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 (-closed-) TW - all kinds

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Joshua Murray
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Birthday : 1996-11-25
Join date : 2017-07-26

PostSubject: (-closed-) TW - all kinds   Tue Aug 29, 2017 8:37 pm

13 August 2013

The summer before Seventh Year.


186 days.

4,464 hours.

4,465, Josh corrected in his head as his pocket watch struck 8 o'clock on the sunny evening of the 13 August. The Murray Manor cast a large shadow across the grounds to the East of the building, shrouding the Murray heir in shadows as he moved from the gardens back towards his father's study.

The lawn was strewn in a display of power of the Murray household that evening, the summer party that his parents had put on in his honour. Leyton and Eleanor Murray had, once again, placed their differences aside in the show of power that came all too naturally to the pair, but was completely unnecessary in every manner of the word. Joshua had not found the idea of a party at all enthralling, instead the Murray heir had sat through the ordeal silently, his features devoid of emotion.

Girls came forth, girls left when they got no where.

The Murray heir said nothing, and gave no one his attention.

His eyes had been trained to the flowers just to the left of the marquee. The flowers had bloomed in the ashes that had been left only a few months ago. The earth that had been turned over still charred from the fit of anger that had flooded through the Slytherin's body in the moment.

The flowers had moved Josh's jaw in to a locked position, the tension in his jaw growing infinitely more noticeable as time wore on. Fewer guests tried their luck with speaking with the Murray heir, until finally Josh was left to himself.

No one had openly acknowledged Josh's silent departure from the party, his eyes cold as he moved back to the manor.

The staff had moved from his path upon seeing Joshua's frame entering the building, the stark reminder of how anyone who got in his way ended up in an early grave was still quite fresh from the 8 February. Of that much, Josh had not let any of them forget.

With the manor empty, except from the occasional member of staff who flitted out of sight at the fall of Josh's footsteps, the heir found his way to his father's study without any one questioning him. The celebrations of his appointment of Head Boy -- which had only come today, even though the party had been arranged for weeks -- continued on outside, as suitor after suitor tried to impress his parents.

Not that it would matter.

His father's seal sat upon his desk, and almost fitting the situation, a roll of parchment sat out on the desk too. Joshua moved to the eat, and took up his father's quill without a second thought. His flowing handwriting quickly, yet neatly wrote out the instructions needed for his request to be fulfilled.

Nobody had seen or heard from Azalea Harrington -- to public knowledge -- for one hundred and eighty six days now.

Azalea Harrington had not returned to school after he had taken her out for the Valentine's evening he had set up for her.

Azalea Harrington had not returned his carefully written letters.

Joshua did not take this lightly, his Azalea would never treat him like that. His Azalea would never have treated anyone in that manner. For, his Azalea, was a woman who showed the utmost care and appreciation for everyone.

Which meant her silence could only be based on a serious problem.

Joshua's words were written to the top private investigator in the world. A country, or even a continent had not been good enough for Josh when he'd done his research on the topic, he had to have the best for his Azalea, and he'd finally found the woman to do the job.

The promise of fees -- no matter how high -- to be paid to the witch, together with the down payment to remove the witch from her own current financial difficulties was denoted in the letter. More money would follow with the more information that could be found.

Everything Josh knew of the witch was included within the letter, from the photo-like portrait Joshua had made of the witch, to the copious amounts of pictures he'd taken of her over the years, the details of how her hair looked in different lights, how it fell just above halfway down her back. He wrote of how her eyes were a rich dark brown that lit up in some of the most unusual ways dependent on her mood. Everything that the Murray heir could muster from his memory he wrote down.

The acceptance of the appointment had come shortly after his letter from Hogwarts that morning, overshadowing the news of his appointment as Head Boy.

It was almost ironic, Joshua had thought to himself as he read through the letter that denoted how Ms. Porter would take his case. The extra resources -- childishly labelled with costs -- that Ms. Porter needed were listed for the Murray heir. The first million dollars that she would need was signed off by the heir before he sealed it.

An owl had taken it not moments later, and Joshua pulled another piece of parchment towards himself.

My Azalea,

Today is your twentieth birthday. I, unlike so many others, have not forgotten this. I'm writing you again in the hope you will reply this time.

Where are you, my Azalea?

It's okay, though, I will find you. No matter the sacrifice. You're somewhere.

I can feel it.

Yours,

Josh Murray


The second letter followed out of the window shortly after the first one had. Alone in his father's office, Joshua removed his pocket watch once more.

4,466.

The hours did not matter, not in truth, for every time Joshua looked down in to his pocket watch, it was not the clock's face that he was looking down at. Not the hands that denoted the time that had passed since he'd seen his most precious flower's face.

It was simply her face looking back up at him. Smiling back at him. Reminding him that she was still alive, fighting, and waiting.

Waiting, for him.

___________________________________________

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Joshua Murray
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PostSubject: Re: (-closed-) TW - all kinds   Wed Sep 20, 2017 7:00 pm

14 July 2014
The Summer After Seventh Year

522 days.

