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Summary: When an unconscious girl in blood stained muggle clothes turns up on Hogwarts grounds, the staff is confounded by her mysterious origins; and it looks like more than one person is looking for her. Eventual Snape romance. Rated R for violence and sexual content.
Dimensions
Chapter 2: Somthing's Happened Here
In the back seat of a typical soccer-mom SUV, a little girl's heart was palpitating with excitement. Today, Hannah Rothchild would be paying a call upon her favourite person in the whole wide world; her older sister.
Gravel crunched nearly soundlessly beneath the tires as the Ford Explorer rolled into the space directly in front of the modest apartment building. No normal person could have heard it, but the hyper-aware Hannah registered each and every snap, click, and squeak as her much anticipated journey drew toward it's end. Excitable nerves aside, the heightened perception was typical of this girl, who was, in fact, not your average 11 year old.
The monolithic vehicle had barely ceased it's motion before Hannah's furious fingers wrestled with the door handle in a mad scramble to exit. In her haste, she'd nearly left behind the two remarkable red sunflowers she'd selected as a gift for her sister at the grocery store yesterday. Steeped in dye for days, the petals had taken on a fire-engine hue, while their centres and leaves transformed to a deep plum shade. Red being Sissy's favourite colour, Hannah knew she'd delight in them. She'd even taken the time to decorate the ceramic flower pot with some old T-shirt paints and plastic jewels she'd dug out of mother's over stuffed hallway closet. She had made a valiant attempt at two small winged figures, angels or fairies, smeared and crudely drawn with her delicate hands, representing herself and her cherished sibling.
Mother wasn't going to give her youngest leave to depart however, until she'd gotten in one or two parting words.
"Now you make sure and behave yourself Hannie," she began in her softly scolding tone. "I'm just going to go into town and do a little shopping, but if you need me..." she nervously hesitated, "for anything at all, you have my cell phone number."
The eager child battled back a heavy sigh, though inwardly she cringed. Every time her mother dropped her for a gathering of the circle, she had to listen to this faltering delivery. Didn't she trust Sissy, who had such a large hand in raising her all those years ago, to see to her well being now? And given the nature of Hannah's little hobby, well, she was quite good about seeing to herself, after all.
But mother continued oblivious. "Really, anything at all, that either of you need, just give me a ring."
"Sure Mommy," came the terse reply. "Just be here at five."
With that, Hannah hoisted the flower pot in hand, nudged the car door shut, and began hurriedly up the wooden walkway. Balancing the pot precariously on her hip, she raised her arm to wipe the small beads of sweat off of her forehead. The air was ripe with humidity. At time, the thick Georgia air was nearly impossible to breathe during the summer.
"Be careful," mother whispered, more to herself than to Hannah. It was getting harder and harder, bringing her daughter to these shrouded meetings, never knowing for sure what happened behind the locked doors of that apartment. Every time she gave her dearest Hannie over to that strange and mysterious other world, she felt her slipping further away. It was hard enough watching her eldest fall under it's sway. She remembered the hours her first born had spent meditating over cryptic texts alone in her room, isolated, obsessed. The sting of the slammed door night after night still weighed heavily upon her heart. And it'd only become worse when Hannie joined with her sister. Their combined hunger for knowledge and power, coupled with their immense strength, should have probably been worth a degree of pride; it certainly made them a force to be reckoned with, at least. Still, if only Hannah hadn't been so young! Yes, it was difficult indeed, being mother to a duo of witches.
********************************
By all accounts, young Hannah could have been a photo negative of her sister in both appearance and personality. It was expected that her slim, lanky form would quickly overtake her sister's petite stature. Her head, crowned with wispy strands of blonde, already nearly grazed her sibling's shoulder. Sissy's thick burgundy mane stood in stark contrast, and her almost ominous looking almond shaped green eyes lacked the warmth and honesty found in Hannah's saucer like baby blues. And while Hannah's complexion was always suffused with the rosy tint of sunshine, breath, and life, Sissy had long since paled behind closed doors and stacks of books, more closely resembling an ivory hewn statue.
Hannah liked to feel that it was her love of the outdoors, of nature, that had initially spurred her interest in the craft. She hand little patience for her sister's rambling texts, preferring the feel of warm summer grass between her bare toes to the seclusion of the magic library. Rather to be out, amongst the splendour and variety of the world; probably the most sharp discrepancy betwixt herself and her sister. She was the extrovert, at home even from the earliest age among her fellow human beings. Sissy stopped just short of being a recluse.
