This takes place in the trio's seventh year, but they're hardly in it. This is this girl's first year.
Disclaimer: I don't own Hogwarts.
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ONE
My eyes snapped open and I found my heart beating fast in my neck. I was sweaty, and my senses were going crazy. I breathed hard.
"Not now" I thought angrily, in dismay. "Why tonight?"
My head ached.
"Mom" I half whispered, half yelled into the night. No answer.
"Damn." I whispered, and stomped off to the bathoom by myself.
I studied my face in the mirror. It was pale, and pasty. My light brown hair was sweaty and hung around my face in limp threads. My green eyes were wide open and alert, and compared to the rest of my face, my mouth was bright red.
I put some lip gloss onto my already overly greasy mouth, for something to do. My heart slowed, and I was starting to calm down a little, but not much. Wide eyed, I paced around the bathroom, repetedly stubbing my toe on the toilet, but not noticing. All hope of getting back to sleep was gone now. When I got one of my nightmares, headaces, or panic attacks, I stayed awake with my wide eyes staring at the cieling for
hours at a time.
"I guess I could read or something" I thought, as I made my way down the hall to my bedroom. "But it's only one a.m. I'll be exaughsted
in the morning."
My room glowed with the lights from my glow in the dark watch, the numerals on my clock, and my butterfly shaped nightlight. I was way too old for that nightlight. But when you wake up scared as often as I do, it's comforting to have.
My butterflies hung from the cileling and walls, perched on my shelves, balanced on my doors and hangers and boxes.
My room's done in pale sky blue, and a few years back, mom painted the baseboards and the bottom of the walls with grass designs and painted flowers and stuff growing from it. I did the clouds that covered the walls. Then we hung my butterflies.
I've been collecting butterflies since I was eleven. I just turned eleven recently, but I feel about twenty. I grew up fast.
I live with my mom. She's pretty awsome. She went to hogwarts. That's a school for magic people. She says my dad went too, but i've never met him. He left before I was born.
Mom says i'll go too. I'll get my letter any day now, most likeley. I think she already has it, but wants to save it for the right time. In fact, I kNOW she has it, but I found it in her closet the other day. I went down town, (we live in London.) And bought all my stuff myself. tommorrow, is the first of September. i think mom was gonna take me to get my stuff and then see me off, but now we can spend that time together.
Mom and I live like muggles, or, non-magic people. I'm pretty excited about going, I guess, but i'll have to leave behind my butterflies. I'll only be able to bring one or two, and I have HUNDREDS of favorites. Especially my sdtuffed one, Potato.
I pulled the stuffed, faded, resewn pink butterfly from under the covers and pulled it up to me, cuddling it tightly. I'm definetley bringing Potato to Hogwarts.
"Potato, why do you think I get these headacheds and get scared so often?" I whispered. Potato looked at me with his glass bead eyes and said nothing. As usual. I pretended he was saying :
"Oh, I don't know, Zoe. Maybe you're just special." and smiled. When I did that, potato talks to me in his own way. The easiest way to explain it is to say that I'm pretending it, but it's something different that makes him talk. You know what I mean.
"Zoe" Potato whispered in his own special way. "Are we taking anyone else to Hogwarts.?"
"Probaby Zacharias, and maybe Sunflower." I whispered back. Zacharias hung suspended from my cieling, and Sumflower was a ceramic butterfly sitting in porcelain sunflowers.
"What about Tara?" He whispered. "Are we bringing her?"
I thought of the little blue butterfly that was designed to hang on a nail in the wall, but was usually kept on my pillow during the day, and the floor at night. She's about the same size as Potato, maybe about twelve inches across, and nine down. She's made of blue gossamar, glossy and transcluent.
"I'm not sure." I whispered. It's a tough desision. Maybe if I leave Sunflower behind, she's really too delicate to bring anyway."
"So, is that a yes?"
"Ummm..oh, okay, why not? any particualr reason you wanted her to come?"
"Ummm...no, not really. She's just nice."
"Oh, okay. well, fine then. we'll bring Tara."
"Zoe, lets pack now!"
"Why?"
"Because you can't sleep anyway, and, um, you know, stuff!"
"Oh, okay." I rolled out of bed.
I pulled out my brown leather suitcase, and opened it up.
"Let's see..."
I filled it with my wizard's robes and hat, two t-shirts, two pairs of shorts, two pairs of jeans, one baseball cap, underwear, and my winter jacket, mittens, and scarf.
"Okay, that's about all you need for clothes." Potato remarked. "What about books?"
"Duh." I said. I could never live without my books.
On top of the clothes, I put all my school supplies, and my other books.
"Personal items?"
I put in all my photo albums, my camera, my framed picture of mom and me, my poster of butterflies that says "Fly Free" in whimsical letters, and my poetry journal.
"Butterflies."
I put in Tara, Zacharias, and after a bit of thought, Bitsy, the green plastic butterfly with pink spots on the wings.
Then I put in my backpack, pens pencils and ink, paper, toothbrush, hairbrush, shampoo, conditioner, washcloth with the embroidered butterflies, and my keychain. ( A Purple butterfly with yellow stripes named Jonas.)
Then I put in the small, shalow, carboard box, (I think it used to hold a christmas angel) and then took it out again.
"Think I should take this?" I asked Potato, quietly.
"Why not?" said Potato. I opened the box.
Inside, pinned to the cardboard with straight pins, were about eighteen real butterflies. They had all been dead when I'd found them. I'd never kill a butterfly.
There were three Swallowtails, seven little misilanious ones, two Zebras, three gossamer wings, two Brush-foots, and one Monarch that I found on a holiday to California.
The Monarch was my favorite. He was so orange and pretty...he made me feeel safe, even when I had one of my inexplainble fear attacks.
