





"I've done. I've cut it all off. Now that he's gone I don't need to bother with it. Always hated it anyways"


✺Clothing Style:✺




☼Personality☼
Passionate, fiesty, quirky, relentless, she believes in what is right, and doing anything to get what she wants. She has always been a fighter, and was never one to turn the other cheek or let it roll off her shoulders. She can be counted on delivering the punches, not rolling with them. A rough upbringing has taught her difficulty in getting too attached to people. Yet she is wicked smart, and was top of her grauduating class at Hogwarts, but never chose to be a prefect, as she thought it might get Fred and George in too much trouble.
✺Patronus:✺ Lynx
✺Wand:✺ 13 inches, maple, combination veela hair and dragon heartstring, so springy she carries it in her back pocket

☼History☼
Born to parents who were both aurors and members of the Order during the first magical war, they were on a long insurgents mission in France. She was four when her parents were tortured for information then killed by death eaters. They were hung from the ceiling. Remus was first to arrive and see this.

He knew there was a child in the house, and found her mother had locked her in a closet to protect her.
"Where're my mum and dad?"


"They're gone. But I-I'm here now. Come here. Let's go."
She lived with Remus for the next three months, a content and happy life. Even the tortured young man seemed happier with the little girl around to occupy his time. Yet it wouldn't last. The night of the Potters' death, his home was attacked, and he apparated with Laurel to the Burrow before hearing the news. The girl had been ushered away to be with the children, and then she met them. The twins, that is. An immediate friendship was struck. A decision was made after several weeks that she would live with the Diggorys. She grew up happily with this family until she attended Howarts. She and the twins were nearly inseperable. They shared the same classes, played on Gryffindor's quidditch team. It was their second year that she and Fred became an item. They split in their sixth year, when Fred was caught cheating on her with Angerlina. (George never forgave him for that.) It was during this time that she and George became closer, though she ended up dating Cedric.


The death of her new love and someone she'd been so long close to hit her hard, and pushed her to the breaking point. It opened up some power in her, and pushed her powers farther than before.
"Who is that? George, who's body is that??
In their seventh year she and Fred slowly fixed things (in great part due to his twin and mother), and she spent Christmas with the Weasley's. After graduating top of her class, she lived with the twins above the joke shop, and helped them run the business. She and Fred were closer than ever, and had discussed even the thought of marraige shortly before his death. Fred's death hit her hard, and she could barely bring herself to eat. She lost nearly thirty pounds, cut her hair and couldn't sleep. Yet his twin nursed her slowly back to health in a year, and she now lingers in the shop.

☼Family:☼
Mother and Father-deceased
Remus Lupin-deceased
Mr. and Mrs. Diggory- alive and in touch, yet they are not close
Cedric Diggory- deceased

☼Songs:☼
Us Against the World by Coldplay
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rbu672...
Human by Christina Perri
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r5yaoM...

"Can I ask you something? How'd he die?"


"Laughing"

Laurel sighed and yawned as she leaned upon her hand behind the counter. It was the middle of summer, and traffic was strangely slow today. She'd fallen asleep twice already, only to start awake to George covering the cash register. He knew she never slept at night anymore, and she knew he didn't mind covering for her, but she hated being a burden. And that was all she felt like sometimes. Once Fred had died, George shouldered the care of the shop and his brothers long time girlfriend for him. The first months had been brutal. She'd lost thirty pounds, and George thought she wouldn't make it. Yet she had. It was approaching a year since the Battle of Hogwarts, and her youthful gaze and complexion had returned to her, all that was missing was her hair.

She sat up, tousling her short and honey brown locks, swiveling on the stool she sat on. She pressed her finger to his chest, her naturally rosy lips a firm line. "Weasleys Wizard Weezes does not close it's doors. Ever. You, your brother and I only ever agreed upon one thing. And that was it. So the shop stays open or you'll lose this one too!" She took hold of his remaining ear with her thin fingers and gave a firm tug.

