The Deep Eynde
Rating: Guess I'll go with R
Disclaimer: Guess what, I don't own them!
Summary: I wish I knew. Basically, girl gets thrown into the harry potter
world, when Narcissa is in school (how could I resist)
AN: Sorry for the awful stupid cliffhanger, I'm hoping to get the other
half of this first part up soon. This story has way more to do with me than
the Harry Potter world, but to whoever happens to stumble upon it, Enjoy!
Sometimes, the irony of the world is too great for me to bear. Swooping down on me in eternal completion-the replica of an etching carved in wood, perhaps. No, not wood, wood is human and the moist, pungent smell emanates from it all the same. Wood fades, withers away. Metal then. Or even better, plastic. In a bright, primary color with its gently rounded childproof corners.yes, plastic is perfect. You can't get more inhuman or eternal than something like Tupperware. A Tupperware eagle careening down at me, the eagle with pinion feathers like carefully honed knives and the beak curved upwards in a mocking smile. The cosmic messenger forever ready to land and inform me that once again the joke is on me. Other people, this doesn't happen enough to warrant them getting their own personalized omen of doom. I guess I could say that I'm just special that way, take comfort in the fact that not everyone can understand the nature of their misfortune as well as I do. When the eagle arrived, the events that ensued while damaging, unfortunate and never pleasant, they had also never been life threatening, so when I looked up one day and realized that the oh-so-great immortal bird had extricated itself from its usual stationary plunge and was barreling down straight for my head, I was deeply annoyed, nervous, anxious, and yes- I'll admit there was a little fear. This part was always painful. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what would happen next. Thus it happened that the last image I had in my head before I passed out was an enveloping black darkness that suddenly leaped out and ruthlessly smothered me until I didn't know even that. I floated in the blackness aware of.something. A strange discomfort, a nagging feeling that this was not right. Indeed, these were rather unusual circumstances I found myself in. The proper procedures for this thing usually went. Feeling of foreboding. The hawk swooping down on me. Sensation of dizziness and nausea. Wait for the shit to fall. Nowhere was this darkness, this lostness included in the instructions. Unless this was something different altogether? The smell of lavender. That was the first thing I noticed as I came to myself. The second was my name. "Kristen, wake up, wake up!" was coming from right next to me. I opened my eyes and just stared. Shit, was all that I could think, much like pilots whose planes, in spite of all their knowledge and best efforts were still crashing unerringly to a gloomy grave in the ocean, or perhaps a more arid and abrupt hit to the ground. Was I hallucinating? I thought I had hallucinated the other day, (made all the more scary by the fact that I don't do drugs) when I quite clearly in full Dolby Surround Sound ripped an item of clothing which proved to be sound not even five minutes later. Now, I could write that off as faulty memory, but there was no way I could convince myself that seeing a cheerful midget casually shaking me in a rag clad arm was a mere faulty misperception on the part of my mind. That was when something came over me and all thoughts of eagles, fates and wrongness flew from my mind. I shook my head a little and returned Ranna's smile, trying to wake up, and get the fading remnants of what seemed to be a nightmare out of my mind. As if I needed imaginary trouble on top of all my real ones. I pulled myself out of bed, merrily humming a little song and dancing with my house elf in full relief that today was the day I was going to Hogwarts. It hurt a little, since I was still sore, but I didn't want to dwell on that, now did I? It was wrong to do that, Uncle Mark had told me so. ::innocent blink:: All deeper thoughts fled, I picked Ranna up, twirled her around until we both ended up on the floor laughing--Ranna's face soon lost its mirth, crinkles and creases smoothing out into a decidedly solemn look, the under working pattern of merriment and joy that made up the foundation was the basis of her personality. "Now precious," and I preened under her warm praise never having to fear of it being taken away, or hiding some sharper more subtle barb. A hint of warmth dawned on her face as she took me quite firmly in hand, stripping me out of my clothes perforce of habit, in her brusqueness not noticing me flinch back, away from her fingers that encircled my pale young form-that almost harshly caressed it in their job of divesting me of my night clothes and preparing me for the day. Quite the opposite of the last set of strong adult hands that had run themselves up and down my body stripping me of my clothes, of the barriers made up of civilization and propriety that were supposed to keep base beast's urges safely at bay. The last set of hands had not been preparing me for the day, but for the night. For the darkness that crept ever closer to me during those times when the moon rose ever higher in the sky, on its predestined usurpation of the suns royal throne, only to be occluded by a gradual covering of clouds, plunging the whole world into a black so dark you weren't even aware of the darkness. So dark it obliterated even the concept of darkness itself. I was alone in that bottomless well, except for those hands. Creeping down the damp stone stairs to where I hung in suspended flight, an eternity of falling and of sickly anticipation towards my seemingly