Book two: Trials and Tribulations
Chapter 13
Well.... here is my explination with the last chapter. After this ever-so- important message:
To the disclaimers: me no own.
-Imagine being able to dream the dreams of someone else. You would feel their joy or help bear the grief of their pain. Perhaps just having someone dreaming the same dream as you would be a comfort. Perhaps it would be a burden, having someone looking into your head. But are dreams real, or just images of a tired head, mere hallucinations? Are some real, or just a mixing of the imagination? There must be some purpose behind them, that no one really knows....-
Far away from India, in the notebook, was a untidy message scrawled by a girl named Trinity. A girl. Named Saini. Harry. Comes. To. Her.
"Ah," a sigh of relief came to Trinity Hope Angeloz as she splashed water gently on her face. It was cool andfreezing, brining her from other's lives into her own. At a very appropriate time of one in the morning, she started to study herself in the mirror. The dream... it faded in her head. She tried to keep it, but it was too hard. It drained out, spiralling down. Luckily, she had taken a few short notes. She splahed a bit more water. It was Friday night. No, now Saturday morning. She groaned as she stubbed her toe on the toilet. She sputtered at it, and wanted to punch something.
Punch.
Punch.
Punch.
Suddenly, it all came back, though six months ago. In November, she had lost one of the most important things to her. Now it was April, and springy. She missed it, but she was too mistrusting, too shy to ask for it back. It wasn't something she could could just steal. It was a... friend. She blushed in a mixture of embarrasment and anger.
"I thought we agreed, not to... think of him!" she hissed at no one but her reflection. Funny, she wasn't grinning evily... why was the girl in the mirror?
"You know why you don't want to think of him," she grinned. "You know. Because you LOVE him, that's why."
"I don't love him!" Trinity protested. "We're FRIENDS! Or we were, atleast. I don't love... Love just messes people up... like it did to Mom...."
Her voice trailed off. Her mother. She was so stressed these days, she hardly ever smiled. Trinity worried about her. She worked almost 24 hours a day, hardly having time to do anything but. She used to sew, but now she never did. Never enough money, never enough time. But why had she done this? Because even though there was no money and no time, there could never be no love. Maria, not to Trinity's knowing, had often thought of an orphanage. But it was illegal because of her current status, and she could never dream of life without Trinity. It was one of the things that had kept her going. If it hadn't been for the one person who had stayed with her, she might have thought of suicide. It was love that made her need her, but it was also love that made her want to give her away into a better life. Yet she knew that giving her away would make Trinity even more secretive and mistrusting, so she couldn't.
She splashed a bit more water. It helped her think clearly. She remebered the trial. It would be coming up soon. The divorce. Trinity knew she had to use the courage she had to get herself away from her father. Abuse would be forgotten. Her mother didn't want to mention it. It would create more trouble. She just want this to be in and out, with Trinity by her side. Her father would try to make himself look superior, like the better parent, but Trinity would not let this trick work. If they let her speak, she'd have her say. This was her moment. This was her time to be heroine. This time was hers.
Suddenly, another face appeared in the mirror. Not the one on her bathroom wall. The one in her mind. This was time for change. For a new begining. For an appology. She owed it to him. Collin.
His dirty blond hair and tanned skin wafted in her mind. This had been driving her crazy for all six months, right after the moment she had punched him. From the moment he had tried to touch her. She knew she had made a mistake. Insecurity did funny things to a troubled mind. She touched her stomach, and felt oddly queasy. She knew this would mean seeing Collin again. It couldn't be done by e-mail or MSN. She had to see him. It would be hard... but this was time for change.
She glanced at the clock. It was one thirty-five. So, knowing she could never get a wink of sleep, she brang her notebook out to the balcony and sat there, writing, loooking at the stars. The city was quiet and peaceful. She heard someone snoring sleepily, groaning and sighing gently in the early morning. There was the faint sounds of a baby crying in some, more distant part of the streets. The whole scene was very relaxing.
