(a/n) so, here's the deal. i haven't had *any* time to write recently. so, huge apologies. but my bestie re-introduced me to the amazingness that is tom felton and here is the result. enjoy, and don't forget to review!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Seriously. Mrs. Rowling is the genius that created this world, I'm simply... borrowing it for a while. So, if you sue, all you're gonna get is a beaten up car, a cranky cat and a very, very hyper puppy.
White Liar
by:
LoquaciousLethality
In a train compartment, somewhere in the country side of England, a young lady was sitting in her seat, one leg tucked under her body, the other brought up to prop her elbow on. Her eyes watched unseeingly as the scenery flew by, the flatlands being replaced with gently rolling hills dotted with trees.
This wasn't her first time traveling on this particular train, but it was the first time she traveled without a group of people chattering away around her, the first time she traveled completely by herself. While it was nice to not have to block out all the silly giggling, she missed having the companionship of her friends during the long ride.
She couldn't find fault with any of them though. She didn't blame them for wanting to stay home with their families, to recover after the year long war. She didn't blame them for not wanting to venture out and risk meeting those who still thought the war was still waging. Where they had a choice though, she did not.
Her parents were safe in America, her homeland. Her Aunt Cassandra was in the Ministry, and was always gone, and she didn't want to impose on her friends, not after so many of them had lost so much.
The sound of footsteps had her lifting her head up off her palm, and looking towards the door. She watched silently as a figure walked by, shadow giving nothing away as to who it was. The footsteps faded into silence, one that was unusual for this train ride. She knew, even though this was only her second time riding, that it was loud and cheerful, full of friends seeing each other after the long summer. Now, however, that wasn't the case.
The few people who were on the Hogwarts Express weren't quite so cheerful. The few who were returning for their delayed final year had no choice but to be aboard, or were extremely dedicated to the school and all it stood for, even in war.
She was there for both reasons, she decided, turning back to the window. She had no choice, and she loved Hogwarts and what it stood for. It stood for Freedom, for Education, for Loyalty, for Strength and Honor.
It taught loyalty through hardship, it stood tall as a pillar of strength and honor when everything else was being torn apart. It taught honor as well, in dealing with others fairly. It was a tower of education on a lazy world, when everyone thought everything should be easy. And it was as free as Freedom should be. But that freedom was slowly dwindling.
Long gone were the days were you could chose who you could associate with. Gone were the days where you could walk down the street and not have an Auror search you for any Dark Arts.
Gone were the days were you could choose your own husband, she thought somewhat bitterly, eyeing the innocent piece of parchment she had received before the train had left the station.
The new Minister of Magic, Mr. Kingsley Shacklebolt, had enacted the Marriage Law, citing concern for their abnormally low population numbers.
Basically, every witch and wizard from the age of seventeen up to age twenty one was to marry the person the Ministry chose for them. By the end of a year, the couple was expected to either have a child, or be expecting.
Running a hand through her hair, and thus dislodging the clip that was holding her bangs back, she sighed, going over parts of the letter in her mind.
Mainly the part where they carefully forgot to mention the name of the man she was supposed to be marrying, only saying that she would be getting a follow up letter with the date of joining.
Feeling the last strand of her strained temper breaking, she reached up behind her, her fingers closed in around worn wood and pulled. Her long hair that had been held up in a bun by her wand was sent tumbling down her shoulders, and with a glare and a flick, the offending piece of paper was in the air and on fire, quickly burning into nothing-ness.
Her temper sated, she unfolded her legs and stretched them out in front of her, the toes of her worn shoes easily resting on the opposite bench.
She didn't mind being guided through life. She didn't even mind the occasional bossy person who popped up here and there, but to have someone who didn't know her from Helga tell her she had to marry some person she was sure she didn't know from Godric irked her. To have that last bit of freedom of choice be ripped out from under her feet was enough to make even her easy going temper flare into a rage.
She was expected to always be nice, cheerful and helpful. Not a problem, since she liked being nice, cheerful and nice.
She was expected to go to school, do well and get a well paying job. Again, not a problem, considering she was working towards being a Healer.
She was expected to have good friends and make good decisions. This posed no problem. Being a Hufflepuff had it's advantages. Rarely was anyone bad, and they all helped each other decide.