"I don't need sleep" she sighed, shoving up the oversized sleeves of the maroon Weasley Christmas sweater she wore, which immediately slid back down on her lithe frame. It was his, of course. Not that she didn't have her own. This still smelled of him. Him and the freckles she missed so.... She sighed, looking out the front glass panes. "What's got you antsy anyways?" She asked, giving him a look, one eyebrow raised sky high.

She drew patterns on the counter with her fingers. Lamb chops. Her weakness. She cursed herself and her large appetite, yet gave up soon enough. "Ohhh Georgie, that sounds absolutely stunning!" She leaned forward and kissed his cheek exuberantly, sighing happily in the most dramatic way she could muster, turning and pulling her wand from her shorts. "You're ridiculous. " she said finally, laughing at the look on his face before jogging up the stairs. She walked through the loft and to the window, looking out onto the empty street, save a few witches and wizards milking about.

((Aww Mann I want Fred back so bad but I LOVE the George is going for her))
Laurel sighed, sliding down to her knees and folding her arms in the windowsill, her fuzzy sleeves allowing her to bury her head against then and squeal. From every emotion that churned inside her. He was so unlike his brother. Wasn't his brother. Wasn't what she wanted. Yet she had wanted George in the past, but had gotten derailed. Her mind went down this flip flipping of sides for a while before changing tracks to dinner. She hoped it wasn't with friends. At least, not Angelina. It seemed all she ever talked about was Fred, and by the end of the meal last time, George had to pull Laurel away from the table. She sighed and sat in th window, dangling one leg in and one leg out, head against the brick. And with the breeze at her back, drifted to sleep.

She woke up, her head against his shoulder, a smile, slow and sift, like the wind, as she resurfaced into breath in reality. The same dream. Always. Laying underwater with Fred. She looked in a confused way up at George for half a moment, her mind discerning between him and his brother. "Hello" she whispered finally, her eyes still half shut. "You're messing up my hair"

(Are they a thing?))

"Well then!" She huffed, standing and moving to look in her antique, floor length mirror, tousling it till it pleased her. "No need to be so rude. " she pulled up her high waisted shorts, with deep pockets for her wand, and tucked in the oversized sweater before turning back to the fiery haired boy. "What do you want from me?"

((I'm sorry. He's just so loving and I can't even deal because I don't know if you knew it or just got lucky but George is more loving and caring then Fred so you play him to perfection and GAH ITS SO PERFECT))

"Why did you close the shop? That's not normal of you..." She whispered. She strode slowly over to the bedside, sitting on it, her hand brushing his leg for a brief moment. And in that moment, she swore she wanted his arms to hold her, to comfort her. She supposed so long mourning together brought up old feelings.

She swallowed and pulled her hand away. Her least favorite subject. Fred. She hated bringing him up. Or rather, when someone else did. She never spoke of him. His very name being spoken made her draw back into herself. It drew her back to when the darkness of losing him threatened to consume her. And made her feel guilty for this. For George. But how could she not want him, when he cared for her more than anything. "I really am better. Are you?" She whispered dryly.

She looked down upon him with his smiling eyes. He was broken. Only half there. He hurt more than she did, she knew that. Though she thought he'd moved past it. She slid against the bed, laying back in the pillows beside him. "You don't have to put on an act George" she breathed. She was laying beside him, and wanted so bad to touch him. Yet the thought of Fred fresh on her mind kept her stiffly at bay, staring at the ceiling. "You don't have to"

Laurel couldn't hide the smile that crept onto her face at that, devilish and pleased with it. Dusk was falling out and she stood in front of him. "And what, pray tell, is the attire?" She smirked sarcastically before walking cross the room and glancing out the window she never closed.

She smiled, watching him leave as she recovered from their conversation, putting on an emerald greed casual dress with straps that came to mid-thigh, two cutouts in the middle. This she paired with simple oxfords, as she never did heels. Or makeup. Neither were her thing. After scrutinizing herself in the mirror she apparatus downstairs and sat at the counter waiting for him, her gaze down on her shoes.