She picked up her pen, to try to make her beautiful dreams turn into words, and let others visualize, but it seemed impossible at this moment. She tapped her fingers on the paper, but nothing came. No images. She was only in one world, not both, like usual. This disturbed her greatly. Had she lost the gift that he life needed? Why had it gone away, and how? She pondered this for hours, sitting on the balcony, watching the rising sun, and letting the river of thoughts flow freely threw her head. She twisted a piece of her hair around with her finger, playing with an idea. It seemed like she had only one option. It was 8:07 am. If she left within ten minutes, it would be almost nine by the time she got to her destination. She walked, silently and gracefully inside. After flinging on what appeared to be a presentable outfit, throwing her pyjamas on the bed, and brushing her hair, she grabbed her bag and a light, spring jacket, to get on her way. Then, just as she was locking the door behind her, she rembered her sleeping mother.
Mom,
I need a bit of time to myself. Thanks for understanding.
I can't say when I'll be back, but I've got everything covered.
See you before supper,
-Trinity
She scrawled the hasty note and posted it on the door to her mother's room. She could hear a slight snore. The door opened a bit, and she peered inside to see her mother's small room, with not a bed, but a mattress, slightly elevated off the ground thanks to some odd platform she had managed to assemble. Maria was in peace, a look of complete satifaction on her face, like nothing had ever happened. Trinity half expected to see her father lying there beside her, before the abuse, before the pain. She remebered when she was very small, how she'd wake up early on the days he promised to take her somewhere; fishing, or to a carnival. How she'd bring in her books, sit by their bed, and read, waiting patiently for them to get up, sometimes waking them if they slept in too late for her liking, by jumping up and down at the foot of their bed.
A tear stung in the corner of her eye as she rembered what had once been considered her family, whe she had once felt an emotion called 'love' for her father. She hardly remebered this, but it had been so one time. Now she felt hatred... but he was still her father, and she could not erase the memory of the once cleanly-shave and bright smiling man, while the big imagination and the twinkling eyes, who gave the greatests hugs and was always there. But what had he become? An alcohol-addicted, overly- possesive, absuing husband. How could there had been such a change?
The tear stung more, but she blinked, and quickly wipped it away. It was obvious she was living in the past, which was a mirage she could drown in. She needed to concentrate on the current life. She tossed her head back, and turned away. Then, by sudden impulse, she turned back, looking at the sound figure of her mother at rest. She crept in and stared at her, long hair curling around her silky face. She was beautiful. Trinity looked down, and gently kissed her on the left cheek. Maria made a bit of a 'mph' noise, and then rolled along back into her dream.
As she left, Trinity did not look back this time. She closed the door, carefully locked it, and head out of her appartement. She had places to go, and not enough time to live in the past. Although it went on for eternity, but there never seemed to be enough of it. She had to use it creativly. This time was hers.
"Gerroff!" Ron's muffled voice could be heard quite distintcly under the pile of cushions that had unfortunately fallen upon him. Dean Thomas, who had made them do so, laughed in delight, seeing the expression on the youngest Weasley son's face.
"Next time, you'll know not ta get into a pillow fight with me, right?" Dean chuckled, sweeping his wand so they made a delightful 'whomp'ing sound as they pounded him in the head.
It was late at night in the Griffendor common room, and, while waiting for Harry, the boys had gotten themselves into a tad of mischief. Only Hermione didn't seem to take this gleefully. She glared at Ginny, in hysterics, who's face was red as her hair.
"Oh, come offit now, I really don't think that's funny, really!" her expression was one of slight annoyance, but even she giggled, secretively, as Ron got hit yet another time. Parvati Patil sat next to Ginny, starring at the comical scene, in the same state.
"Oooo... stoppit.. Stoppit..." she clutched her side in pain.
