Written for The Quidditch League Forum's Daily Prophet Comp / Season 5 / Sept-Oct 2017
Inspired by My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion
...
She lives.
The strongest force to be reckoned with. Built on the tallest hills of the Scotland forests. Shelter for the rich, the weak, the poor, and the powerful. She is built with only the sounds of winds and the sweetest touches of magic. The people who leave scratches on her fresh paint are powerful, intelligent, ambitious, and humble.
They are called the Founders.
But, all she knows is that they care for her.
As the ambition and power clash together. The sparks taint her walls and she feels that a piece of her has left the nest.
The humble one places her hand on the stone and whispers, "Aye, my love. We are still here."
She wishes that she would've been blessed with sound, but no matter how much she mourns, the scream never leaves the walls.
Even if no one hears it, her heart still beats.
oOo
She lives.
She can't deny that she has favorites amongst the many students and twisted hallways.
The ones who don't ignore her.
There is a young boy who touches her stone — his dark eyes filled with something dangerously close to hope.
He whispers to her. "Magic is real."
This is the innocent moment she remembers as he grows. He grows to slaughters all that she holds dear to her heart. But he never harms her.
It's almost like he protects her.
Her heart feel broken once again, but she still stands.
Because that's what a protector does.
oOo
She lives.
There are four young boys she feels quite exasperated with.
The dreamer, the charmer, the follower, and the tainted.
They were often getting into trouble down her hallways and in her classrooms. They made many mistakes and many times she turned her own hallways against them out of spite. The dreamer would fall at the feet of the young flower, the charmer would break hearts, and the follower would simply ... follow.
The tainted child was kind, if not cowardly when it came to his friends, but always, it was the kindness that melted her old heart and she opened passageways for them.
As the tainted one passes her, he whispers "Thanks."
The fondness in her heart gives her hope for future.
You're welcome, she wants to whisper back.
oOo
She lives.
The moment of innocence with that young boy years before crumbles to dust as he dies on her grounds.
She is weak. After thousands of years, she finally feels that maybe she can rest with her founders.
She is broken.
Bodies are broken.
Hearts are broken.
Her magic screams within the silence. This is a curse.
A hand rests itself on her walls and she sees him.
The son of the dreamer and flower child. He looks as tired as her, but he still stands tall. The boy who lived stands next to her and says — not in a whisper — but firmly, "It'll be alright."
Is he speaking to himself?
But he speaks again and brushes her walls, "You'll be alright. It's over now."
As a castle, she can't scream, can't laugh, nor can she cry. But, how she wishes that she could.
Her heart beats once, twice, and thrice.
Then she remembers that a protector never falls. Much like the one next to her.
As the boy who lived walks away from her, she focuses on every pain, every fondness, and every moment when she still carried on and she speaks; "Thank you."
It gets lost in the wind but the boy whirls around in surprise, and she laughs to herself.
Her heart still goes on.