"George be careful!" She wailed from downstairs, hopping up and walking over to the door. "Coming...coming...coming!" She shouted in impatience, groaning as she undid the latch on the door and threw it open.

An ear piercing shriek split from Laurel's throat as she whipped her wand from her pocket. Taking an unsteady step back she fell to the floor, and crawled back from him, wand raised as her heart palpitated, her face pure white and eyes wide as saucers. "Who. Are. You. " she panted in a shaky voice.

She stood but shook George off, her face furious as she moved to cover the ground between her and Fred quickly. "No. Fred is dead. Who are you?" She demanded, something building inside of her. She had no idea who this jokes yet was, but she was about to kill him.

A powerful witch, Laurel simply flicked her wrist and the Fred fake flew into the wall, making a deep thud that shook the picture frames above him. "No. You fowl creature. He's dead. It's not. Funny" she flicked her wrist again. "Who are you?"

((Ha alright))

"I-" she froze, wavering from fight and fear, emotion flooding through her as she gripped her wand so tightly her knuckles were white, biting into her lip and drawing blood. "No...that can't be.." she whispered, shaking her head slightly in denial.

Her wand clattered to the floor as she watched him for a moment. He couldn't be alive. Yet she remembered that scar on his right arm, that stature, the way he stood. So unlike anyone else- especially his brother. She remembered those freckles. The number just above his eyes-63- and their color and placement. She wasn't aware that time had passed or that he and his brother were speaking. Just that he was here. "Fred." she breathed his name finally. The first time she'd said that word in over six months, her eyes locked on him, fearing she'd blink and he would disappear

She immediately broke into sobs, burying her face in his chest. She tried to wrap her arms around his neck, yet was still to short. She never could quite reach. So he fists clenched his shirt before they beat agaisnt him weakly. "Don't do...this" she sobbed between each word. "Because...I'll wake up...and you'll be gone..again!" she cried out.

She began to laugh hysterically between sobs and kisses, her hands in his fiery, singed hair as tears streaked down her cheeks. She pressed her lips to his dirty cheeks and his lips as she breathed with quiet laughter, her heart pounding as if she were on drugs.

She laughed happily and painstakingly pressed him back, her breath shallow as she panted for air. That was why. There were many differences between the two, and reasons as to why Fred was favorite. And it was no secret that he was the playboy-the more sexual of the two. He'd been her first, and she intended him to be her last. "Calm down..." she breathed, glancing at his face, eyes closed, head down as his heavy breath hit her shoulder

She ran her hands through her hair to fix it, interlacing her fingers in front of her as a nervous tick, looking around. "That's mainly George's doing...he's the brilliant idea man.." she said in a musing way, following his gaze around the store, her eyes darting to George for half a heartbeat.

Her smile had fallen slightly and she shrugged simply, her face slack as she studied his face, with some form of wary and reserved affection

She nodded, and watched him, gesturing to the stairs. She stood a long time then in silence, her eyes on George, her breath slow and calm as she watched him return her gaze, licking her lips nervously. She thought he wasn't going to say anything, and made to follow Fred up the stairs, brushing past him

Laurel jogged up the stairs, walking down to her room, as they had shared it before and she hadn't gotten rid of anything. "Fred?" she asked, pushing her door open and stepping into the room, her voice small and shaky.

She gave him a sympathetic smile, though her reflective eyes glowed in happiness at the sight of him. She walked to her vintage old dresser, rifling around in the top drawer before pulling out a pair of silver shears, walking towards him. The soft given off by her one lamp cast shadows on his broad and freckled chest. "You need a trim. Look like you've been broiled" she laughed softly.

She busied herself for a moment so that she could think, her shook her head nearly immediately. Even if they had actually been, she'd never admit it to him. She knew George would be much more forthcoming on details when asked. "No" she stated simply, running her hand through hr hair as she clipped the singed ends.

"You...what?" She paused, looking down. She was practically straddling one leg to reach his hair right, not that she'd noticed, too distracted by what he was saying.