Suddenly, Harry came, with a popping noise, out of the fire, much to Ron's delight. In the commotion of seeing what had happened, Dean had dropped his wand, and he was now free of his war.
"Who'd you see this time?" Ginny asked blushing, as Harry looked her way.
"Saini," he said, and as he got queer looks, he explained further. "You know, the girl, daughter of Parvati..."
"Parvati?" Parvati asked, wrinkling her nose. "Saini's mother was a prostitue... she was named Parvati?"
"Not a prostitue!" Harry said in anger. "Well, yes but.... it was because she cared so much about them, her kids!."
"A prostitue," she insisted, watching the red grow on his cheeks.
"No.... but kinda... oh well! She's dead, anyhow! You happy?!" he retorted.
"Oh great, so I'm a DEAD prostitute," she groaned and walked away. "I'm going off to bed."
Harry didn't care. He didn't even like telling Parvati, infact, he prefered to tell only Ron and Hermione, but Ginny, Dean, and her had found out in an accident. They were sworn not to tell, and anyways, they all seemed to enjoy how he told them about his adventures.
"India!" Ginny gasped as he had completed his tale. "I'd love to go there!" "It's a very beautiful place," Harry nodded, "and it's not all poor- like. They just show it like that in the media and all."
By now, thanks to Harry's great efforts to explain, they needn't question what 'media' was, which was very useful for him.
Just then, he glanced down at his watch.
"Well, I think I'll nip a bit to eat, and then I've got some business to attend to," he said casually.
"Can I come?" Ron asked hopefully. Hermione shot him a look.
Harry looked at Ron, and began to turn a thought he had been having, over and over in his mind. He decided now was the time to explain what he had been trying to for a while.
"I wish you could, Ron," he said. "Really, I wish everyone could. But I don't how how I do it, I just leave, and see them. I remember how one time, you were all able to come, we had the snowbal fight and all... I don't know how you did..."
"On their date?" Ron asked, grinning evily.
"They prefer to call it an 'outing,'" Harry smiled in the same way. "Yes, but really, I don't see it. Apparently, we're a book there."
"A book?" asked Hermione. "A book?! Like a biography?"
"No, not even," Harry shook his head. "Some lady named Mrs. JK Rowling seems to have.. Well.... Invented us! I think... I think she thinks she is dreaming up a plot, but really, somehow, there are connections in our head. So she thinks she just made up Hogwarts and all, but she doesn't know it actually exists. The book is considered 'fantasy' and 'fiction.'"
"That's creepy!" said Ginny, eyes wide.
"So she can tell every thought passing threw our head?" Dean asked in uncertainty. Harry nodded, and Ginny turned a very nice shade of scarlet. While they discussed it, she crept away, up to her dormitory. She had a bit of reading to do.
Normally, Ginny hated diaries. Ever since her first year when one almost killed her. She had never kept one, or never read one. Until now. What she had in her hands was an exact replica of Trinity's book, 'I Wrote This.' she peered down at the pages, watching the words being written, telling her everything that Trinity was doing. Suddenly, she had a thought.She had always thought Trinity had been a work of fiction, something from a book. But now she realised she was a simple book to Trinity. So which world was real? Her wizarding one, or the one in the book Trinity desrcibed? Could they both be on the same planet? Or were they merely on two different, yet identical ones? This made her brain sora, as she flipped threw the pages in awe and wonder.
"Keep at it, Trin," she whispered into the pieces of paper, wondering why she had done such a comical action.
It was about 8:30. Trinity muched on a bagel, to stop her aching stomach's growls for hunger. She knew she had to appologise, she had to. But she wasn't sure how. Could she do it? Where could she find the strength? Where was her encouragement? Suddenly, she felt alone and helpless, lost in a world that didn't care. Did what she did matter? Who was on her side?
A voice rang out from the cloud, almost answering her. She was a girl, about her age, friendly and sweet looking. She had firey red hair and a golden smile. It glowed as she faced her.