inevitable collision with the ground. They became my only beacon in all that nothingness and seemed to glow phosphorescently white, so bright I was sure I could see through them to the bones, see pale white blood vigorously coursing through impossible veins. And then those hands caressed me, my formless body dissipating into them. Ranna had apparently noticed my quiet anxiety and reservation. She quickly stopped moving her hands that were thick and florid, heavily callused from hard use (so different from the graceful corpselike pallor that came to me after the sun set) eyes locking on mine in such a way that they conveyed that their Mistress understood exactly what her perfunctory manner and ministrations had done to me. I had to drop my gaze from hers, and not knowing what else to do, rather dumbly sat back down on my bed, nightgown off, body bared in just my undies, staring at my own hands. What small, ineffectual, weak hands they were. Incapable of staving off the darkness for even one second, not able to convey even the simple concept of 'no'. The bed shifted as a large bulk sat down, smelling rather strongly of the kitchen, especially of cinnamon, a spice my father loved to have sprinkled over just about any food that he could possibly manage it. Tentatively at first, and then more firmly when they had affirmed that I wasn't going to bolt, that I was in fact not going to do anything much more than sit there still, like the statue I sometimes wished I could become (made out of beautiful black marble and utterly impervious to any type of outside stimulus) those hands held me, trying their best to surround me with comfort. For one long and dreadful moment, I was sure that those hands were going to do what countless other had not seemed shy of in the least. Slipping over my small chest, as of yet mostly unformed, down to my hips, to the waistline of my cotton panties, clever fingers quickly divesting me of such obstructing garments. But no.these hands were attached to thickset, meaty arms that enfolded me in them so completely I was lost in a sea of brightly colored rags and whispered 'shhhs'. "Don't be sad, pet. You'll be in Hogwarts soon enough, eh?" She murmured this with other meaningless little platitudes as she roughly rubbed my back. I felt tears mist my eyes even as I felt my nerves be calmed by the soothing effect of her enveloping presence. For having such a small body, it was a wonder that she could take up as much space as she did, but her forcefulness (that had gotten her in trouble with my family more than once-not that we would ever get rid of her, w weren't rich enough to easily afford another one) and the simplicity of her emotions projected an aura and personality that was rather larger than her corporeal body would suggest. It was then, being rocked back and forth in Ranna's arms, tears lightly misting my face that I felt the first nudge. I sat up straighter, the tears shriveled up in my eyes. What the fuck was I doing? In this woman's arms, crying stupidly, what was wrong with me? And who was this woman? Lifting my head up, looking around the room, I didn't recognize one inch of it. Not the floor, the curtains, the lavender plants outside the window, even the lack of dust was unsettling and strange. My panic at this oddness just made Ranna hold onto me tighter, probably taking it for increased distress about whatever I was crying about when.I came to myself. All of this took place in a space of time that was most likely less than five seconds long. Or so it seemed to me. And was gone quicker than that. I blinked as if aware that time had passed, something fundamental had changed about me, if only for a second, but unable to retain the memory of what or why. Not that it really mattered, right? I was gonna be at Hogwarts soon, and I could put all of this behind me. Maybe I could even stay at Hogwarts for the holidays.my lips curled up slightly at the thought of this fantasy. Finally, Ranna gave me one final pat, and then stood up. "Why don't you dress yourself, eh? You're certainly a big enough girl to be doing it on your own. Don't need ol' Ranna anymore that's for certain." Still slightly teary eyed I simply nodded, and she stepped forward for one final hug. It was highly likely that I wouldn't see her again before I left to catch the train, so we had to get in our goodbyes now, in private. My parents didn't approve of personal relationships with the servants. "Good luck to you," She whispered in my ear, and I held on tighter. "I'll miss you," I whispered back. She let go of me, walked out the door, giving me one final glance, and that was that. I might not see her again until after a whole year had passed. I would miss her, she being one of my most loyal fans and supporters at home. Indeed, what would I do without her to run to? ~*~
I was on the train to Hogwarts, having made it to Platform 9 ¾ safely. Although for a second there running through that barrier I wasn't sure. I wasn't alone, there were three other girls and one boy in the cabin with me, all seeming to know each other and not really bothering beyond one inquiring glance which I was much too shy and unsure to return. I stared at the window, the English countryside quickly rolling past. Tearing my eyes from it, bored. I mean, yeah, it was 'beautiful', but there's only so much of beautiful that I can take before I start getting nauseous and just want to decorate all that beauty with the gift of my very own body-or a part of it anyway, the kind of part that comes up instead of down and looks reminiscently like your last meal. So instead of torturing myself in such a barbaric way, lacking any finesse whatsoever, I reached into the seat beside me (empty, of course) and grabbed some of the Every