"Of Nothing"
She laid out just beyond the stretch of courtyards in the sun drenched fields.
She was making tulips out of nothing.
She was breathing in and breathing out, and with each breath, she spread feeling.
and With this, she made them live.
One of the strangest things about the ability to create life is the fact that
when you create it, you give it a part of yourself.
A tiny broken peice of your being.
You would think that eventually, you would run out of peices to give.
Eris was whole.
Eustace was calling for her now.
Almost two decades ago, Eris was born on this day.
And like the wealth of flowers before her
Eris was created out of nothing.
Or, as it seemed.
Eris never knew her parents.
Eris never knew her brothers or sisters, if she even had any.
All she ever knew were The Wellingtons.
Not that there was anything wrong with them.
But there wasn't much right with them right, either.
Not quite vicious, and not quite kind, the Wellingtons were fabulously wealthy.
When a person is as wealthy as the Wellingtons, there isn't much else to say.
Eris had always been told and was occasionally reminded,
(especially when a parental repsonsibility was needed),
that she had not sprung from Alda and Grant Wellington's loins.
That was all she knew.
And as far as Alda and Grant were concerned, that was all she need know.
Eustace was calling for her.
Eris reluctantly sat up, finished her work, then went running for the house.
The house was nothing less than a mansion.
Very large, very full of items, but empty.
She passed the courts, the gardens, the gates and the walls.
She went over and under, and in all directions.
She knocked on the door.
"Eris." scolded Eustace, "Late for your own birthday party, you'll be the death of us."
Eris grinned sheepishly, as Eustace scolded her. "--And Alda has been preparing this for weeks---"
Eustace, to be positively honest, was the most typical butler you could possibly imagine.
(I'm sure you've got it right)
"--Did you ever stop to think of that, missy?"
Eustance sniffled and straightened his bow tie.
"I suppose not." Eris smiled. "Come on." she insisted, gesturing down the dark halls.
Eustace hesistated, perhaps reluctant to leave his post by the door.
"They can let themselves in for a bit." suggested Eris, practically pushing Eustace.
It was a flurry of crepe paper and applause.
A hideously brilliant mass of cupcakes and packages.
Snapshots, bright lights, and then the music began.
Eris couldn't hear a thing. She could hardly see.
A flurry of stuffy people she had never truly liked surrounded her.
Fake smiles were abundant.
Faces were all beautiful, although young and old.
Everyone was crusted in sparkles and furs.
The place was a riot, with champagne and wine everywhere.
"Oh hello, Mrs. Bennett!" Eris exclaimed happily, as Eustace whispered her name in Eris's ear.
Everyone always thought Eris was a bit strange, although only a few had the nerve to speak their minds.
She was all smiles, all laughs. She tried to ignore the more middle aged women's rather shocked expressions
half due to Eris's atire, half from abundant plastic surgeries.
They all knew she was aristocratic, although from a vague background.
Why else would the Wellington's have taken her in?
Gossip ussually avoided Eris, as she ussually avoid the gossipers.
But tonight was an exception, as all attention was on her.
Alda Wellington pushed her way though the dying crowd.
"Oh darling!" she exclaimed, and as she clutched Eris with her bony hands, lightly kissing her cheeks, she whispered.
"Eris... go upstairs immediately, and put something nice on for our guests." Alda half threatened, while smiling.
Eris looked at her grungy skirt, then looked at Alda's heavy ballgown.
Alda still smiled, although a deadly look lingered in her eyes.
Eris didn't bother to argue.
She pulled on a very long, red satin gown.
It was very simple but elegant, strapless with a very fine detail, and a very full skirt.
She pulled her dark hair back, and fixed her makeup.
She pulled her long, soft gloved on, and took one last look.
Showtime.
Eris shut the door turned and began walking hastily down the long, empty hall.
She paused for a moment to look at the watery painting before her.
The deep red hallway lit it perfectly. It must have been new, she had never seen anything like it before.
She stood for a moment, and thought on the impossiblity of capturing such a pure beauty.
Eris, still looking back, continued walking.
Impact.
She fell backwards, as gracefully as one can, and she sat on the floor confused for a moment.
Her blood red dress poofed up around her, and she shrieked aloud.
She saw a pair of shiny black shoes.
And in that moment, Eris looked up
and into a pair of the most colorless eyes she had ever seen.
Short, I know. Impersonal, yeah, I know. It will develop. I have a HUGGGE plot in mind. Also, HP is all JK's. So, yeah.