Blake Zepline
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- Wand
- Bloodwood Wand 15 1/4" Essence of Phoenix Ash
It was a quarter past midnight and the moonlight was illuminating the front yard of the Lestrange Household. Blake peeked out over his bedroom window sill, his cloak tied around his neck by the strings, its satin body draped over his crouching back and into a puddle of black on his bedroom floor.
He had locked the bedroom door, and placed his heavy dresser in front to save himself at least a few minutes head start before his mother realised what had happened. Especially considering the noise he would make upon smashing his window, which she had bolted shut for obvious reasons.
Blake wasn't sure what exact measures his mother had taken to prevent him from running away, but he was sure that a simple rock through the window wouldn't do the job. He had decided that his heavy wooden mahogany desk, which wasn't actually his but his grandfather's, would deliver the strongest blow. If it didn't work, well that was something he hadn't necessarily thought of.
Getting up from his crouch, Blake lifted one side of the desk and placed the legs onto the window sill, groaning slightly from the weight. Stupid Ministry. Forbidding underage use of magic. Ridiculous! he complained under his breath. Turning to make sure he had not forgotten something, Blake moved over to bed and dropped a letter that was for his grandparents only. He was going to avoid his mother as much as possible, and even a simple goodbye would be denied of her. She had ruined his life, and for that he was less than willing to forgive. Stepping to his trunk now which was strapped tightly under his Streak which knew was strong enough to support it, he double checked that the leather strap was tightly bound. When he was satisfied with his work, he picked up a small cage and crooned slightly to the snake within as she, whom he had named Isabeau, hissed at him, furious about being trapped in a cage. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly to her, "but I can't bring you with me unless your inside a cage." Blake strapped the cage securely around his torso with a belt, and fastened his cloak around her too so that she wouldn't see anything and die of her fright of flight. "This is it, Isby. Freedom is only minutes away..." And with that last sentence, Blake pushed the desk through the glass, the deafening crash sounding through the room and echoed moments late by a louder boom as the desk broke and splintered on the Lestrange's front porch.
Scrambling over to his Streak as the sound of a slamming door and rushed footsteps could be heard in the hall, Blake quickly mounted his Streak and kicked off, speeding for the open window.
Unfortunately, his trunk all but made it, slamming into the under wall and yanking Blake back. Isabeau hissed frantically from under the cloak, her cage rattling wildly. "sh1t!" Blake yelled, no longer worried about creating noise as he hovered under the window frame, pulling the heavy trunk with one hand as high as possible but without any success.
Just then, a series of pounding erupted from his door as the person on the other side, no doubt his mother, was attempting to kick it door down.
"Jeez," Blake yelped at the sound, panicking as he continued to pull on his trunk.
"BLAKE!" Cloe boomed, "OPEN THIS DOOR NOW! OR SO HELP ME MERLIN I WILL BLAST YOUR ROOM TO OBLIVION!"
But Blake did not answer, he simply continued to tug on the leather strap with only his free hand, as the other was wrapped around his broomstick, a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek.
"BLAKE! I KNOW YOU'RE STILL IN THERE! I CAN HEAR YOU! DAMN IT YOU HAVE TWO SECONDS!" Now the pounding and kicking had stopped, and it seemed his grandparents were awake as the sound of muffled voices sounded through the door.
"Don't yell at him! This is your fault you know, Cloe. Keeping the poor boy grounded and stuffed up in that ro-"
"Mother! Blake is my son, I know what's best for him! Now step back so I can blast-"
"If you lay even one finger on that child, I will disown you at the very least!"
"Father! You dare suggest I would hurt Blake?!"
A short moment of silence passed over before Cloe's voiced was heard again, this time pleading instead of demanding.
"Daddy, make her move! Please! He is getting away as we speak!"
"Oh, and just where would he run away to? New Zealand? What is there that he doesn't have here?"
"HIS FATHER!"
Blake smirked slightly as his second hand let go his broom, she was right, but only by half. There was another reason for returning to New Zealand, and Blake was sure she knew that one too. Now that both hands were free, Blake heaved harder on the trunk until it was above the sill, and leaning forward slightly so his weight could direct the broom forward so the trunk was away from the intervening window frame. Dropping the trunk now, Blake gripped the broom as it rocked unsteadily from the weight of the trunk swinging underneath.