Flavor Beans I had bought from the concession lady a while back. I figured if I had to stick out the long hours of this trip, especially without any music, I at least deserved some kind of reprieve. I lifted one into my hand and peered at it; scrutinizing. It was a rosish color, pink with variegating lighter and darker stripes running across that uniform background and running into deeper wells. I stared at it, trying to divine its true personality through the mere outer peeling/skin it presented to its enemies. I thought of the jellybeans and how their skin and outside appearance so often signified the heart of what was inside. One could tell by the exact hue and pitting of them exactly what taste one was going to find inside. Did you have a jellybean that was dark green with exactly a forest green, one third an olive green and one third a sickly greenish yellow, mostly gathered in clumps, but also mixed together a little? Well then you had a snot flavored one. It was quite simple. The plain black ones were licorice, but go one shade lighter, or one shade darker to pitch black, or even just have a spot or two of those other shades on that plain black background and you got something else altogether. Of course, this was a science that required too much patience for most, the general populace generally preferring to give it a cursory glance that could hardly narrow the choices down before popping it in their mouths to be duly surprised, sometimes unpleasantly so, by the taste. This divination based solely on outside appearances unsettled me. Did that mean, that I, too, was only what I wore? What I looked like? All bleeding and broken and frail? Wrapped in the trappings of money and luxury? A mere spoiled fruit masquerading as an actual person? These things weren't good to think about. And why was I having these thoughts anyway? I was usually not so, well, pessimistic. Or self examining. It had all started this morning. I had started to feel not like myself, to think things that had never even occurred to me before. No, it was best to go back to amusing myself with the jellybeans. I carefully turned it over and around, ignoring the odd looks that I was getting from the other kids in the car, and tuning out their excited, albeit mindless chatter about who knew who, what house they were sure to get in, what the best house was, etc. Personally, I thought I was going to get into Hufflepuff. I wasn't particularly smart or brave or anything but, well, patient. And giving. And oh, how I hated it most of the time. For me, the benefits of having a long and steady attention span and a naturally content and giving nature did not outweigh the inactivity that my patience counseled or the permissiveness I seemed to exude that allowed others to do what they would of me. Gryffindor was where I wished I would end up. Everyone there always seemed so happy, nothing wrong ever seemed to happen, they were the beloved of just about everyone. What's more, their lives seemed so simple. So easy. So unlike me. They never seemed to worry about something until their insides ached, until they had come to the point where they expected their insides to break open and mix together in the pot of their stomachs, creating a cancerous acid that would slowly eat the rest of them, little by little until there was nothing left. Such dark thoughts. Such morbid thoughts. I paused. What was that word? I could have sworn that I knew what it meant not even half a second ago, but I was sure that I had never heard it before. Morbid. Huh. With a deliberate wrench of will that usually wasn't needed when I had set my mind to doing something so simple as studying a jellybean I set myself to looking at it again. After a few minutes I was sure. It was meatball flavored. I put it back. I had already had lunch after all. I picked up another one, ready to figure out that one too. Staring at it, my mind kept flitting this way and that until I had lost even the patience to try to concentrate. This was strange, very strange. Oh well, there were other ways to pass the time then by staring at candy or the gently rolling English countryside. I mean, I could always sleep, right? I closed my eyes, giving an internal shudder in relief as blackness suddenly reached its caressing fingers into all the cracks and creases of my mind. Sometimes, darkness was good. There was only one problem. I wasn't asleep. The soothing repetitive motion of the train and the bright sunlight shining through the windows were doing nothing more than sending my mind into a lazy daze. The animated conversation of the others intruded into my head once more. I started listening in, my thoughts drifting slowly and infrequently as their chatter gradually turned into a buzz of sound, words all blending into one another. It was like this, happily relaxing in the face of a rather long train ride, mind flirting with the very edge of unconsciousness that I felt the second nudge. My mind went wide awake, and I started up, giving a cursory glare at the surprised and strange looks that I was getting. I was too busy to pay more attention to them than that, as I was preoccupied with gazing at everything around me in a kind of glazed wonder. I saw the jellybeans next to me and their many and varied color. Much more so than the selection I was used to when I ate jellybeans. I popped one into my mouth after giving it no more than a cursory glance. Hmmm. I rolled it around in my mouth to make sure. Yes, it was most definitely meatball flavored. What an odd flavor to make a jellybean. What was next? A garlic bread flavored one to go with my meal? I looked around. There were other children here, children in robes that looked quite young to me-perhaps ten or eleven? And they were holding