The floodgates of heaven had been opened. This is a muggle saying, signifying a torrential downpoar of rain, most likely created in the days before scientific minds had discovered how rian was truly formed. Now, it is just a metaphor.
A lone boy sat at a window, staring out at the grassy meadows that surrounded his new home, blinking back tears as he recalled that muggle saying. His father had taught it o him ........ and now Arthur Weasley was dead.
A wayward strand of dark red hair falling over his eyes, the young man suddenly reached forward, pushing the window open with a giant heave, and sighing in relief as the chilling raindrops hit his face, their sheer coldness shocking him out of his morbid thoughts. It was also quite helpful with camoflaughing his tears.
Wiping his hand down his face -- starting at his forehead and heading down to his chin -- the teen leaned foward until his elbows were resting o n the windowsill, his hands cupping either side of his chin and most of his cheeks. his eyes were closed, flinching every now and then as raindrops would pelt his closed eyelids.
He ignored the biting pain in his elbows for now, allowing himself tot hink back over the book he had recently finished reading, his mind re-enacting the scene behind his closed eyelids. This, at least, was familiar territory, was safe ground. IT was easier to enact these fantasies within his own mind, than face the reality of what was waitin gfor him, outside of these walls.
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can anybody guess who the boy is? come on people, try and be creative! anybody who can guess it gets a cookie :D let me know if i should continue this or not. i have the next chapter partially written, so just let meknow, alright? later :D allieycosta