Post by julia on Jun 10, 2010 12:29:08 GMT -8
June 2nd, 2011
4:45 p.m.
4:45 p.m.
10… 11… 12… There were twelve small cracks in the bit of floor Julia was studying in the kitchen, it was a rather large bit situated just in front of the large oven Julia was supposed to be cooking in; the important part of that being that she was supposed to be caring about the food she was cooking. Allowing slaves to prepare food wasn’t the best idea in Julia’s opinion. She’d gotten it in her head many times before to just go on and slip a bit of poison into the soup she prepared. But that would mean getting the poison into her possession, a rather difficult project to undertake and rather dangerous. She doubted many other slaves would get share her ideas, most of them were too afraid to do anything but stare at the floor and go about doing whatever they were ordered. With a sigh Julia moved her gaze back to the oven, reaching a hand out to pull the door open and take a look inside at the chicken she was baking. Yes, she was a fairly good cook, but the young blonde still wasn’t sure why they had ordered her to the kitchen. Did they expect her to unleash some great prophecy while she prepared their food for the night? The thought was amusing, though Julia had never uttered a prophecy in her life. Maybe they were just trying to wear her down. Who knew?
With the practiced gliding air of a true Beauxbatons student Julia moved from the oven and to a cutting board where she was preparing the night’s vegetables for those Death Eaters who would be dining at Puxley. Another mistake they’d made, giving Julia a knife to prepare food. It dawned on her just how morbid she’d become during her stay at the manor, but who could blame her? All she wanted to do was drive the blade into one of the Death Eaters who thought they were so high and mighty, who had stripped her of her freedom and decided that they could force visions out of a Seer. That wasn’t how it worked, and Julia had rolled her eyes at her brother as he had explained her new position in life. At least it was better than being dead or rotting away in a cell in Azkaban, she reminded herself of that every morning. Even if she was being forced to serve she had more freedom than the poor souls locked away in that horrid prison. But true freedom was what she was after, getting out of Puxley and back into the Wizarding World, maybe trying to find some of the people who were voicing their opposition to Trevor Williams’ rule. That would most likely require a wand, which was something Julia wasn’t given. The Death Eaters had some brains. They stood a better chance against poison or a knife, those would be much easier to stop with magic, than if Julia had a wand. It was true that she was only a young woman and had far less teaching than most Death Eaters, but at least a wand would be something.
Thoughts like these were dangerous for her and she knew that, but Julia couldn’t just let herself sit around like the other slaves and learn to be silent, learn to go along with Williams and his followers. She would fight that with all she had, which wasn’t too much at this point. So she took her frustrations out on the vegetables before her, slicing them with much more force than was needed. It was times like this where she had to try her hardest not to scream, just let her frustrations out that way. No, screams would attract too much attention from the Death Eaters lurking around the manor. She allowed herself a bit of a mental escape, humming a little tune to herself as she worked, hoping that no one would come in and ruin this little bit of free time she had been given.