The flickering torch
Thought I'd have a go at just describing something. I normally avoid next gen stuff like the plague/marriage law (what's the difference?) but i thought i'd have to do one at some point soooo ...
Disclaimer: if you recognize it, it's not mine :(
How many times had he walked past it, barely noticing its existence? He' had six years worth of trekking to potions lessons and there it had been, hidden in plain sight. He was sat in one of the dungeon corridors, his back against the wall of the potions room. Concealed beneath his father's cloak, his grandfather's map in his left hand and his wand held ready in his right, James Sirius Potter was waiting.
It was one in the morning and he and his cousin Rose were waiting for best friends Albus Potter and Scorpius Malfoy to appear on one of their infamous midnight walks. Or rather, James was waiting; Rose had fallen asleep and without anyone to talk to his attention had been drawn to the flickering torch on the wall opposite them.
The bracket which held it to the smooth stone wall was not secured by any visible means and James could only assume it was a permanent sticking charm. The heavy brass was set in rough circles and intertwining branches of metal snaked around each other. The metal itself was a dull gold colour tarnished black with age. The vines of brass appeared to have been molded deftly as the texture of was pockmarked and scarred, as though they had had been beaten into shape with rocks. The torches body was supported by loops of metal which widened at each tier to better support the cone.
Woven brown cord, which appeared coarse and hairy, enclosed whatever eternally flammable substance resided within the cone. The plaited cord spiraled round to overlap with the base of the flames, but it did not burn.
Orange tongues flickered, tasting the stale air of the corridor, casting dancing shadows on the uneven stone and pitted metal work. They jockeyed for position, each spark trying to leap higher than its predecessor, only to crash and sink out of sigh below the cones brim to be reborn. Faces and patterns shone golden before melting and reforming into something else. He saw the raw power of the fire and was strangely grateful it was contained, the fire could be malevolent, it had a brutal nature and sinister consequences. Yet the power had been tamed, he felt a sense of ancient wisdom and comfort from the winking light, the longer he looked the harder it become to look away. They whispered gently and merrily clicked enticing him to doze off. For a long time the only noise was that off the flames and Rose's deep breaths, the only thing keeping him awake was the temperature. Only a teasing breath of the torches heat brushed his face, emphasizing the cold aching in the rest of him.
There was a scuffling sound, muffled voices and then footsteps headed in their direction. He elbowed Rose in the ribs, she looked confused but I pointed at the map and she grinned, the mischievous glint in her eye. Most girls wouldn't want to attack and hew their innocent boyfriends or cousins, not Rose Weasley. Everybody would probably think it was childish, he was nearly seventeen, but he still had a month before he became an adult, a month he was fully intending to take advantage of. Rose was in fifth year and her sixteenth was coming up soon so she didn't have an issue with childishness.
As the two Slytherins walked round the corner the cousins grinned and raised their wands to cast the spells which caused the boys to become walking Gryffindor mascots for half a week. They each sported bright red skin and a lions mane and tail, none of which the teachers seemed to be able to remove until three days later when the charms wore off. Gryffindor one, Slytherin zero.
Thanks for reading! If you liked it, hated it let me know, please review :)