sticks of wood that looked suspiciously like wands. Or more correctly, sticks of wood that were wands. If I didn't know better, this whole tableau looked like something straight out of one of the fantasy books that I was so fond of reading. Young robed children, looked like schoolchildren to me, waving wands around and, now that I was listening, talking about things like magic and.houses? There were other discrepancies as well. Like why that frog that appeared to be made entirely of chocolate was hopping around the train car as blithely as you please, and while as I watched a child grabbed it and nonchalantly took a large bite out of its head? I froze, unsure of what to do. Where the hell was I? I gradually and awkwardly made myself rest against the back of my seat. It would do no good to draw attention to myself by asking stupid questions, these children were obviously not surprised that I was there. And since I had never had a hallucination or dream this involved and real, I doubted it was either of those, although there is always a first time for everything. I closed my eyes, blocking out this visual wrongness, although my body remained tensely aware of its unfamiliar surroundings. Perhaps if I went to sleep, my mind would get more collected, there was no danger in my current locale to guard against. And, if this were indeed just a trippy hallucination or way too realistic dream, perhaps when I woke up it would all be gone. And indeed, even as I was thinking this, the fog of strangeness overshadowing everything near me lifted and I couldn't for the life of me recall why such expected, familiar surroundings could have aroused such feelings of wrongness and confusion. What had just come over me? I was exactly where I was supposed to be, on the Hogwarts Express, on my way to Hogwarts itself to start my first year as an official Hogwarts student. My self examination as to what had just happened was cut short as all the sleepiness that had overtaken me before this episode began came rushing down at me in a torrent, and I found myself once again unable to fight it off. I don't know how long it was until I woke up, but it must have been awhile, seeing as how the train was slowing to a stop, and the cricks in my neck and back were complaining to me quite animatedly. It was a good thing I had changed into my robes in the beginning because I don't think I would have had time now for that. To my relief all the weirdness from earlier was completely gone. I was fine, healthy, normal, etc., and had better grab my stuff quick unless I wanted to be stuck on the train and go wherever it was that the Hogwarts Express went when it was finished dropping off the students. I grabbed my things and walked through the now almost empty train to the exit, noticing enviously as I did so other people's pets. It seemed like everyone had at least an owl, if not something less practical and more exciting. They wouldn't let me get one, said it was too big a responsibility that I wasn't ready for yet, that they had already spent so much money on the things that I actually needed, and that I didn't really need a pet, now did I? I love animals. Maybe if I saved up enough money, I could buy one of my own. I'd prefer a dog, but I didn't think you could bring those to Hogwarts. So maybe a cat, no, a kitten, that could ride on my shoulder and sleep with me-It was now, having just stepped outside the train that the third and final nudge came. Much like the first one, it came without warning, abruptly. One second, everything was going as I expected, I was a little nervous, hoping beyond hope that I wasn't shortly going to find myself one of the newest additions to the Hufflepuff House. That the sorting ceremony wouldn't be too difficult or painful, and, most importantly, that I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of the entire school. The next, and it was like the entire world shifted and I was, well, myself again. Not some emotionally stunted and disturbingly naïve wealthy young witch preparing for her first year at boarding school but a sixteen year old disillusioned, distrusting, discontented decidedly non-magical middle class suburbanite not to mention a self proclaimed Mistress of pain and pleasure, and wanna be goth, but God help the person who tried to call me that. I looked down at myself. Yet I was still inside this prepubescent, little girl's, eleven-year-old body. This girl who answered to my name and yet was nothing like me. I looked around me. And, in this awkward and unsure body, I was still in that other world-that strange, and if I was to believe it, magical one. Yes, I was still surrounded by other robed children, chattering happily away at things I had never heard of outside of some authors imagination. Then it occurred to me. How could I have forgotten? J.K. Rowling. Her books about the oh-so-famous Harry Potter. This little scene that I was standing in was straight out of one of them. Ignoring the damning evidence of the mention of Hogwarts Houses, the fact that I had just stepped of the Hogwarts Express and that, somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind there was that eleven year old girl who was affirming everything that I thought, I placed all of my hope of this not being what I thought it was on the appearance of one thing. Hagrid. If I saw that giant step forward to call the first year to order, then I would have to accept that this truly was the world of Harry Potter. Don't get me wrong, I'm as much of a geek as anyone else, and often wished that I could live in this world, or a world like it. Still, it's something quite different from wishing for something that you're pretty sure you can never have and suddenly having your wish thrust on you, granted.