"Keep at it, Trin," she whispered, then disapeared.
Someone cared.
So.... it wasn't quite my usual style, with all the Harry's life and all, but still, was it good? Was it confusing? I'd love to know....
Thanks to all who reviewed. Seriously, it makes me happy to know that some people appreciate my work, and that what I post is not posted in vain. Thank you.
Chapter 13
Well.... here is my explination with the last chapter. After this ever-so- important message:
To the disclaimers: me no own.
-Imagine being able to dream the dreams of someone else. You would feel their joy or help bear the grief of their pain. Perhaps just having someone dreaming the same dream as you would be a comfort. Perhaps it would be a burden, having someone looking into your head. But are dreams real, or just images of a tired head, mere hallucinations? Are some real, or just a mixing of the imagination? There must be some purpose behind them, that no one really knows....-
Far away from India, in the notebook, was a untidy message scrawled by a girl named Trinity. A girl. Named Saini. Harry. Comes. To. Her.
"Ah," a sigh of relief came to Trinity Hope Angeloz as she splashed water gently on her face. It was cool andfreezing, brining her from other's lives into her own. At a very appropriate time of one in the morning, she started to study herself in the mirror. The dream... it faded in her head. She tried to keep it, but it was too hard. It drained out, spiralling down. Luckily, she had taken a few short notes. She splahed a bit more water. It was Friday night. No, now Saturday morning. She groaned as she stubbed her toe on the toilet. She sputtered at it, and wanted to punch something.
Punch.
Punch.
Punch.
Suddenly, it all came back, though six months ago. In November, she had lost one of the most important things to her. Now it was April, and springy. She missed it, but she was too mistrusting, too shy to ask for it back. It wasn't something she could could just steal. It was a... friend. She blushed in a mixture of embarrasment and anger.
"I thought we agreed, not to... think of him!" she hissed at no one but her reflection. Funny, she wasn't grinning evily... why was the girl in the mirror?
"You know why you don't want to think of him," she grinned. "You know. Because you LOVE him, that's why."
"I don't love him!" Trinity protested. "We're FRIENDS! Or we were, atleast. I don't love... Love just messes people up... like it did to Mom...."
Her voice trailed off. Her mother. She was so stressed these days, she hardly ever smiled. Trinity worried about her. She worked almost 24 hours a day, hardly having time to do anything but. She used to sew, but now she never did. Never enough money, never enough time. But why had she done this? Because even though there was no money and no time, there could never be no love. Maria, not to Trinity's knowing, had often thought of an orphanage. But it was illegal because of her current status, and she could never dream of life without Trinity. It was one of the things that had kept her going. If it hadn't been for the one person who had stayed with her, she might have thought of suicide. It was love that made her need her, but it was also love that made her want to give her away into a better life. Yet she knew that giving her away would make Trinity even more secretive and mistrusting, so she couldn't.
She splashed a bit more water. It helped her think clearly. She remebered the trial. It would be coming up soon. The divorce. Trinity knew she had to use the courage she had to get herself away from her father. Abuse would be forgotten. Her mother didn't want to mention it. It would create more trouble. She just want this to be in and out, with Trinity by her side. Her father would try to make himself look superior, like the better parent, but Trinity would not let this trick work. If they let her speak, she'd have her say. This was her moment. This was her time to be heroine. This time was hers.
Suddenly, another face appeared in the mirror. Not the one on her bathroom wall. The one in her mind. This was time for change. For a new begining. For an appology. She owed it to him. Collin.
His dirty blond hair and tanned skin wafted in her mind. This had been driving her crazy for all six months, right after the moment she had punched him. From the moment he had tried to touch her. She knew she had made a mistake. Insecurity did funny things to a troubled mind. She touched her stomach, and felt oddly queasy. She knew this would mean seeing Collin again. It couldn't be done by e-mail or MSN. She had to see him. It would be hard... but this was time for change.