The, now, former Head Boy of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry sat towards the back of the train as the British countryside flashed past his carriage with little and less consideration. Those that had joined him in the compartment sat chattering around Josh, but he had not contributed to the idle chat for hours now. -Instead, his attention was focused on the letter he'd received that morning.

News, but stale news.

It had been a month since the search had been expanded -- Azalea Harrington was not in the United States. Having to tell Ms. Porter to look further afield, in to Canada, had not been something Josh was impressed with. The apologetic letter that had come back was one that he'd discarded almost at once, instead waiting for the next correspondence to come his way.

Such a letter had come that morning, denoting that progress had been made.

Progress that had been short lived at best.

A trace of Azalea Harrington had been found in Canda, Ms. Porter had written. But, the trace of his Azalea had gone quite cold. Close, he had been so close, but the trail was not one that could be followed. This had left Josh most displeased the morning he was to leave the Hogwarts castle.

Ms. Porter had been told as much, as well, when Josh had replied saying that the news was not satisfactory. How could the trace simply disappear? It was not possible.

I will find you, my Azalea...


13 August 2014

551 days.

Josh sat in the withdrawing room with the correspondence of the whole house before him. Leyton Murray had not been tending to the affairs of the house appropriately. Since arriving home, Josh had been intercepting the post for the house and dealing with it appropriately whilst his father continued with the potioneering project he was working on.

His mother had been away since he'd been home, with some Pureblood function or another that Josh hadn't cared enough to listen to. The only part he'd take on board would be that Eleanor Murray would not be home until September.

The morning on the 13 August the Murray Manor had been quiet, just how Josh liked it.

His Azalea deserved his full attention that day.

Today was his Azalea's twenty first birthday. A milestone that should have been celebrated with as much extravagance and surprises as the Murray vault could afford. There was still no trail, though, and Joshua was running out of patience as he wrote the one hundredth letter to his most precious flower.

***

The handwriting of the letter had shook for perhaps one line, maybe two. The anger flushed through Josh's body. The audacity of his father to have chosen today to raise the question of the Murray funds being diverted to the U.S. -- the funds were not bringing in a return that his father could see, and thus awareness to the situation had been brought to the head of the Murray house. As he hadn't done it, Leyton had brought the problem to his son, who would not give his father any information on the subject.

Leyton had grown frustrated.

Josh had let him, with a silence that would not give anything away.

Leyton had not left it.

***

The pool of blood was sure to leave a stain in the perfectly polished wooden floor in the study, but it was inconsequential.

The last couple of breaths had been ragged, as if sucking on air would make any difference to the ultimate outcome. But it was inconsequential.

The Ministry would know the moment they arrived at the property that the body on the floor was not one hit by a rabble of halfwits looking for equality in the world, but it was… inconsequential.

Standing over the man who may have inspired many people in the world, Josh could only look down with distaste. For all the talent that Layton Murray possessed, he was an easy disposal, as long as you stayed away from the subtleties in life, it had been easy. Josh had known from the outset that an undetectable poison would not be the answer to getting rid of his father, nor would anything that could be ingested work.

Josh’s job had been made so much easier with the emergence of panic that had spread from the media after an attack on the Pureblood world. With the world looking for the next attack, it had been much too easy.

It didn’t much matter, for his father’s body had lain at his feet for longer than necessary, draining itself of blood as eyes looked up to him, accusing him of something that had never been said. Josh’s eyes had simply looked back with the lack of emotion that always followed him. Emotions had died a very long time ago with Josh, thanks to the man that now lay dead, or perhaps his mother, Josh blamed neither of them but the emotion no longer existed.

The envelope opener was in Josh’s hand, a drop of red carefully perched on the top, waiting to be released to add to the pool on the floor. A multitude wounds covered what was the head of the Murray household, some slashes, some puncture wounds. But every one of them was purposeful. Opening a main artery, puncturing an important organ, each of the wounds had a purpose.

Taking out his wand, Josh produced a flame hot enough to melt the metal, watching as the droplets fell to the skin of his father’s face. A soft hiss as it burned the flesh rose in the room, but Josh didn’t flinch. It continued for a few moments, until the metal was gone instead replaced with the smell of burned flesh. Metal covered what had once been the man's face, ruining the image that his father had worked so hard to make.

Josh was not a man anyone should push, but Leyton Murray had never known his son, in truth, and the cost had been his downfall.

A statement to all, the papers would read the next morning. Warning of the horrors of The Basilisks. Filling minds with lies in the hope of keeping order.

So long as nothing got in the way of him getting his Azalea back, Josh would stop at nothing to get her back safely.

***

My Azalea,

Today is your twenty first birthday. I'm getting closer to finding you.

Don't give up hope yet, my Azalea.

Yours,

Joshua Murray


Josh sat back in his chair, his persona terribly calm considering the brutality of the murder in the room next door. As he'd promised a year ago to this day, no matter the sacrifice, he would find his Azalea.

Find her, and keep her from harm in the world.

___________________________________________

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