Disclaimer: I do not own rights to Harry Potter. All characters and related material belong to J.K. Rowling. This is for entertainment purposes only, no money is being made.
-
-
-
Rain
-
spectrosilver
-
-
-
The areola of the moon lit the sable sky. The room was cold and grey. Candlelight caused the shadows of two figures to dance around the walls. A girl was standing, leaning against the windowsill, looking into the horizon. Looking away from where she was. Looking to what could be. Her lips were red, the color of blood. The color her mother always told her not to wear. So, of course, she wore no other. The boy was pacing, holding an open book in his hands. His own lips were chapped, bearing the mark of excessive broom flying. His skin was pale, as if the sun hadn't touched it in years. It was true, however, it hadn't. His cold blue eyes, which held barely a glint of life in their core, scanned page after page, intent on finding just the right charm.
"I've found it," was all he said, whispering an incantation aloud from the book. From the ceiling broke two enormous silver rain clouds, opening and spilling droplets into the room. The beads of rain were a clear, silvery-blue, and glistened like fresh tears. Instead of soaking the cold stone floor, instead of making the girl and boy shiver, the droplets vanished when they made contact with matter. The girl tossed her long, ebony hair back, staring at the ceiling as the rain fell. The boy sat down in a chair, the girl followed. The girl always followed the boy. The candlelight flickered and then died. The boy and the girl sat in the darkness, in the rain. Two figures both coming of age with a lack of emotion. Two figures that resembled youth but knew of things that would make elders cringe. Two figures, alone in the dark as the rain fell like tears.
-
-
-