Sometimes, the irony of the world is too great for me to bear. Swooping down on me in eternal completion-the replica of an etching carved in wood, perhaps. No, not wood, wood is human and the moist, pungent smell emanates from it all the same. Wood fades, withers away. Metal then. Or even better, plastic. In a bright, primary color with its gently rounded childproof corners.yes, plastic is perfect. You can't get more inhuman or eternal than something like Tupperware. A Tupperware eagle careening down at me, the eagle with pinion feathers like carefully honed knives and the beak curved upwards in a mocking smile. The cosmic messenger forever ready to land and inform me that once again the joke is on me. Other people, this doesn't happen enough to warrant them getting their own personalized omen of doom. I guess I could say that I'm just special that way, take comfort in the fact that not everyone can understand the nature of their misfortune as well as I do. When the eagle arrived, the events that ensued while damaging, unfortunate and never pleasant, they had also never been life threatening, so when I looked up one day and realized that the oh-so-great immortal bird had extricated itself from its usual stationary plunge and was barreling down straight for my head, I was deeply annoyed, nervous, anxious, and yes- I'll admit there was a little fear. This part was always painful. I closed my eyes, not wanting to see what would happen next. Thus it happened that the last image I had in my head before I passed out was an enveloping black darkness that suddenly leaped out and ruthlessly smothered me until I didn't know even that. I floated in the blackness aware of.something. A strange discomfort, a nagging feeling that this was not right. Indeed, these were rather unusual circumstances I found myself in. The proper procedures for this thing usually went. Feeling of foreboding. The hawk swooping down on me. Sensation of dizziness and nausea. Wait for the shit to fall. Nowhere was this darkness, this lostness included in the instructions. Unless this was something different altogether? The smell of lavender. That was the first thing I noticed as I came to myself. The second was my name. "Kristen, wake up, wake up!" was coming from right next to me. I opened my eyes and just stared. Shit, was all that I could think, much like pilots whose planes, in spite of all their knowledge and best efforts were still crashing unerringly to a gloomy grave in the ocean, or perhaps a more arid and abrupt hit to the ground. Was I hallucinating? I thought I had hallucinated the other day, (made all the more scary by the fact that I don't do drugs) when I quite clearly in full Dolby Surround Sound ripped an item of clothing which proved to be sound not even five minutes later. Now, I could write that off as faulty memory, but there was no way I could convince myself that seeing a cheerful midget casually shaking me in a rag clad arm was a mere faulty misperception on the part of my mind. That was when something came over me and all thoughts of eagles, fates and wrongness flew from my mind. I shook my head a little and returned Ranna's smile, trying to wake up, and get the fading remnants of what seemed to be a nightmare out of my mind. As if I needed imaginary trouble on top of all my real ones. I pulled myself out of bed, merrily humming a little song and dancing with my house elf in full relief that today was the day I was going to Hogwarts. It hurt a little, since I was still sore, but I didn't want to dwell on that, now did I? It was wrong to do that, Uncle Mark had told me so. ::innocent blink:: All deeper thoughts fled, I picked Ranna up, twirled her around until we both ended up on the floor laughing--Ranna's face soon lost its mirth, crinkles and creases smoothing out into a decidedly solemn look, the under working pattern of merriment and joy that made up the foundation was the basis of her personality. "Now precious," and I preened under her warm praise never having to fear of it being taken away, or hiding some sharper more subtle barb. A hint of warmth dawned on her face as she took me quite firmly in hand, stripping me out of my clothes perforce of habit, in her brusqueness not noticing me flinch back, away from her fingers that encircled my pale young form-that almost harshly caressed it in their job of divesting me of my night clothes and preparing me for the day. Quite the opposite of the last set of strong adult hands that had run themselves up and down my body stripping me of my clothes, of the barriers made up of civilization and propriety that were supposed to keep base beast's urges safely at bay. The last set of hands had not been preparing me for the day, but for the night. For the darkness that crept ever closer to me during those times when the moon rose ever higher in the sky, on its predestined usurpation of the suns royal throne, only to be occluded by a gradual covering of clouds, plunging the whole world into a black so dark you weren't even aware of the darkness. So dark it obliterated even the concept of darkness itself. I was alone in that bottomless well, except for those hands. Creeping down the damp stone stairs to where I hung in suspended flight, an eternity of falling and of sickly anticipation towards my seemingly inevitable collision with the ground. They became my only beacon in all that nothingness and seemed to glow phosphorescently white, so bright I was sure I could see through them to the bones, see pale white blood vigorously coursing through impossible veins. And then those hands caressed me, my formless body dissipating into them. Ranna