Fleeting Sanity
A/N: Just some small drabbles I wrote ages ago in a notebook. I just found them and thought I'd post them on here, because heck, why not?
oOo
Sirius Black I
He speaks and thousands of butterflies flies out of his mouth, and joins the millions of fishes which flies in the air, mocking and hunting the birds which swims in the seas.
And he knows, oh goodness he knows! - That it is all so incredible, oh so incredible.
So beautifully, incredibly unfair and terrible.
And he is aware, more aware than anyone else, that he has lost his mind.
Now his mind flies with the fishes and the butterflies and hunts and mocks the swimming birds in the oceans and lakes of the world.
And he smiles and he laughs as they lock him up.
Sirius Black has never ever been, will never ever be, a prisoner. For he was, is and always will be a free man.
Because while his body is imprisoned, his mind flies with the fishes and the butterflies and he is free.
oOo
Ginny Weasley
Harry sits by the grave in front of him, staring at the tombstone as he places red roses on the grave, before proceeding to the next one, then the next.
And he is alone, and They are gone. They were stolen in the middle of the night.
He heard a sound that night and had gotten up from the bed and found her, his wife staring at his children's beds, hands covered in blood so much redder than her hair.
"The butterflies took them."
And they were all stained in red.
Now they were gone, and Ginny was painting red butterflies. Over and over. Again and again.
"The butterflies took them."
oOo
Frank Longbottom
He smiles at the multitude of fishes which swims by him. They sing such beautifully serene lullabies for him, and sometimes he wishes the butterfly lady in the bed next to his could hear them as well.
Most of the time though he is glad he is the only one that hears them sing, for then they are truly his fishes, and his alone. He doesn't have to share them with anyone.
Beautifully coloured fishes, red ones, green ones, yellow ones and blue ones. And he loves them more than anything, his beautiful singing fishes.
Sometimes, they remind him of something from long ago. But then, he forgets.
oOo
Alice Longbottom
Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of butterflies escapes his mouth as he speaks.
And thousands upon thousands upon thousands of butterflies turns into candy wrapping paper, for they are as beautiful and special and colourful as the butterflies. And so she wants to thank the sweet young boy who brings her mind back.
Candy wrapper by candy wrapper.
oOo
Sirius Black II
Sometimes, when the dementors aren't nearby, Sirius is bored in his lonely cell, and then he draws such beautiful butterflies on the walls of his prison.
All of the butterflies are red.
Often, Sirius wishes he could bleed gold. For if could, he would be able to draw gold lions playing with the red butterflies. It'd be like home.
Maybe if he did draw golden lions, Sirius would get his mind back, and his floors and walls wouldn't be stained by so many little red butterflies.
So when he leaves Azkaban, Sirius draws pretty pictures of golden lions playing with red butterflies.
The butterflies that stole Sirius' mind doesn't return and Sirius weeps.
Where did his life go?