A/N: So, I added divisions between the flashbacks. I took out a few of the 'lies', but I kept them. They're there for emphasis. xP
The moon cast an unearthly glow over the wheat fields, sending their golden hue to shift to a faint silver between the pure light and light dew. The girl with the velvet witches' hat stood amongst the plants, hidden from view by their height and how thick they were; not that she was tall herself. Even with the height of her peaked hat, she couldn't see above the corn rows which bordered where she stood.
Her feet stepped conscientiously, carefully, deliberately, through the wheat. The tall shoots rustled against each other with her soft disturbance, and finally she was free from their grasp. Out in the walkway between the two fields she stood, staring ahead at the dirt, a path to no where. How depressingly it seemed all paths led to no where, and when you thought about it, everywhere was no where, and no where was everywhere. There was nothing to differentiate between.
It was her own world she had run away from, her own world she no longer wanted to be a part of. Her ignorance had sheltered her from the truth, but with age came her ability to look beneath the surface. She looked beneath the table cloth, under the table, and it was a nasty sight. Everything she had ever loved was a mask; a mere facade covering the ugly ambitions. Everyone lied, and no one lived a truth. Living was a lie amongst her own, or that was what it had become.
There are ways to hide the trace. That was what he had told her. So long ago on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, his Gryffindor scarf wrapped tight about his neck as if he were perpetually cold. This day wasn't all too frigid for late January, and though no student went without their scarves, most were hung loosely about their necks. She had looked down at that, thinking too deeply, still trying to argue with herself that he was wrong, that she hadn't been thinking, that everything was just alright. Deep down, she knew, it was all a lie. A lie she had been telling herself for much too long.
So she had settled for staring at the thin green and silver stripe that adorned the end of the sleeve of her sweater, then to her green gloves. "Even if I could get away from here, I'd never figure it out. Not without magic, and then it would be too late," she countered, unable to keep a sneer from her voice. A sneer which was derived from the infamous Slytherin influence. Why was she evenspeaking to this bloody Gryffindor? Blood traitor on top of it all.
"So don't use magic. Not until you are sure you're safe. Are we doing this or not?" he asked, and she saw the look in his eye. The daring edge which surprised her, though she supposed it shouldn't have. Gryffindors had their bravery. They were still, well, good."Ellie?"
She looked up, her gaze meeting his, hardened and steely. "Of course we are. The mudblood loving Gryffie isn't afraid to break some rules, then?" Ellie mocked, the derogatory term slipping from her lips as easily as a breath of air, and it nauseated her.
"Don't say that," he hissed at her, his eyes flashing threateningly. "I'd sell you out before you even had a chance to take a breath if I ever heard it from your mouth again."
"Likewise, I'm sure," she responded bitterly. "Don't threaten a Slytherin, Aidan, we're better at it." Her one eyebrow was arched, and her arms were crossed over her chest. The adrenaline was pounding through her legs, making them shake. It was infinitesimal enough; hopefully he wouldn't see.
"Sorry, did I offend you?" he asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. He brushed his dark hair away from his eyes, his dark gray eyes which made his lineage evident. It was Malfoy that was there, wasn't it? In every other aspect, however, he seemed to fall into his distant relatives, the Blacks. With a few exceptions, which were derived from his muggle father. She wanted to apologize for a moment, relapse into her childhood ways. But that was no longer a part of her nature any more than crying to her mother or asking for parental advice.
"Forget it," she replied, but her voice was a little too forceful, and it seemed a little too strangled. Aidan seemed to pick up on it, instantly; not because it was in his nature, but because it was her. His gaze at her softened for an instant as she looked away, but the second she turned back it reverted to how it was before. Hard and cold.
"We need a plan," was all he said.
"I'm good at those."
"I know."
Not good enough, evidently, she thought to herself bitterly, struggling to bring herself back to the here and now. Her eyes darkened. She had a goal, and she needn't forget that. There were people for her to find.
