A/N My apologies ahead of time for the shortness of the first two, and potentially later, chapters; I often dream in drabbles, and sometimes I don't believe that they should be extended.
A note on the world: Voldemort doesn't exist. Tom Riddle may or may not (he hasn't come up in my imaginings yet), but probably not. However, dark wizards do exist - I believe that there will always be people who choose cruelty, evil, and a blunt and quick ascent to power over kindness and hard work. The wizarding society created by JKR seems to make this choice more acceptable by more people than, say, choosing to work for the mob is in my Muggle society (maybe it IS acceptable in some places, in which case this may be more applicable than I thought).
The T rating is for language in this chapter, and potentially in later chapters as the characters get older. There will also be one scene with fairly violent themes, but I don't think it will be graphic enough to go over T.
I would love to improve my writing, so if as you read, you find yourself wishing I was better at a particular aspect, please let me know! Also, if I typo or misuse words, please tell me so that I can fix it for future readers.
Disclaimer: I own none of the recognizable characters/places in this or any other chapter published by me on FanFiction. They belong to JK Rowling, Warner Bros, and potentially others who have inspired me without my noticing.
An End
Running…no, she was skipping…and running, at once, the way she could only in dreams. But even knowing it was a dream didn't make it any less beautiful. She was in the sparse wood behind the house. Running. Running so gracefully that no one could fail to notice the beauty of the motion. Running so fast that no one could catch her –
"Bloody piece of shit!" Elles froze out of her dream as the one vase in the house crashed on the wall dividing the bedroom from the kitchen. She hadn't so much as fluttered an eyelid since she woke, but her brother reached across her to hold her still regardless, the motion so smooth as to seem subconscious.
"I'm the shit?" Elles was listening, hard, for the words she knew were coming. "I'm the shit? You fucking bitch, I'm the only one in this bloody house that does any-" The sound of the vase smashing came again, a little further towards the other bedroom this time. Elles sighed quietly; her mum had cast the spells to fix and hurl the vase nonverbally today. It was time to leave.
"You fucking freak, you think you can…"
"Come on," Sev whispered, rolling off the edge of the mattress and pulling her up behind him. The pair climbed onto the rocking chair that slumped rather than rocked, and slipped through the window frame, Sev lifting Elles carefully before him. She pushed off the edges of the walls and landed with a soft thump. Sev pulled himself through and jumped down behind her, checking first her hands, then his own, for any cuts from the jagged remnants of glass still lining the frames.
Elles turned away from the house and walked, without any rush. The only person who would notice her absence was walking beside her, holding her hand gently.