had apparently noticed my quiet anxiety and reservation. She quickly stopped moving her hands that were thick and florid, heavily callused from hard use (so different from the graceful corpselike pallor that came to me after the sun set) eyes locking on mine in such a way that they conveyed that their Mistress understood exactly what her perfunctory manner and ministrations had done to me. I had to drop my gaze from hers, and not knowing what else to do, rather dumbly sat back down on my bed, nightgown off, body bared in just my undies, staring at my own hands. What small, ineffectual, weak hands they were. Incapable of staving off the darkness for even one second, not able to convey even the simple concept of 'no'. The bed shifted as a large bulk sat down, smelling rather strongly of the kitchen, especially of cinnamon, a spice my father loved to have sprinkled over just about any food that he could possibly manage it. Tentatively at first, and then more firmly when they had affirmed that I wasn't going to bolt, that I was in fact not going to do anything much more than sit there still, like the statue I sometimes wished I could become (made out of beautiful black marble and utterly impervious to any type of outside stimulus) those hands held me, trying their best to surround me with comfort. For one long and dreadful moment, I was sure that those hands were going to do what countless other had not seemed shy of in the least. Slipping over my small chest, as of yet mostly unformed, down to my hips, to the waistline of my cotton panties, clever fingers quickly divesting me of such obstructing garments. But no.these hands were attached to thickset, meaty arms that enfolded me in them so completely I was lost in a sea of brightly colored rags and whispered 'shhhs'. "Don't be sad, pet. You'll be in Hogwarts soon enough, eh?" She murmured this with other meaningless little platitudes as she roughly rubbed my back. I felt tears mist my eyes even as I felt my nerves be calmed by the soothing effect of her enveloping presence. For having such a small body, it was a wonder that she could take up as much space as she did, but her forcefulness (that had gotten her in trouble with my family more than once-not that we would ever get rid of her, w weren't rich enough to easily afford another one) and the simplicity of her emotions projected an aura and personality that was rather larger than her corporeal body would suggest. It was then, being rocked back and forth in Ranna's arms, tears lightly misting my face that I felt the first nudge. I sat up straighter, the tears shriveled up in my eyes. What the fuck was I doing? In this woman's arms, crying stupidly, what was wrong with me? And who was this woman? Lifting my head up, looking around the room, I didn't recognize one inch of it. Not the floor, the curtains, the lavender plants outside the window, even the lack of dust was unsettling and strange. My panic at this oddness just made Ranna hold onto me tighter, probably taking it for increased distress about whatever I was crying about when.I came to myself. All of this took place in a space of time that was most likely less than five seconds long. Or so it seemed to me. And was gone quicker than that. I blinked as if aware that time had passed, something fundamental had changed about me, if only for a second, but unable to retain the memory of what or why. Not that it really mattered, right? I was gonna be at Hogwarts soon, and I could put all of this behind me. Maybe I could even stay at Hogwarts for the holidays.my lips curled up slightly at the thought of this fantasy. Finally, Ranna gave me one final pat, and then stood up. "Why don't you dress yourself, eh? You're certainly a big enough girl to be doing it on your own. Don't need ol' Ranna anymore that's for certain." Still slightly teary eyed I simply nodded, and she stepped forward for one final hug. It was highly likely that I wouldn't see her again before I left to catch the train, so we had to get in our goodbyes now, in private. My parents didn't approve of personal relationships with the servants. "Good luck to you," She whispered in my ear, and I held on tighter. "I'll miss you," I whispered back. She let go of me, walked out the door, giving me one final glance, and that was that. I might not see her again until after a whole year had passed. I would miss her, she being one of my most loyal fans and supporters at home. Indeed, what would I do without her to run to? ~*~
I was on the train to Hogwarts, having made it to Platform 9 ¾ safely. Although for a second there running through that barrier I wasn't sure. I wasn't alone, there were three other girls and one boy in the cabin with me, all seeming to know each other and not really bothering beyond one inquiring glance which I was much too shy and unsure to return. I stared at the window, the English countryside quickly rolling past. Tearing my eyes from it, bored. I mean, yeah, it was 'beautiful', but there's only so much of beautiful that I can take before I start getting nauseous and just want to decorate all that beauty with the gift of my very own body-or a part of it anyway, the kind of part that comes up instead of down and looks reminiscently like your last meal. So instead of torturing myself in such a barbaric way, lacking any finesse whatsoever, I reached into the seat beside me (empty, of course) and grabbed some of the Every Flavor Beans I had bought from the concession lady a while back. I figured if I had to stick out the long hours of this trip, especially without any music, I at least deserved some kind of reprieve. I lifted one into