Disclaimer: I do not own the delightful Harry Potter universe or any of the residents within, unfortunately.
A/N: I know, I know. I have so many stories going on right now, however.. I get bored to quickly when I focus on only one story at a time. I am still working on the others, just in turns. Anyways, read it and tell me what you think of the beginning.
The Chosen Path
Chapter One: The Sky Falls Down…
Mistress B
Goodnight, sleep tight, no more tears,
In the morning I'll be here
The sky outside the window was a clear cerulean blue, the clouds underneath the plane soft and white. Looking out past her mother, her father's hand in her own, she had never been happier. Her fear of heights she had put on hold, at least for the flight to and from America. She had had the best week of her life, starting with the news when she came off of the school train that her parents had relented, and they were going to a seminar on the magical world, put on for muggle family members of a witches and wizards. It was held in Chicago, and had been quite informative for her mother and father, delivered by a muggle-born witch, which, because of her knowledge of both worlds, was very easy for her parents to understand.
They had enjoyed the 4 days in Chicago, and then today had headed to the airport, ready to return to their home. They were in England now, not long until they would land and be on their way home. Her mother was humming and drawing to Hermione's right, the sketchpad her mother had taken up carrying with her full of pictures of the sights in Chicago, an old man out feeding pigeons, a young boy climbing on a steel jungle gym. Among those sketches were ones of Hermione and her father, walking down the road looking back at Hermione's mother and beckoning with their hands, sitting in a café debating something the witch had explained in the seminar that day.
Her father sat on her left, watching the movie and holding lightly to Hermione's hand as his eyes followed the old movie. Hermione had a book open on her lap, one written by the witch who had presented the seminar, a notebook open on top of that and a pencil tucked behind her ear. She was going over the points the woman had made, arguing them lightly in her notebook, her small, neat writing filling pages on pages just in debating with numerous books. She did this often, to keep her debate skills, that she so enjoyed using, in top form. She had so little practice in school, since she was always around Ron and Harry, who she couldn't stand debating with. They never realized that, a good deal of the time, she wasn't angry. She supposed it was what she got in return for having two good intentioned but undeniably dull-witted boys for best friends.
And when we say goodnight
Dry your eyes because
She turned from the window and yawned lightly, sitting back against the comfortable seat, her fingers running quickly through her dark brown hair. She pulled the pencil out from behind her ear and put it again to the paper, reading the next point that the witch made. With a shake of the head, she began writing quickly, the pencil flying over the paper as her eyes followed her progress. She was bent over the notebook when the first tremors went through the plane, and she looked up, frowning lightly and glancing around. Her mother was slowly signing her name to the bottom of the page she was working on, a drawing of her, her mother, and her father. She glanced to her father, whose eyes never left the screen.
As if sensing her panic, her father turned, smiling comfortingly to her. "It's all right, honey. It's just a bit of turbulence. It always happens." He said, giving her hand a small squeeze. She frowned and looked at her mother, who smiled and carefully tore the picture out of the notebook.
"Here. Spend time on this, instead of worrying about things that will do you no harm." Her mother said, laughing lightly. Hermione smiled and took the picture; looking at the drawing her mother had spent her time on with a small smile.
"It's lovely, mum." She said, looking at her mother and grinning. Her mother just smiled and looked out the window. Hermione tucked the drawing into a small pocket in her jacket, turning back to the notebook in front of her. She had written about half of a paragraph when the tremor began again, this time worse than before. She looked around again and saw a red blinking light, signalling that they were to fasten their seatbelts. She shakily did as instructed; trying to keep the calm her parents were showing. It wasn't until she saw her mother's shaking hand that she realized that her mother was afraid as well. "Mum?" She asked shakily, her eyes wide.
Her mother looked at her and smiled. "I never liked flying," She admitted, shrugging softly. Hermione relaxed again. Her mother was just afraid of flying. That didn't mean she was afraid for her life, Hermione told herself. She had just calmed herself when a voice came over the intercom.
We said goodnight
And not goodbye
"Flyers, this is your captain speaking. I'm afraid we've had a bit of a malfunction. If you would please return to your seats and fasten your seat belts, I am sure we will have this under control in no time at all." Hermione wanted to be comforted by the captain's words, but found she was breathing heavily. A shrill cry from behind her didn't help matters any. She let out a sharp sob and her mother's arm went around her shoulders, her father's thumb stroking her hand lightly.
"It's all right, Hermione darling." Her mother whispered in her ear. "We'll be right here until this is all over. We'll always be here for you." She promised softly, her words shaky as if she, too, fought tears.
Her father was stroking her mother's hair, murmuring things into her ear over top of Hermione's head. Hermione felt a tear slide down her cheek, and as another tremor shook the plane, this worse than either of the ones before, she heard herself sobbing louder. Things fell out of overhead bins, indeed the whole plane seemed as if a giant had taken hold of it in its palm and began to shake it about. She hugged her father and mother tightly too her, as if they would fall away from her. "It's all right, honey. We'll be right here." Her father said to her softly, reaching his hand to stroke her cheek softly, brushing away her tear. "We'll be on ground in no time at all, hugging each other and glad to feel the firm ground once more beneath our feet. This will all seem just a bad dream tomorrow" She heard him mutter softly to her mother.
Oxygen masks fell from above them, and her father, who often had found himself travelling in airplanes, helped her mother and her attach the masks over their mouths and noses. She was crying heavily, fear gripping her. The plane continued shaking, tossing from side to side, and as she looked out of the window, she found they were quickly approaching the clouds, then they were enveloped by the cover of white. She knew they were going down, and she was afraid she wouldn't make it out alive. Her mother and father, they would be devastated. Their only daughter, killed in a plane crash. She wouldn't entertain the idea that her parents would be the ones lost; indeed, the idea was ludicrous to her.
The last moments before the plane hit were a blur, but as the ground steadily approached, she stared in her mother's eyes, gripping both of her parent's hands in her own. "I love you, mum, dad." She said over the roar that had permeated the cabin, for what she was sure would be the last time. She couldn't believe how quickly it had changed from an uneventful flight, too this.
"We love you too, darling. Just close your eyes, and when this is all over, we'll both be there for you. Think of your lullaby, darling." Came the answer.
Her mother's warm, caramel eyes swallowed hers, and she found herself unable, indeed unwilling, to look away. Her father's hand gripped hers, and she gripped right back. As the plane impacted the ground, she felt one last tear slide down her cheek, and as the screams engulfed her, so did a smothering darkness. Her eyes closed.
We said goodnight
And not goodbye…
Song: Goodnight, Evanescence (That song will come into play again, as a lullaby she remembers)
Hope you enjoyed. Review!
Mistress B.