Despite their differing humours, Hannah's adoration for her big sis remained unwavering. With a twelve and a half year age difference, she often felt like she was growing up with two mothers. Even when Sissy left for college, the two remained close. The bond only strengthened once Hannah began taking an interest in her sister's passion for the supernatural.
"Almost a year!" Hannah reflected. A whole year since they'd begun. It had been just the two of them at first, and Hannah had progressed quickly under her sister's tutelage. One by one other women began searching them out, until their little coven had grown from 2 to 10. With more than a touch of pride, she thought of how she, being the youngest by far, was still only preceded by her sister in magical ability. Her thoughts rested on this as the door to Sissy's apartment swung open for her, the knob turning unaided and without sound. The door had been charmed to only allow admittance to a select few. Immediately, Hannah was hit with a wave of something like nausea. She had to pause for a moment to shake off the light-headedness.
"Weird," she muttered to herself. Snatches of last night's disturbing dream flooded her mind; a blinding flash of light, a room trembling, her sister's face...but it was all too hazy to make out. She had shrugged it off as overactive imagination. One of the foremost lessons learned by any decent witch is not to over interpret dreams and other such supposed "omens." The human mind is a tricky contraption, and can often be misleading. And while her connection with her sister allowed her to feel any danger that may befall her, if she'd been experimenting with magics strong enough to cause her any harm she'd have given Hannie fair warning.
Still, something within the child's psyche wouldn't stop nagging her. She could almost hear it, a hoarse whisper of "something's happened here" echoing through her head.
"Siiiiiiiiiiiiiissssy!!!!" she called up the stairwell, elongating every syllable in childish fashion. No reply was forthcoming. Not unusual, as Sissy was often too engrossed in her work to take notice of the comings and goings in her own apartment, and with the charmed door doing it's job she hardly had a need to. As was often the case, Hannah was the first to arrive to the meet, and thus was responsible for rousing her.
Hannah trudged up the stairs of the town house, towards the small second bedroom that served as her sister's magic library. The room was fortified with magic, and it was either in there or in a special clearing in the forest behind the apartment that their weekly gatherings took place. She had to stop again, halfway up the stair, to fight off the growing feeling of trepidation that crawled through her system. "Something's happened here," but this time the words fell from her own lips.
"Sissy?" she ventured again, this time with a slight quaver to her voice. Gone was the light hearted enthusiasm she had displayed as she bounded up to the door. Replacing it was the disconcerting notion that something had gone terribly, terribly awry.
Shaking herself out of her trance, Hannah tiptoed cautiously but briskly up the remainder of the steps. The door to the magic library was slightly ajar, and emanating from it was the most intense sensation....Power. Raw, unadulterated power.
"Something's happened here," she squeaked, this time her words infused with fear.
"Sissy!" she pleaded this time, standing outside the door, hoping against hope that Sissy would push it open and welcome her inside. After again receiving no reply, Hannah screwed up her courage and gentlely pressed against the door. It gave way easily with a creak or two; she'd been expecting it to be stuck for some reason. When it was opened wide enough for her to make her way into the magic library, part of her wished that the door had refused to budge.
Her breath caught in her throat at the site. Eyes bulging from their sockets, she barely contained the rising hysteria as she surveyed the shambles of the room. It appeared as though there'd been a hurricane, or an earthquake, or both. Papers littered the floor. Dried tendrils of wax stuck in the carpet, having splashed out of over turned candles. One of the bookshelves leaned crookedly and haphazardly in a corner, having somehow been shaken from it's position, it's contents spilled about the room. Hannah, however, barely took note of the wreck. As the first tears bit into her eyes, she couldn't remove her gaze from the spell circle in the middle of the floor, the same circle she'd performed many a ritual. The circle, drawn in the carpet, that was now soaked crimson with blood. Sissy's blood.
Dizziness began to over take the 11 year old, as the reality of the scenario sunk in. Her breath coming only in short gasps, her knees began to buckle. The flower pot with the pretty red sunflowers, those that she'd hand picked meticulously for her favourite person in the world, slid out of her grasp. The lovingly hand painted pot shattered on the floor as Hannah collapsed into the gore.
