The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword
By Jocelyn
Please note that no matter how much I love and adore JK's world I do not own it, any of the places, or characters mentioned. The plot I'm sure I stole from somewhere, but I'm not quite sure who it belongs to, so for now I'm claiming it as a rendition of many of my favorite fan fictions that I have ever read. So they're just my words, I'm not making any money (sadly but truly) and thus my anti-litigation charm has been consummated. Enjoy.
Chapter One
Beautiful. Precious to all those who had owned it, and leaving bitter jealousy in the hearts of those who did not. None of that mattered. Not now. Not ever. The pen is mightier than the sword they say. This may very well be true. It befriends you and accompanies you, letting you believe it is your will which it is carrying out on those scraps of spare paper. The truth is so far from this though. The truth is something that none of our mortal minds can ever completely understand. We simply learn to cherish the pen, and let it have its way with us, doing as it will with our minds until our body is nothing more than an vacant shell. We cherish and protect its works, not knowing that they are written in our own blood. As the ink dries so our chances of escape diminish. We pour out our hearts and souls through this catalyst, and find it does nothing more than consume our very essence. Leaving us with wounds so deeply engraved into our heart they can never truly heal. Then a time comes when your muse owns you, and you are at her mercy.
And so our story begins.
"No mum you really don't understand." Hermione Granger tried to plea her way out of this most horrendous situation as best she could. "Its a very nice idea mum, but it just won't work." Mum always had the nicest ideas. Always helpful and cheery, this one was no different. "Mum, honestly I'm perfectly happy with my quills. They work fantastic on the parchment and honestly I don't need and ink pen." But it was no use, the little case was placed in her trunk anyway.
There was of course logical reasoning for it. She could even understand her mothers point of view. Why dip your quill every third word when you could simply get a nice ink pen and it would save you ever so much time. It was lovely after all she decided, examining it in the glowing light of her lamp. A gorgeous pen, tailored of her house's crimson and gold. The ink was of a pure and flawless black as she tested it upon a scrap of parchment. Even, immaculate, perfect. What was wrong with perfection after all? Perhaps this pen was just what she needed.
The days came, and then went and before Hermione even had a chance to check her summer homework thrice once more her letter from Hogwarts had arrived. So when the days of her calendar had flown leaving it the twenty- ninth of August her pen was still tucked away in its case alongside all of her other worldly possessions which would be accompanying her to school this fall. With everything packed, then checked to see that everything was packed Hermione locked her trunk filled now, with only room for her books left she was ready.
"You know we'll miss you a lot Hermione, right darling?" Hermione's father looked down at her smiling gently. "You must make sure and brush your,"
But before he could finish "Yes dad my teeth I know. Trust me." They all laughed.
"And do be sure and write to us honey, we really do enjoy hearing from you when you are away." Hermione hugged her mother and kissed her cheek. She then turned to her father who swept her up in his arms as he once had when she was a little girl hugging her till she was nearly sure she would pop, kissing his cheek.
As she waved goodbye to mum and dad from the door of the Leaky Cauldron she was rather saddened. She really loved Mum, not to mention Dad. They were her beloved dentist parents whom venerated her above all else. She shook all that out of her mind, there were always ways of talking with them. They had gone to the vexation of having a fireplace installed in their house and being affixed to the Flu Network so that she could "call" them during the school year, and there was always owl post.
As she stood on the step of the Leaky Cauldron the first drop of rain speckled her already sun freckled nose. Looking up and seeing the cold gray clouds pulling in over the city she decided it was time to leave her treasured muggle home once again and journey back into the world of magic where she truly belonged.
The evening passed quickly as she curled up in a booth watching the comings and goings of this quaint little tavern over her butterbeer and a book. The people in the pub were lively and boisterous. Many wizards their cheeks flushed with a bit too much mead were laughing loudly. In a table across the room a small cluster of rather ill concealed hags were trying to remain unnoticed. Tomorrow Harry and the Weasleys would arrive and then it was off to Diagon Alley to fetch her course books and the like. But for now, there was nothing to do but wait. Wait for the clock to strike nine and then go to her modest accommodations and get a sound nights sleep.
Note: This is my first REAL fan fic, so I want everyone to tell me what they think.