my hand and peered at it; scrutinizing. It was a rosish color, pink with variegating lighter and darker stripes running across that uniform background and running into deeper wells. I stared at it, trying to divine its true personality through the mere outer peeling/skin it presented to its enemies. I thought of the jellybeans and how their skin and outside appearance so often signified the heart of what was inside. One could tell by the exact hue and pitting of them exactly what taste one was going to find inside. Did you have a jellybean that was dark green with exactly a forest green, one third an olive green and one third a sickly greenish yellow, mostly gathered in clumps, but also mixed together a little? Well then you had a snot flavored one. It was quite simple. The plain black ones were licorice, but go one shade lighter, or one shade darker to pitch black, or even just have a spot or two of those other shades on that plain black background and you got something else altogether. Of course, this was a science that required too much patience for most, the general populace generally preferring to give it a cursory glance that could hardly narrow the choices down before popping it in their mouths to be duly surprised, sometimes unpleasantly so, by the taste. This divination based solely on outside appearances unsettled me. Did that mean, that I, too, was only what I wore? What I looked like? All bleeding and broken and frail? Wrapped in the trappings of money and luxury? A mere spoiled fruit masquerading as an actual person? These things weren't good to think about. And why was I having these thoughts anyway? I was usually not so, well, pessimistic. Or self examining. It had all started this morning. I had started to feel not like myself, to think things that had never even occurred to me before. No, it was best to go back to amusing myself with the jellybeans. I carefully turned it over and around, ignoring the odd looks that I was getting from the other kids in the car, and tuning out their excited, albeit mindless chatter about who knew who, what house they were sure to get in, what the best house was, etc. Personally, I thought I was going to get into Hufflepuff. I wasn't particularly smart or brave or anything but, well, patient. And giving. And oh, how I hated it most of the time. For me, the benefits of having a long and steady attention span and a naturally content and giving nature did not outweigh the inactivity that my patience counseled or the permissiveness I seemed to exude that allowed others to do what they would of me. Gryffindor was where I wished I would end up. Everyone there always seemed so happy, nothing wrong ever seemed to happen, they were the beloved of just about everyone. What's more, their lives seemed so simple. So easy. So unlike me. They never seemed to worry about something until their insides ached, until they had come to the point where they expected their insides to break open and mix together in the pot of their stomachs, creating a cancerous acid that would slowly eat the rest of them, little by little until there was nothing left. Such dark thoughts. Such morbid thoughts. I paused. What was that word? I could have sworn that I knew what it meant not even half a second ago, but I was sure that I had never heard it before. Morbid. Huh. With a deliberate wrench of will that usually wasn't needed when I had set my mind to doing something so simple as studying a jellybean I set myself to looking at it again. After a few minutes I was sure. It was meatball flavored. I put it back. I had already had lunch after all. I picked up another one, ready to figure out that one too. Staring at it, my mind kept flitting this way and that until I had lost even the patience to try to concentrate. This was strange, very strange. Oh well, there were other ways to pass the time then by staring at candy or the gently rolling English countryside. I mean, I could always sleep, right? I closed my eyes, giving an internal shudder in relief as blackness suddenly reached its caressing fingers into all the cracks and creases of my mind. Sometimes, darkness was good. There was only one problem. I wasn't asleep. The soothing repetitive motion of the train and the bright sunlight shining through the windows were doing nothing more than sending my mind into a lazy daze. The animated conversation of the others intruded into my head once more. I started listening in, my thoughts drifting slowly and infrequently as their chatter gradually turned into a buzz of sound, words all blending into one another. It was like this, happily relaxing in the face of a rather long train ride, mind flirting with the very edge of unconsciousness that I felt the second nudge. My mind went wide awake, and I started up, giving a cursory glare at the surprised and strange looks that I was getting. I was too busy to pay more attention to them than that, as I was preoccupied with gazing at everything around me in a kind of glazed wonder. I saw the jellybeans next to me and their many and varied color. Much more so than the selection I was used to when I ate jellybeans. I popped one into my mouth after giving it no more than a cursory glance. Hmmm. I rolled it around in my mouth to make sure. Yes, it was most definitely meatball flavored. What an odd flavor to make a jellybean. What was next? A garlic bread flavored one to go with my meal? I looked around. There were other children here, children in robes that looked quite young to me-perhaps ten or eleven? And they were holding sticks of wood that looked suspiciously like wands. Or more correctly, sticks of wood that were