Quote:
Originally Posted by
Esme 
"Not life altering really, not when I think back on it. I was already in modelling at the time so I would have grown up in that kind of industry anyway. But it helped me to get a better understanding of what true people are really like and to get me away from my parents more. I guess that it has helped shape me into the person I am today though." he replied shrugging, wondering what it would have been like to just be a normal kid. "What was school like for you? When you were younger I mean, before Hogwarts?"
"Horse riding. I own an Arabian and a Palamino. I thought that if you knew how to ride we could go riding on my birthday or something and if you didn't I could maybe have taught you." Reid wrapped his arm around her more, drawing her in as she began to shiver. "That is if you want to go."
"I know that you wouldn't. That's partly why I like you." Reid replied honestly, smiling at her when she began to describe her reasoning of why she'd never do it.
"It looks like a magical tent doesn't it? Well it isn't actually, it's just a really, really expensive muggle one that's normally used when people go camping in Antarctica. Normally I go camping with my friends and we go to escape all the expectations and luxuries that we normally have. A magical tent would kind of destroy that wouldn't it?" Reid asked her. He knew it was kind of strange for someone who could obviously afford a wizarding tent to not have one but honestly he preferred things to be muggle where they could be. It meant that he could integrate into their society better when he was out with muggles, on the red carpet or filming a movie or photo shoot. Plus some of their ideas were really ingenious.
"Before Hogwarts, I daresay my life wasn't so different from yours. My family is very highly regarded in the muggle world - at least by the people who know them. The Riders aren't famous, but the name often comes up in conversation when talking about prominent families. We're all clever, all relatively ok looking and have enough money to last us a couple lifetimes..." Rachel replied, remembering her times back in the Rider household. It seemed like another lifetime. . . Another her. Technically it WAS another her, but that thought made her feel weird.
"I guess you could say that they are the pure-bloods of the muggle world. Ever since I was born, it's been expected of me to continue the tradition, just like they expected it from my uncle. They got a nasty shock when they realised that I was magic too," she continued, a small smile coming to her lips at the thought. A few years ago any mention of this subject would have reduced her to tears but so much time had passed since then, she could barely work up any sadness at all.
"In school it was no different. I was in all the accelerated classes, striving always to be better, to get higher grades - to be more successful than my parents. But all my achievements, all the honors I got; all credit was given to the Riders - never Rachel Rider. Nothing was ever mine... It was the family's." A small sense of resentment crept into her voice as she talked and her eyes darkened slightly. It wasn't that her life had been miserable - far from it, in fact - but looking back on it now, she really and truly saw that she had never been exactly happy either. From the moment that she could start achieving things, her family lost all affection for her as a daughter and rather saw her as yet another member of the family who will bring pride to the family name.
CHANGE OF SUBJECT!
"You have a palomino? I've ALWAYS wanted to ride one - they're adorable!" she said quickly, grinning from ear to ear at the thought.
"Of course I'll want to - riding with you off into the sun; nothing sounds better!" the sixteen year old said happily, and rested her head on his shoulder. Riding with Reid in America... Of course she'll ride with him - her ancestors were riders, hence the name! If she couldn't ride, who could?
"I can understand that. Sometimes I really do think wizards get the easy way out... I haven't been in a normal tent for years!" Rachel exclaimed, trying to remember the last time she went camping. Oh, no, wait. TECHNICALLY, the last time she had been in a tent, she was in the house. In her bedroom. They had just returned from a camping trip and eight-year-old Rachel had refused to go back to sleeping in a normal bed, in a normal room so her Grandpa - tired of her excessive objections, put up the tent in her room (to this day she still doesn't know how he did it) and she had happily crawled in their and slept for about twelve hours.