"Take them." Potato said quietly. "You'll find more there, I'm sure."
Disclaimer: I don't own Hogwarts.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ONE
My eyes snapped open and I found my heart beating fast in my neck. I was sweaty, and my senses were going crazy. I breathed hard.
"Not now" I thought angrily, in dismay. "Why tonight?"
My head ached.
"Mom" I half whispered, half yelled into the night. No answer.
"Damn." I whispered, and stomped off to the bathoom by myself.
I studied my face in the mirror. It was pale, and pasty. My light brown hair was sweaty and hung around my face in limp threads. My green eyes were wide open and alert, and compared to the rest of my face, my mouth was bright red.
I put some lip gloss onto my already overly greasy mouth, for something to do. My heart slowed, and I was starting to calm down a little, but not much. Wide eyed, I paced around the bathroom, repetedly stubbing my toe on the toilet, but not noticing. All hope of getting back to sleep was gone now. When I got one of my nightmares, headaces, or panic attacks, I stayed awake with my wide eyes staring at the cieling for
hours at a time.
"I guess I could read or something" I thought, as I made my way down the hall to my bedroom. "But it's only one a.m. I'll be exaughsted
in the morning."
My room glowed with the lights from my glow in the dark watch, the numerals on my clock, and my butterfly shaped nightlight. I was way too old for that nightlight. But when you wake up scared as often as I do, it's comforting to have.
My butterflies hung from the cileling and walls, perched on my shelves, balanced on my doors and hangers and boxes.
My room's done in pale sky blue, and a few years back, mom painted the baseboards and the bottom of the walls with grass designs and painted flowers and stuff growing from it. I did the clouds that covered the walls. Then we hung my butterflies.
I've been collecting butterflies since I was eleven. I just turned eleven recently, but I feel about twenty. I grew up fast.
I live with my mom. She's pretty awsome. She went to hogwarts. That's a school for magic people. She says my dad went too, but i've never met him. He left before I was born.
Mom says i'll go too. I'll get my letter any day now, most likeley. I think she already has it, but wants to save it for the right time. In fact, I kNOW she has it, but I found it in her closet the other day. I went down town, (we live in London.) And bought all my stuff myself. tommorrow, is the first of September. i think mom was gonna take me to get my stuff and then see me off, but now we can spend that time together.
Mom and I live like muggles, or, non-magic people. I'm pretty excited about going, I guess, but i'll have to leave behind my butterflies. I'll only be able to bring one or two, and I have HUNDREDS of favorites. Especially my sdtuffed one, Potato.
I pulled the stuffed, faded, resewn pink butterfly from under the covers and pulled it up to me, cuddling it tightly. I'm definetley bringing Potato to Hogwarts.
"Potato, why do you think I get these headacheds and get scared so often?" I whispered. Potato looked at me with his glass bead eyes and said nothing. As usual. I pretended he was saying :
"Oh, I don't know, Zoe. Maybe you're just special." and smiled. When I did that, potato talks to me in his own way. The easiest way to explain it is to say that I'm pretending it, but it's something different that makes him talk. You know what I mean.
"Zoe" Potato whispered in his own special way. "Are we taking anyone else to Hogwarts.?"
"Probaby Zacharias, and maybe Sunflower." I whispered back. Zacharias hung suspended from my cieling, and Sumflower was a ceramic butterfly sitting in porcelain sunflowers.
"What about Tara?" He whispered. "Are we bringing her?"
I thought of the little blue butterfly that was designed to hang on a nail in the wall, but was usually kept on my pillow during the day, and the floor at night. She's about the same size as Potato, maybe about twelve inches across, and nine down. She's made of blue gossamar, glossy and transcluent.
"I'm not sure." I whispered. It's a tough desision. Maybe if I leave Sunflower behind, she's really too delicate to bring anyway."
"So, is that a yes?"
"Ummm..oh, okay, why not? any particualr reason you wanted her to come?"
"Ummm...no, not really. She's just nice."
"Oh, okay. well, fine then. we'll bring Tara."
"Zoe, lets pack now!"
"Why?"
"Because you can't sleep anyway, and, um, you know, stuff!"
"Oh, okay." I rolled out of bed.
I pulled out my brown leather suitcase, and opened it up.
"Let's see..."
I filled it with my wizard's robes and hat, two t-shirts, two pairs of shorts, two pairs of jeans, one baseball cap, underwear, and my winter jacket, mittens, and scarf.
"Okay, that's about all you need for clothes." Potato remarked. "What about books?"
"Duh." I said. I could never live without my books.
On top of the clothes, I put all my school supplies, and my other books.
"Personal items?"
I put in all my photo albums, my camera, my framed picture of mom and me, my poster of butterflies that says "Fly Free" in whimsical letters, and my poetry journal.
"Butterflies."
I put in Tara, Zacharias, and after a bit of thought, Bitsy, the green plastic butterfly with pink spots on the wings.
Then I put in my backpack, pens pencils and ink, paper, toothbrush, hairbrush, shampoo, conditioner, washcloth with the embroidered butterflies, and my keychain. ( A Purple butterfly with yellow stripes named Jonas.)
Then I put in the small, shalow, carboard box, (I think it used to hold a christmas angel) and then took it out again.
"Think I should take this?" I asked Potato, quietly.
"Why not?" said Potato. I opened the box.
Inside, pinned to the cardboard with straight pins, were about eighteen real butterflies. They had all been dead when I'd found them. I'd never kill a butterfly.
There were three Swallowtails, seven little misilanious ones, two Zebras, three gossamer wings, two Brush-foots, and one Monarch that I found on a holiday to California.
The Monarch was my favorite. He was so orange and pretty...he made me feeel safe, even when I had one of my inexplainble fear attacks.
"Take them." Potato said quietly. "You'll find more there, I'm sure."