AN: I'm a more than a bit of a pessimist when it comes to my work. So here's an idea I've gotten off the sites I visit. You know the deal, you write a small ficlet or drabble centering around a word or statement or quote or the like ;) Somewhere around 500ish words, maybe a bit less. I'll see what I can do anyway, I doubt it will be updated much.
My drabbles will be Harry Potter mini ficlets, cos I haven't written one on here. Not necessarily about the people, might be magic, a spell, a place mentioned etc. etc. Ok, Here comes number 1.
Disclaimer for the Entire Story: I have nowhere near the godlike patience or skill to create Harry Potter. Also, I would have a new laptop to be writing this on.
~Compose~
The world around us is full of magic.
Not just the normal kinds of magic that every wizard or witch is aware of: hexes, jinxes and charms. Magic was so much more. Even the muggles create some of the purest forms of magic known. They laugh, happiness, a magical spell that weaved through the air, infecting those that came into contact with it. Not that they ever minded.
When you walked past a young couple, so in love they believe they are invincible, or when you see a new mother and father's first loving look upon the being they created out of their love. This kind of magic gave hope, that a better day would come, that such things as better days still existed, and were not some day when you just barely survived. But a day where you lived.
Days like this were a perfect example.
The grass below gently, ruffling in the cooling breeze that came like a breath of fresh air from over the lake. The lake, despite its tendency to have multiple disappearances linking to it, was a calmer mirror, showing everything as it was. A clear blue sky, a quiet surrounding as the breeze played absently in those close enough's hair.
It birds chirped, the tree rustled, the children laughed.
The melodies weaved through the air, composing such a magnificent tune that it uplifted everybody's spirits. A symphony that even an old master could not hope to accomplish with everything at his disposal.
It was almost enough to make anybody forget that a war had only just finished.
But, there, like an out of tune instrument, the clashes sounded as you glanced around. The memorials littered the peaceful scene, the graves of those that had fallen, like a single instruments missing a cue, the entire symphony wavered and fell apart.
Life would never be the same.
Short. Sweet. I liked it actually. 312 words, but it got the point across, no rambling. Hmm,, might have to try this more often ;)