"You make me happy." She said in a simple and stubborn way, looking down at him and licking her lips as she ran her hands through his hair to check that it was even.

"Oh. Your mom. I'm. Too dressed up. Hold on" she whispered, opening her wardrobe and pulling out jeans, sneakers and a crop top. She gave him a sideways look before biting her lip, turning her back to him. "Can you unzip this?" She whispered nervously

She sunk into him, her body molding to his as she moaned quietly, laying her head to the side so he could reach better, her breath quickening. "Oh please..." She managed a somewhat calm voice. "You like taking clothes off anyone"

She laughed in a dark and breathy way, rolling her hips against his. "But we both know he would never have compared to you" she breathed, biting her lip so much she began to draw blood.

Her breath caught and her mind swam in his presence, like a drug. She arched her back against the freckled man, her hand gripping his powerful bicep as she sighed in the sweetness of the sensation

She shivered at his touch, her breath calmer now that she had him again. Her missing piece. "I'm sorry I cut my hair...I'll grow it back..." She whispered. His favorite thing used to be running his hands through her hair, and now she worried he was missing it.

"Fred..." She sighed, her hands against his chest, looking across the room and sliding her leg between his . His jeans were hanging dangerously low, and his arousal was obvious. Yet she pushed him back and sighed. "George is waiting for us. And we need to go" she whispered, exhaling against him.

She slid on her outfit in seconds as she walked out the door, apparat inch down to the seat beside George at the counter, giving him a look. "And what's got you so down?"

"George I..." She panicked. She knew Fred would be coming down the stairs any moment now, and didn't want to upset him. What was he doing? "I can't do that!" She urged in a whisper, pushing it back.

She gripped his leg tightly, her jaw setting as some unnamed emotion shone through her. "No. Please keep it. I can't" she let go of him just in time to see Freds feet on the top step. She leapt up and leaned against the railing, sighing deeply. "C'mon. Shall we?" She whispered, smiling a little too happily.

She followed, yet couldn't help feeling hurt. Since when did he not walk with her? And since when was she a part of you two? Yet she followed, fiddling with her wand as she stepped into the cool, breezy summer night and shivered.

She leaned into him, sighing comfortably and licking her lips, trying to memorize the way he breath, his gait when he walked, how exactly he smelled. Things she'd never thought about before now seemed like the world to her. "Are we apps eating there?" She asked off handedly. Though they looked the same, Fred held his jaw firmer than his brother, which always sent her reeling.

She giggled in a sprite like way, leaning her full weight against him easily, rocking forward onto her toes and leaning up to kiss him. It was like he could read her mind. "No...your sister and Harry are an item still. Likewise Ron and Hermione. Your mum will go bloody insane. Percy's same as ever. Bills having trouble adjusting...he was bitten by Fenrir. Oh...and Charlie's back..." She whispered the last but teasingly with a gleam in her eye. Charlie was arguably the most attractive Weasley, and it was no secret that he'd made several passes at Laurel. "Really the only ones bent out of shape was me and Fred" she smiled, her accent a mix of posh and Cockney.

"I think so" she nodded, looking up to him in the moonlight, sighing in a soft and content way as she held onto his freckled and beefy forearms.

...

Everyone stopped and turned to them, and the room fell completely silent. That is, until someone interrupted his mother from the dishes and pointed him out, at which point she dropped a plate.

It was a rush of red hair all out once, crying and laughing and screaming filling the kitchen as Laurel ducked out and away from the group just in time, deciding to wait in the garden till the noise had died down.

She sat among the poppies and wildflowers,sighing as she sat with her face in her hands. He was back. And George was depressed and she felt bad for being this happy. She was on her back, looking up at the sky. This was where Remus had left her-before she went to live with the Diggory's. So much had changed since then, very few things for the better. "Yeah?" she called back, picking the petals off a poppy.

"Oh..me first!" she laughed, propping herself up on her elbows and laying the petalless stem on his chest. "He loves me not.." she sighed with a pout, pushing him back. "Big jerk"