Oh, but where; the hopeless question which reverberated through her head, causing her to become dizzy and fueling her confusion like when lighter fluid meets a match. So she had a place to go, but didn't know where to go, and it sent her forward, through the woods. Deep in the dark of a dense thicket, she pulled the hat from her head, shaking out her auburn hair, and casting it aside. Her long dark cloak had been thrown away already...before she left. Before she had changed into muggle attire and left her world for what might have been for good.
Eyelids blinked open, lifting the wall which separated pupil and iris from the outside world. It was all too bright at first, light blue sky, minimal clouds, shining sun. It was early spring, but uncharacteristically warm, and the humid air caught in her throat, serving to be very much strangling. Ellie sat up and sighed, it proved to be much better, so much easier to breathe. It was a curb on the side of the road on which she sat, where she had fallen asleep the night previously. In front of her an aged pickup truck rattled past, rusty and looking every bit the death trap it probably was.
Though there was, in fact, a cement curb, the road was not paved, and every car which rolled past sent up a choking cloud of dust. With every one, the young witch began to find she utterly abhorred motor vehicles.
"I said, are you a'ight?" she heard the unfamiliar but unmistakable Western sort of American accent from behind her. It was not all too unkind, but she had to think again. Why, oh why, did the portkey have to lead to the middle of nowhere? To the middle of the agricultural, empty U.S.A?!
"Oh, um, fine," she finally muttered, and was not so slow minded to think that arrogance would get her anywhere. She had found out otherwise all too many times.
"You're not from around her', are you?" the voice responded, and she was finally forced to turn around. It was a taller woman, and her face showed her age, though it was evident she did not want it to. It was forced into non-expression from too many Botox injections, something Ellie was only aware of from the jokes the other Hogwarts students made about it. The muggles and their silly anti-aging serums...
Though it was not at all what she expected. Her accent fit, but the way she looked seemed more cheap Beverly Hills. Her hair was very large, and there was no other real description for it. Her face was adorned with make up- not badly applied, merely too much. It gave her a fake look to her, too plastic, too materialistic. Her expression beneath it, however, is what swayed Ellie. Her clothing was Versace, made apparent to the witch only because the designer was emblazoned across the woman's chest. It was a simple t-shirt, jeans, and cow boots. All of which were new and clean looking.
"No," Ellie responded, her nerve finding its way back into her mind. For that she was greatful, "I'm not." Her chin was taken gently in the woman's thumb and forefinger, and it brought about an overwhelming intake of her already strong perfume. God damn, she thought to herself, Moderation, woman, moderation.
"Do you need a place to stay?" she asked, her voice still kind, and Ellie was put off. Trusting was not something that came easily to her, but she had to admit, a nice rest could be nice. Stupid, stupid, Ellie, her mind taunted, Everyone is only out for themselves. Think of what a story it would make. She 'takes you in'. Then calls the authorities, and tells her friends she saved you from yourself.
"No, I just wandered a bit, and...," she let her voice drift off, and even she had to admit it was a lame lie. It was shocking, as she usually was a pretty smooth and convincing liar. The woman's eyebrows went up.
"I'm sorry," she said, "I must've been so rude. I'm Karen. Very well known 'round here, and I wouldn't mind at all if you stopped by my home, had a cup of tea. I doubt you wandered all the way from England, that's righ', isn't it? But I'm not asking questions. Just wondering if you simply need a place to stay."
"Yes, England is correct. And my name is Ellie Wells," she responded, no need to lie about her name.
"That'sfabulous," she responded, walking and motioning for Ellie to follow. "My family had some friends in England. Very important figures, I s'pose. Used to visit them as a girl. Beautiful country."
"Some parts," Ellie agreed, but not without compensation. Oh hell, what did she get herself into? What a conundrum. And it didn't seem like this Karen would take 'No' very easily.
A/N: So review, please. I perpetually give up writing fanfiction when I don't get reviews, but I would really like to continue this one.
