#hope lestrange

You see, Hope had been for her mother exactly what her name suggested. A beacon of light in the darkness. The darkness was seemingly impenetrable and she was a lamp to lead the way. When her father joined her mother moments after her birth, things all fell together.

"Fell" is a very accurate term.

Apparently, in her infancy the house was silent as ice and death and her parents hardly spoke to one another. But then something miraculous happened. They did. Over her.

Growing up, she'd had her parents' attitude and nature for trouble all while somehow bringing peace. She was a walking paradox. She was the cure for herself.

She was a lady, but nobody said a lady couldn't don't some ass-kicking or get down to business. There was something eerily familiar about her that no one could place. An old soul, of sorts, but at the same time the vibrancy of her youth. She was wise beyond her years but she could stand up for herself. And yeah, she could knock back a drink every once in awhile. Her parents didn't encourage it, but they didn't say a word when she came home with alcohol on her breath. To her, at least.

She was punished when she stayed out all night without a word. If she said she would be out past curfew and who she would be with, they could care less. They knew where it mattered because her dad had had strict upbringings and her mother...well, Grandpapa was a different story. But softer than the Lestranges, for certain.

Yes, she had Slytherin and pure blood running through her veins but she was a Gryffindor. Hardly a perfect one. Sometimes she was certain she could have ended up in Slytherin, because the Gryffindors were hardly accepting of her, but at the least, Ravenclaw. They were all martyrdom and self-righteousness and pride and she wanted them to shut the hell up because she knew you had a big dick so you don't need to go boosting your ego more. (Don't ask how she knew that.)