She glanced at the clock. It was one thirty-five. So, knowing she could never get a wink of sleep, she brang her notebook out to the balcony and sat there, writing, loooking at the stars. The city was quiet and peaceful. She heard someone snoring sleepily, groaning and sighing gently in the early morning. There was the faint sounds of a baby crying in some, more distant part of the streets. The whole scene was very relaxing.
She picked up her pen, to try to make her beautiful dreams turn into words, and let others visualize, but it seemed impossible at this moment. She tapped her fingers on the paper, but nothing came. No images. She was only in one world, not both, like usual. This disturbed her greatly. Had she lost the gift that he life needed? Why had it gone away, and how? She pondered this for hours, sitting on the balcony, watching the rising sun, and letting the river of thoughts flow freely threw her head. She twisted a piece of her hair around with her finger, playing with an idea. It seemed like she had only one option. It was 8:07 am. If she left within ten minutes, it would be almost nine by the time she got to her destination. She walked, silently and gracefully inside. After flinging on what appeared to be a presentable outfit, throwing her pyjamas on the bed, and brushing her hair, she grabbed her bag and a light, spring jacket, to get on her way. Then, just as she was locking the door behind her, she rembered her sleeping mother.
Mom,
I need a bit of time to myself. Thanks for understanding.
I can't say when I'll be back, but I've got everything covered.
See you before supper,
-Trinity
She scrawled the hasty note and posted it on the door to her mother's room. She could hear a slight snore. The door opened a bit, and she peered inside to see her mother's small room, with not a bed, but a mattress, slightly elevated off the ground thanks to some odd platform she had managed to assemble. Maria was in peace, a look of complete satifaction on her face, like nothing had ever happened. Trinity half expected to see her father lying there beside her, before the abuse, before the pain. She remebered when she was very small, how she'd wake up early on the days he promised to take her somewhere; fishing, or to a carnival. How she'd bring in her books, sit by their bed, and read, waiting patiently for them to get up, sometimes waking them if they slept in too late for her liking, by jumping up and down at the foot of their bed.
A tear stung in the corner of her eye as she rembered what had once been considered her family, whe she had once felt an emotion called 'love' for her father. She hardly remebered this, but it had been so one time. Now she felt hatred... but he was still her father, and she could not erase the memory of the once cleanly-shave and bright smiling man, while the big imagination and the twinkling eyes, who gave the greatests hugs and was always there. But what had he become? An alcohol-addicted, overly- possesive, absuing husband. How could there had been such a change?
The tear stung more, but she blinked, and quickly wipped it away. It was obvious she was living in the past, which was a mirage she could drown in. She needed to concentrate on the current life. She tossed her head back, and turned away. Then, by sudden impulse, she turned back, looking at the sound figure of her mother at rest. She crept in and stared at her, long hair curling around her silky face. She was beautiful. Trinity looked down, and gently kissed her on the left cheek. Maria made a bit of a 'mph' noise, and then rolled along back into her dream.
As she left, Trinity did not look back this time. She closed the door, carefully locked it, and head out of her appartement. She had places to go, and not enough time to live in the past. Although it went on for eternity, but there never seemed to be enough of it. She had to use it creativly. This time was hers.
"Gerroff!" Ron's muffled voice could be heard quite distintcly under the pile of cushions that had unfortunately fallen upon him. Dean Thomas, who had made them do so, laughed in delight, seeing the expression on the youngest Weasley son's face.
"Next time, you'll know not ta get into a pillow fight with me, right?" Dean chuckled, sweeping his wand so they made a delightful 'whomp'ing sound as they pounded him in the head.
It was late at night in the Griffendor common room, and, while waiting for Harry, the boys had gotten themselves into a tad of mischief. Only Hermione didn't seem to take this gleefully. She glared at Ginny, in hysterics, who's face was red as her hair.