Summary: When an unconscious girl in blood stained muggle clothes turns up on Hogwarts grounds, the staff is confounded by her mysterious origins; and it looks like more than one person is looking for her. Eventual Snape romance. Rated R for violence and sexual content.
Dimensions
Chapter 2: Somthing's Happened Here
In the back seat of a typical soccer-mom SUV, a little girl's heart was palpitating with excitement. Today, Hannah Rothchild would be paying a call upon her favourite person in the whole wide world; her older sister.
Gravel crunched nearly soundlessly beneath the tires as the Ford Explorer rolled into the space directly in front of the modest apartment building. No normal person could have heard it, but the hyper-aware Hannah registered each and every snap, click, and squeak as her much anticipated journey drew toward it's end. Excitable nerves aside, the heightened perception was typical of this girl, who was, in fact, not your average 11 year old.
The monolithic vehicle had barely ceased it's motion before Hannah's furious fingers wrestled with the door handle in a mad scramble to exit. In her haste, she'd nearly left behind the two remarkable red sunflowers she'd selected as a gift for her sister at the grocery store yesterday. Steeped in dye for days, the petals had taken on a fire-engine hue, while their centres and leaves transformed to a deep plum shade. Red being Sissy's favourite colour, Hannah knew she'd delight in them. She'd even taken the time to decorate the ceramic flower pot with some old T-shirt paints and plastic jewels she'd dug out of mother's over stuffed hallway closet. She had made a valiant attempt at two small winged figures, angels or fairies, smeared and crudely drawn with her delicate hands, representing herself and her cherished sibling.
Mother wasn't going to give her youngest leave to depart however, until she'd gotten in one or two parting words.
"Now you make sure and behave yourself Hannie," she began in her softly scolding tone. "I'm just going to go into town and do a little shopping, but if you need me..." she nervously hesitated, "for anything at all, you have my cell phone number."
The eager child battled back a heavy sigh, though inwardly she cringed. Every time her mother dropped her for a gathering of the circle, she had to listen to this faltering delivery. Didn't she trust Sissy, who had such a large hand in raising her all those years ago, to see to her well being now? And given the nature of Hannah's little hobby, well, she was quite good about seeing to herself, after all.
But mother continued oblivious. "Really, anything at all, that either of you need, just give me a ring."
"Sure Mommy," came the terse reply. "Just be here at five."
With that, Hannah hoisted the flower pot in hand, nudged the car door shut, and began hurriedly up the wooden walkway. Balancing the pot precariously on her hip, she raised her arm to wipe the small beads of sweat off of her forehead. The air was ripe with humidity. At time, the thick Georgia air was nearly impossible to breathe during the summer.
"Be careful," mother whispered, more to herself than to Hannah. It was getting harder and harder, bringing her daughter to these shrouded meetings, never knowing for sure what happened behind the locked doors of that apartment. Every time she gave her dearest Hannie over to that strange and mysterious other world, she felt her slipping further away. It was hard enough watching her eldest fall under it's sway. She remembered the hours her first born had spent meditating over cryptic texts alone in her room, isolated, obsessed. The sting of the slammed door night after night still weighed heavily upon her heart. And it'd only become worse when Hannie joined with her sister. Their combined hunger for knowledge and power, coupled with their immense strength, should have probably been worth a degree of pride; it certainly made them a force to be reckoned with, at least. Still, if only Hannah hadn't been so young! Yes, it was difficult indeed, being mother to a duo of witches.
********************************
By all accounts, young Hannah could have been a photo negative of her sister in both appearance and personality. It was expected that her slim, lanky form would quickly overtake her sister's petite stature. Her head, crowned with wispy strands of blonde, already nearly grazed her sibling's shoulder. Sissy's thick burgundy mane stood in stark contrast, and her almost ominous looking almond shaped green eyes lacked the warmth and honesty found in Hannah's saucer like baby blues. And while Hannah's complexion was always suffused with the rosy tint of sunshine, breath, and life, Sissy had long since paled behind closed doors and stacks of books, more closely resembling an ivory hewn statue.
Hannah liked to feel that it was her love of the outdoors, of nature, that had initially spurred her interest in the craft. She hand little patience for her sister's rambling texts, preferring the feel of warm summer grass between her bare toes to the seclusion of the magic library. Rather to be out, amongst the splendour and variety of the world; probably the most sharp discrepancy betwixt herself and her sister. She was the extrovert, at home even from the earliest age among her fellow human beings. Sissy stopped just short of being a recluse.