wands. If I didn't know better, this whole tableau looked like something straight out of one of the fantasy books that I was so fond of reading. Young robed children, looked like schoolchildren to me, waving wands around and, now that I was listening, talking about things like magic and.houses? There were other discrepancies as well. Like why that frog that appeared to be made entirely of chocolate was hopping around the train car as blithely as you please, and while as I watched a child grabbed it and nonchalantly took a large bite out of its head? I froze, unsure of what to do. Where the hell was I? I gradually and awkwardly made myself rest against the back of my seat. It would do no good to draw attention to myself by asking stupid questions, these children were obviously not surprised that I was there. And since I had never had a hallucination or dream this involved and real, I doubted it was either of those, although there is always a first time for everything. I closed my eyes, blocking out this visual wrongness, although my body remained tensely aware of its unfamiliar surroundings. Perhaps if I went to sleep, my mind would get more collected, there was no danger in my current locale to guard against. And, if this were indeed just a trippy hallucination or way too realistic dream, perhaps when I woke up it would all be gone. And indeed, even as I was thinking this, the fog of strangeness overshadowing everything near me lifted and I couldn't for the life of me recall why such expected, familiar surroundings could have aroused such feelings of wrongness and confusion. What had just come over me? I was exactly where I was supposed to be, on the Hogwarts Express, on my way to Hogwarts itself to start my first year as an official Hogwarts student. My self examination as to what had just happened was cut short as all the sleepiness that had overtaken me before this episode began came rushing down at me in a torrent, and I found myself once again unable to fight it off. I don't know how long it was until I woke up, but it must have been awhile, seeing as how the train was slowing to a stop, and the cricks in my neck and back were complaining to me quite animatedly. It was a good thing I had changed into my robes in the beginning because I don't think I would have had time now for that. To my relief all the weirdness from earlier was completely gone. I was fine, healthy, normal, etc., and had better grab my stuff quick unless I wanted to be stuck on the train and go wherever it was that the Hogwarts Express went when it was finished dropping off the students. I grabbed my things and walked through the now almost empty train to the exit, noticing enviously as I did so other people's pets. It seemed like everyone had at least an owl, if not something less practical and more exciting. They wouldn't let me get one, said it was too big a responsibility that I wasn't ready for yet, that they had already spent so much money on the things that I actually needed, and that I didn't really need a pet, now did I? I love animals. Maybe if I saved up enough money, I could buy one of my own. I'd prefer a dog, but I didn't think you could bring those to Hogwarts. So maybe a cat, no, a kitten, that could ride on my shoulder and sleep with me-It was now, having just stepped outside the train that the third and final nudge came. Much like the first one, it came without warning, abruptly. One second, everything was going as I expected, I was a little nervous, hoping beyond hope that I wasn't shortly going to find myself one of the newest additions to the Hufflepuff House. That the sorting ceremony wouldn't be too difficult or painful, and, most importantly, that I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of the entire school. The next, and it was like the entire world shifted and I was, well, myself again. Not some emotionally stunted and disturbingly naïve wealthy young witch preparing for her first year at boarding school but a sixteen year old disillusioned, distrusting, discontented decidedly non-magical middle class suburbanite not to mention a self proclaimed Mistress of pain and pleasure, and wanna be goth, but God help the person who tried to call me that. I looked down at myself. Yet I was still inside this prepubescent, little girl's, eleven-year-old body. This girl who answered to my name and yet was nothing like me. I looked around me. And, in this awkward and unsure body, I was still in that other world-that strange, and if I was to believe it, magical one. Yes, I was still surrounded by other robed children, chattering happily away at things I had never heard of outside of some authors imagination. Then it occurred to me. How could I have forgotten? J.K. Rowling. Her books about the oh-so-famous Harry Potter. This little scene that I was standing in was straight out of one of them. Ignoring the damning evidence of the mention of Hogwarts Houses, the fact that I had just stepped of the Hogwarts Express and that, somewhere deep in the recesses of my mind there was that eleven year old girl who was affirming everything that I thought, I placed all of my hope of this not being what I thought it was on the appearance of one thing. Hagrid. If I saw that giant step forward to call the first year to order, then I would have to accept that this truly was the world of Harry Potter. Don't get me wrong, I'm as much of a geek as anyone else, and often wished that I could live in this world, or a world like it. Still, it's something quite different from wishing for something that you're pretty sure you can never have and suddenly having your wish thrust on you, granted.