Chapter One
An Introduction
Pressure is a funny thing. For some people, it helps them to grow; to perform at their best. I know people on the house teams that swear that pressure gets their adrenaline going, helping them to outperform the opposition on the quidditch pitch. Yet, for others, pressure is the less satisfactory outcome of exams, professors and home life. Something that can leave you red faced and weepy without a moment's notice.
However, I'm talking, not about the pressure of putting the ideal amount of spin on the quaffle to score that final goal, or to open those exam results and see Outstandings where only days before you were convinced you would see Trolls. I mean literal pressure. The pressure of several tonnes of slightly murky water above your head.
The cottage where I live with my mum is a hop, skip and a jump from the coast, with the garden soil becoming sand beneath your bare feet and the wind tasting of salt, no matter the time of year. I go to the water's edge to think, or to forget, depending on how the mood takes me, and today, seeking the refreshing calmness of the world beneath the changeable skies and choppy waves, I dived in.
I read somewhere once that the sea, beneath the first initial twenty metres or so of chop and noise, is the most silent place on earth. A peaceful oxymoron of a graveyard; so quiet and yet so full of life. I personally choose to disagree, but then again, I am the only person I know who can speak Fish, so perhaps I'm just unfortunate in that way.
Ah, I can see I have alarmed you. Perhaps I should explain...
My mother never really speaks about my father and so I know very little about him. But as my mother thinks she's drowning in less than two feet of water, I assume that I get my water-loving tendencies from him. Perhaps he managed to ingrain his DNA with gillyweed? I mean, anything's possible.
Not that I have all of the creepy side effects of Gillyweed, I hasten to assure you. Not the webbed fingers or the flippered feet. But my lungs harden and slits open on my neck and sides, allowing me to draw oxygen from the ocean as easily as you do from the air. I suppose my bones must be different too, harder, more dense, otherwise my skull would currently be squashed against the rocky sea bed. But mostly I'm normal.
Well, as normal as I ever could hope to be as my friend Lily always tells me.
'Artemis' she tells me with a perfectly straight face. 'You are entirely mad.' And while not perhaps the most flattering of recommendations in the world, you take what you can get I guess.
I quite enjoy being Lily's wacky best friend actually, especially since I'm not exactly much to look at on the outside. People always say that it is what's inside that counts, but you try getting a seventeen year old girl to believe that! Tall and skinny, with small breasts and narrow hips, I have knees that are all too well acquainted with knobbly and elbows that can do serious damage when I need them to. Pale skin, not a throwback to some Icelandic relative, but a sure descendent of the fact that I spend very little time outside. Eyes the colour of raisons and hair more or less the same, I am neither ugly or hideous; simply a girl whose occasional habit of easting more sweets than I ought left me with a spattering of red marks on my forehead that were banished with the help of creams.
Being average looking is all well and good, but when Lily and I walk down the corridor, and Lily is beauty, there can be no mistake about that, it takes a lot for passersby to drag their eyes from her entirely symmetrical face and long auburn hair to my pasty complexion.
Truthfully, I used to mind quite a lot, especially back in second and third year when puberty hit and suddenly boys were this foreign species, and little red mountains decided to erupt all over my face whenever I wanted to look half-way decent. But once the worst of the hormones settled down and I realised that Lily was possibly the nicest person ever (Well, except when a certain someone is around but I'll get back to him later), I realised that the only person I was hurting with my silly jealousy was myself, and so I banished from my thoughts and we've got on just fine ever since.
As confessions go it isn't the most glamorous, but there we. I am not the most glamorous person and that is absolutely fine by me.
I checked my watch, a redundant motion as by now the water had long since invaded its inner workings and caused one of the hands to fall off. I always forget to do a water-repelling charm before I go swimming and often get through as many as fifty watches in a year. One of these days I will rake through my Gringott's savings and buy a spectacularly expensive one that quidditch players or deep sea magi-zoologists use, but for the time being I shall just bumble around, constantly late for everything until I can scrounge a new one.
Still, judging by the darkening water around me, and the lack of sunlight rippling on the surface waves, I guess it's time to be heading upwards and back to shore for dinner and final emergency packing for tomorrow. I'll run around like a headless bowtruckle for an hour or so, desperately trying to find the spell books I bought from Diagon Alley a few weeks ago until mum takes pity on my general incompetence and does it for me. After six years it's sort of traditional now.
Stretching out my arms, I kick off hard from the rocky outcrop and stretch towards the surface.
Hello Lovelies, I know I've been promising this for a while now and at last it has arrived! As you can see from the above chapter, The Fishbowl Between the Worlds (virtual cookies to all who recognise the title!) is a little different to Sun, the Moon and Stars. I will be tinkering with the plot slightly to make it flow more smoothly, and, obviously, the written style is rather different. I'm hoping that I've matured as a writer and that becomes obvious when this retelling is compared to the original.
Plot-wise and characters: Well my loves, never fear, all your favourite characters will still be there. In fact, some may even get more screen time. I've been sat on quite a lot of background information regarding my characters so look out for plot bunnies!
Of course, some sacrifices must be made and I am also going to be removing a few bits from the narrative and shuffling things around. I mean, you get to watch Sirius and Arty fall in love again so what's not to like?!
Finally, you! My wonderful readers of STMAS are the reason I am rewriting this with the prospect of a sequel in the makings. Your support and reviews have given me the inspiration to recreate Arty's final year so THANK YOU!
Okay, really the final point! Drop me a review and let me know what you think about the new chapter. It was your reviews that got me writing again and everyone knows that reviews are GOOD!
Love and hugs
A.A.A.
Xxxxxx