burgeon
/ˈbəːdʒ(ə)n/
verb
begin to grow or increase rapidly; flourish.
Lorelei Black didn't need any help thank you very much, she wasn't drowning and she certainly wasn't falling for the redhead who kept reappearing in her life...
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RULES: regulations; Lorelei Black had never been much fond of those — always found them to be a waste of time, and non-existent space — she thinks people do whatever they want anyway, so there's actually no reason for rules. Well, that was Lorelei's opinion, Umbridge's opinion on the other hand did nothing short of frustrate students, and make a special few want to lodge a pencil in her eyes (cough, El and Harley, cough). Lorelei guesses she does have some sort of advantage, Umbridge is really scared of Sirius Black — her father might be coming more handy than she thought he ever could, no offense to him.
Lorelei was sat at the Ravenclaw table, as an owl landed right in her breakfast — hash browns, Lorelei sighed hopelessly as the owl gave her a look — she thought it was one that looked similar to an apology, but then again — she doesn't know owls, "It's ok, I wasn't going to eat them anyway" she pet the brown owl lightly, handing it a few crumbs of the hash browns that it happily fed on before flying away.
Lorelei looked at the letter, it was from her mum, an involuntary smile made its way on her face — she was finally getting letters from one of her parents.
"Hem hem" Lorelei heard the familiar sound from behind her, and she almost groaned with annoyance, the DADA teacher purposely seemed to find ways to make her life miserable, and she was not having it, so she turned around — passing her a smile, it was sarcastic, of course.
"Yes?" Lorelei raised her eyebrows.
"Ms Black, I'm sure by now you must be painfully aware of the fact that your father is a mass murderer" Umbridge said, "I feel, as if it is in everyone's best interest that I read that letter, and make sure that it's not something that can of any harm to Hogwarts"
Lorelei was sure her blood was boiling in her veins, "Right, because why wouldn't an accused murderer — who got put in Azkaban without a trail to prove him guilty not spend around fifteen minutes writing me a letter?"
"So, you get what I mean" Umbridge smiled at Lorelei, and it was a smile that made her so uneasy that she wanted to puke out whatever hash browns she had — if she was going to do it, she would do it on her shoes.