The one last thing she had a choice in was a husband, as long as she loved him. It was her one chance to finally her out from under the overwhelming yet loving hand of her parents. It was her chance to be in charge of her own choice.
It wasn't going to be like that now.
Gad, she could kill He-Who-…Voldemort, if he wasn't dead already. It was his fault the war started in the first place. Shacklebolt was only trying to keep their race going. There was no fault in that, she decided.
Giving another silent but heartfelt sigh, she closed her eyes and let her head rest against the glass, the faint vibrations lulling her growing frustration into a restless sort of calm.
Time moved slowly aboard the quiet and subdued train. Soon, she was itching to get up and walk, to stretch her legs in the hallway with a few of her friends, like they did two years ago.
Giving a sad smile, she pushed up off the bench and quickly wound her hair back up in a bun and stuck her wand there for safe keeping. She remembered the mischievous grin on Kory's face as they passed the compartment some Slytherin's were in, and the resulting Dung Bomb. She could easily remember the complete star struck look in Leir's face as they ran into Lee Jordan coming out of the bathrooms, and the hilariously confused look on Daya's face as they fixed her too-short robes.
Quietly stepping out into the hallway, she felt her heart numb slightly as she thought about her closest friends. Kory was in St. Mungo's, her memory completely gone, along with most of her health. Leir was gone, killed by a rogue Death Eater on her way to her parent's house for Christmas. Daya was in hiding, having lost her precious innocence to the real world, becoming a spy during the war and having her cover blown during a raid on a Death Eater hot spot.
She wasn't the same either. She had done her fair share of fighting and healing. In a fit of helplessness during a bleak rainy afternoon, she had joined the St. Mungo's Battlefield Nurse Association. It took months of battle training and furiously fast courses of basic aid and complex healing spells, but she finally made it out onto the field.
Only to realize that most of the fights took place in homes, in shopping centers and forests, not in some distant place. If it hadn't sunken in that the war was real, this was the deal breaker. Having to deal with losing an innocent in heat of battle was something she would never be completely immune to.
Which, she reminded herself as her feet took her down a dark and silent corridor, wasn't all that bad. The crushing in her chest when the life left someone's eyes served as a reminder that she was still alive and able to still save a life. The tiny piece of heart that crumbled at each child's untimely death only made her work harder and faster to save another's life.
She could still remember the first child she loss. The little girls dark curling hair was up in pigtails, tied off with a bright green ribbon in each side. Her grey eyes were dull with the lack of vibrant life. In her little hands she was holding a worn stuffed cat, it's velvet nose worn with all the kisses placed there by an innocent soul.
She had kept that stuffed animal. It was in her truck even now. She kept it as a reminder to never, ever give up, no matter what she was doing, be it fighting for a life or holding back anger at a stupid person who spilled their coffee on her robe.
"Are you ok?" a voice asked, breaking her through her trip down memory lane.
Blinking away the images of dirty ribbons and loved toys, she realized that she had stopped walking in the middle of an aisle. Looking to her right, where the voice had come from, she saw another girl leaning up against an open doorway.
"Yeah, just got lost in my head." She said, realizing how ridiculous that sounded as soon as it was out ofe her mouth. The girl nodded though.
"I know what you mean. Memories are hard to ignore." The girl said, brown eyes coming up to meet her blue one.
She stood there for a moment, wondering what was going to happen next. She half expected the brunette to send her off again so she could be alone again, but that didn't happen.
The shorter girl took a step back into the empty compartment and tilted her head, inviting her to come in, then turning to go sit, a hand going up to readjust a bright pink headband.
Once they were both sitting, she looked up from where she had been unconsciously reading all the writing on the girls shoes, and gave a small smile.
"I'm Gianna."
"I'm Vera."
With only a nod, the two girls started forming a friendship that would brighten the lives of everyone there.
The rest of the train ride was spent in companionable silence, the occasional question breaking it. It was through these questions that she learned that this was Vera's first time to go to Hogwarts. She had attended Beaubaxton's until it has been almost totally destroyed by Death Eaters.
(a/n) so, waddya think? Should I continue?
Lovies!
~Loqui :)