By Jocelyn
Please note that no matter how much I love and adore JK's world I do not own it, any of the places, or characters mentioned. The plot I'm sure I stole from somewhere, but I'm not quite sure who it belongs to, so for now I'm claiming it as a rendition of many of my favorite fan fictions that I have ever read. So they're just my words, I'm not making any money (sadly but truly) and thus my anti-litigation charm has been consummated. Enjoy.
Chapter One
Beautiful. Precious to all those who had owned it, and leaving bitter jealousy in the hearts of those who did not. None of that mattered. Not now. Not ever. The pen is mightier than the sword they say. This may very well be true. It befriends you and accompanies you, letting you believe it is your will which it is carrying out on those scraps of spare paper. The truth is so far from this though. The truth is something that none of our mortal minds can ever completely understand. We simply learn to cherish the pen, and let it have its way with us, doing as it will with our minds until our body is nothing more than an vacant shell. We cherish and protect its works, not knowing that they are written in our own blood. As the ink dries so our chances of escape diminish. We pour out our hearts and souls through this catalyst, and find it does nothing more than consume our very essence. Leaving us with wounds so deeply engraved into our heart they can never truly heal. Then a time comes when your muse owns you, and you are at her mercy.
And so our story begins.
"No mum you really don't understand." Hermione Granger tried to plea her way out of this most horrendous situation as best she could. "Its a very nice idea mum, but it just won't work." Mum always had the nicest ideas. Always helpful and cheery, this one was no different. "Mum, honestly I'm perfectly happy with my quills. They work fantastic on the parchment and honestly I don't need and ink pen." But it was no use, the little case was placed in her trunk anyway.
There was of course logical reasoning for it. She could even understand her mothers point of view. Why dip your quill every third word when you could simply get a nice ink pen and it would save you ever so much time. It was lovely after all she decided, examining it in the glowing light of her lamp. A gorgeous pen, tailored of her house's crimson and gold. The ink was of a pure and flawless black as she tested it upon a scrap of parchment. Even, immaculate, perfect. What was wrong with perfection after all? Perhaps this pen was just what she needed.
The days came, and then went and before Hermione even had a chance to check her summer homework thrice once more her letter from Hogwarts had arrived. So when the days of her calendar had flown leaving it the twenty- ninth of August her pen was still tucked away in its case alongside all of her other worldly possessions which would be accompanying her to school this fall. With everything packed, then checked to see that everything was packed Hermione locked her trunk filled now, with only room for her books left she was ready.
"You know we'll miss you a lot Hermione, right darling?" Hermione's father looked down at her smiling gently. "You must make sure and brush your,"
But before he could finish "Yes dad my teeth I know. Trust me." They all laughed.
"And do be sure and write to us honey, we really do enjoy hearing from you when you are away." Hermione hugged her mother and kissed her cheek. She then turned to her father who swept her up in his arms as he once had when she was a little girl hugging her till she was nearly sure she would pop, kissing his cheek.
As she waved goodbye to mum and dad from the door of the Leaky Cauldron she was rather saddened. She really loved Mum, not to mention Dad. They were her beloved dentist parents whom venerated her above all else. She shook all that out of her mind, there were always ways of talking with them. They had gone to the vexation of having a fireplace installed in their house and being affixed to the Flu Network so that she could "call" them during the school year, and there was always owl post.
As she stood on the step of the Leaky Cauldron the first drop of rain speckled her already sun freckled nose. Looking up and seeing the cold gray clouds pulling in over the city she decided it was time to leave her treasured muggle home once again and journey back into the world of magic where she truly belonged.
The evening passed quickly as she curled up in a booth watching the comings and goings of this quaint little tavern over her butterbeer and a book. The people in the pub were lively and boisterous. Many wizards their cheeks flushed with a bit too much mead were laughing loudly. In a table across the room a small cluster of rather ill concealed hags were trying to remain unnoticed. Tomorrow Harry and the Weasleys would arrive and then it was off to Diagon Alley to fetch her course books and the like. But for now, there was nothing to do but wait. Wait for the clock to strike nine and then go to her modest accommodations and get a sound nights sleep.
Note: This is my first REAL fan fic, so I want everyone to tell me what they think.