Without waiting to hear his bedroom door blast open, Blake sped away into the night. The smile which had been absent far too long now visible on his face as he looked down at the ring on his finger.
He had locked the bedroom door, and placed his heavy dresser in front to save himself at least a few minutes head start before his mother realised what had happened. Especially considering the noise he would make upon smashing his window, which she had bolted shut for obvious reasons.
Blake wasn't sure what exact measures his mother had taken to prevent him from running away, but he was sure that a simple rock through the window wouldn't do the job. He had decided that his heavy wooden mahogany desk, which wasn't actually his but his grandfather's, would deliver the strongest blow. If it didn't work, well that was something he hadn't necessarily thought of.
Getting up from his crouch, Blake lifted one side of the desk and placed the legs onto the window sill, groaning slightly from the weight. Stupid Ministry. Forbidding underage use of magic. Ridiculous! he complained under his breath. Turning to make sure he had not forgotten something, Blake moved over to bed and dropped a letter that was for his grandparents only. He was going to avoid his mother as much as possible, and even a simple goodbye would be denied of her. She had ruined his life, and for that he was less than willing to forgive. Stepping to his trunk now which was strapped tightly under his Streak which knew was strong enough to support it, he double checked that the leather strap was tightly bound. When he was satisfied with his work, he picked up a small cage and crooned slightly to the snake within as she, whom he had named Isabeau, hissed at him, furious about being trapped in a cage. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly to her, "but I can't bring you with me unless your inside a cage." Blake strapped the cage securely around his torso with a belt, and fastened his cloak around her too so that she wouldn't see anything and die of her fright of flight. "This is it, Isby. Freedom is only minutes away..." And with that last sentence, Blake pushed the desk through the glass, the deafening crash sounding through the room and echoed moments late by a louder boom as the desk broke and splintered on the Lestrange's front porch.
Scrambling over to his Streak as the sound of a slamming door and rushed footsteps could be heard in the hall, Blake quickly mounted his Streak and kicked off, speeding for the open window.
Unfortunately, his trunk all but made it, slamming into the under wall and yanking Blake back. Isabeau hissed frantically from under the cloak, her cage rattling wildly. "sh1t!" Blake yelled, no longer worried about creating noise as he hovered under the window frame, pulling the heavy trunk with one hand as high as possible but without any success.
Just then, a series of pounding erupted from his door as the person on the other side, no doubt his mother, was attempting to kick it door down.
"Jeez," Blake yelped at the sound, panicking as he continued to pull on his trunk.
"BLAKE!" Cloe boomed, "OPEN THIS DOOR NOW! OR SO HELP ME MERLIN I WILL BLAST YOUR ROOM TO OBLIVION!"
But Blake did not answer, he simply continued to tug on the leather strap with only his free hand, as the other was wrapped around his broomstick, a bead of sweat trickling down his cheek.
"BLAKE! I KNOW YOU'RE STILL IN THERE! I CAN HEAR YOU! DAMN IT YOU HAVE TWO SECONDS!" Now the pounding and kicking had stopped, and it seemed his grandparents were awake as the sound of muffled voices sounded through the door.
"Don't yell at him! This is your fault you know, Cloe. Keeping the poor boy grounded and stuffed up in that ro-"
"Mother! Blake is my son, I know what's best for him! Now step back so I can blast-"
"If you lay even one finger on that child, I will disown you at the very least!"
"Father! You dare suggest I would hurt Blake?!"
A short moment of silence passed over before Cloe's voiced was heard again, this time pleading instead of demanding.
"Daddy, make her move! Please! He is getting away as we speak!"
"Oh, and just where would he run away to? New Zealand? What is there that he doesn't have here?"
"HIS FATHER!"
Blake smirked slightly as his second hand let go his broom, she was right, but only by half. There was another reason for returning to New Zealand, and Blake was sure she knew that one too. Now that both hands were free, Blake heaved harder on the trunk until it was above the sill, and leaning forward slightly so his weight could direct the broom forward so the trunk was away from the intervening window frame. Dropping the trunk now, Blake gripped the broom as it rocked unsteadily from the weight of the trunk swinging underneath.
Without waiting to hear his bedroom door blast open, Blake sped away into the night. The smile which had been absent far too long now visible on his face as he looked down at the ring on his finger.