Despite their differing humours, Hannah's adoration for her big sis remained unwavering. With a twelve and a half year age difference, she often felt like she was growing up with two mothers. Even when Sissy left for college, the two remained close. The bond only strengthened once Hannah began taking an interest in her sister's passion for the supernatural.
"Almost a year!" Hannah reflected. A whole year since they'd begun. It had been just the two of them at first, and Hannah had progressed quickly under her sister's tutelage. One by one other women began searching them out, until their little coven had grown from 2 to 10. With more than a touch of pride, she thought of how she, being the youngest by far, was still only preceded by her sister in magical ability. Her thoughts rested on this as the door to Sissy's apartment swung open for her, the knob turning unaided and without sound. The door had been charmed to only allow admittance to a select few. Immediately, Hannah was hit with a wave of something like nausea. She had to pause for a moment to shake off the light-headedness.
"Weird," she muttered to herself. Snatches of last night's disturbing dream flooded her mind; a blinding flash of light, a room trembling, her sister's face...but it was all too hazy to make out. She had shrugged it off as overactive imagination. One of the foremost lessons learned by any decent witch is not to over interpret dreams and other such supposed "omens." The human mind is a tricky contraption, and can often be misleading. And while her connection with her sister allowed her to feel any danger that may befall her, if she'd been experimenting with magics strong enough to cause her any harm she'd have given Hannie fair warning.
Still, something within the child's psyche wouldn't stop nagging her. She could almost hear it, a hoarse whisper of "something's happened here" echoing through her head.
"Siiiiiiiiiiiiiissssy!!!!" she called up the stairwell, elongating every syllable in childish fashion. No reply was forthcoming. Not unusual, as Sissy was often too engrossed in her work to take notice of the comings and goings in her own apartment, and with the charmed door doing it's job she hardly had a need to. As was often the case, Hannah was the first to arrive to the meet, and thus was responsible for rousing her.
Hannah trudged up the stairs of the town house, towards the small second bedroom that served as her sister's magic library. The room was fortified with magic, and it was either in there or in a special clearing in the forest behind the apartment that their weekly gatherings took place. She had to stop again, halfway up the stair, to fight off the growing feeling of trepidation that crawled through her system. "Something's happened here," but this time the words fell from her own lips.
"Sissy?" she ventured again, this time with a slight quaver to her voice. Gone was the light hearted enthusiasm she had displayed as she bounded up to the door. Replacing it was the disconcerting notion that something had gone terribly, terribly awry.
Shaking herself out of her trance, Hannah tiptoed cautiously but briskly up the remainder of the steps. The door to the magic library was slightly ajar, and emanating from it was the most intense sensation....Power. Raw, unadulterated power.
"Something's happened here," she squeaked, this time her words infused with fear.
"Sissy!" she pleaded this time, standing outside the door, hoping against hope that Sissy would push it open and welcome her inside. After again receiving no reply, Hannah screwed up her courage and gentlely pressed against the door. It gave way easily with a creak or two; she'd been expecting it to be stuck for some reason. When it was opened wide enough for her to make her way into the magic library, part of her wished that the door had refused to budge.
Her breath caught in her throat at the site. Eyes bulging from their sockets, she barely contained the rising hysteria as she surveyed the shambles of the room. It appeared as though there'd been a hurricane, or an earthquake, or both. Papers littered the floor. Dried tendrils of wax stuck in the carpet, having splashed out of over turned candles. One of the bookshelves leaned crookedly and haphazardly in a corner, having somehow been shaken from it's position, it's contents spilled about the room. Hannah, however, barely took note of the wreck. As the first tears bit into her eyes, she couldn't remove her gaze from the spell circle in the middle of the floor, the same circle she'd performed many a ritual. The circle, drawn in the carpet, that was now soaked crimson with blood. Sissy's blood.
Dizziness began to over take the 11 year old, as the reality of the scenario sunk in. Her breath coming only in short gasps, her knees began to buckle. The flower pot with the pretty red sunflowers, those that she'd hand picked meticulously for her favourite person in the world, slid out of her grasp. The lovingly hand painted pot shattered on the floor as Hannah collapsed into the gore.