"Oh, come offit now, I really don't think that's funny, really!" her expression was one of slight annoyance, but even she giggled, secretively, as Ron got hit yet another time. Parvati Patil sat next to Ginny, starring at the comical scene, in the same state.
"Oooo... stoppit.. Stoppit..." she clutched her side in pain.
Suddenly, Harry came, with a popping noise, out of the fire, much to Ron's delight. In the commotion of seeing what had happened, Dean had dropped his wand, and he was now free of his war.
"Who'd you see this time?" Ginny asked blushing, as Harry looked her way.
"Saini," he said, and as he got queer looks, he explained further. "You know, the girl, daughter of Parvati..."
"Parvati?" Parvati asked, wrinkling her nose. "Saini's mother was a prostitue... she was named Parvati?"
"Not a prostitue!" Harry said in anger. "Well, yes but.... it was because she cared so much about them, her kids!."
"A prostitue," she insisted, watching the red grow on his cheeks.
"No.... but kinda... oh well! She's dead, anyhow! You happy?!" he retorted.
"Oh great, so I'm a DEAD prostitute," she groaned and walked away. "I'm going off to bed."
Harry didn't care. He didn't even like telling Parvati, infact, he prefered to tell only Ron and Hermione, but Ginny, Dean, and her had found out in an accident. They were sworn not to tell, and anyways, they all seemed to enjoy how he told them about his adventures.
"India!" Ginny gasped as he had completed his tale. "I'd love to go there!" "It's a very beautiful place," Harry nodded, "and it's not all poor- like. They just show it like that in the media and all."
By now, thanks to Harry's great efforts to explain, they needn't question what 'media' was, which was very useful for him.
Just then, he glanced down at his watch.
"Well, I think I'll nip a bit to eat, and then I've got some business to attend to," he said casually.
"Can I come?" Ron asked hopefully. Hermione shot him a look.
Harry looked at Ron, and began to turn a thought he had been having, over and over in his mind. He decided now was the time to explain what he had been trying to for a while.
"I wish you could, Ron," he said. "Really, I wish everyone could. But I don't how how I do it, I just leave, and see them. I remember how one time, you were all able to come, we had the snowbal fight and all... I don't know how you did..."
"On their date?" Ron asked, grinning evily.
"They prefer to call it an 'outing,'" Harry smiled in the same way. "Yes, but really, I don't see it. Apparently, we're a book there."
"A book?" asked Hermione. "A book?! Like a biography?"
"No, not even," Harry shook his head. "Some lady named Mrs. JK Rowling seems to have.. Well.... Invented us! I think... I think she thinks she is dreaming up a plot, but really, somehow, there are connections in our head. So she thinks she just made up Hogwarts and all, but she doesn't know it actually exists. The book is considered 'fantasy' and 'fiction.'"
"That's creepy!" said Ginny, eyes wide.
"So she can tell every thought passing threw our head?" Dean asked in uncertainty. Harry nodded, and Ginny turned a very nice shade of scarlet. While they discussed it, she crept away, up to her dormitory. She had a bit of reading to do.
Normally, Ginny hated diaries. Ever since her first year when one almost killed her. She had never kept one, or never read one. Until now. What she had in her hands was an exact replica of Trinity's book, 'I Wrote This.' she peered down at the pages, watching the words being written, telling her everything that Trinity was doing. Suddenly, she had a thought.She had always thought Trinity had been a work of fiction, something from a book. But now she realised she was a simple book to Trinity. So which world was real? Her wizarding one, or the one in the book Trinity desrcibed? Could they both be on the same planet? Or were they merely on two different, yet identical ones? This made her brain sora, as she flipped threw the pages in awe and wonder.
"Keep at it, Trin," she whispered into the pieces of paper, wondering why she had done such a comical action.
It was about 8:30. Trinity muched on a bagel, to stop her aching stomach's growls for hunger. She knew she had to appologise, she had to. But she wasn't sure how. Could she do it? Where could she find the strength? Where was her encouragement? Suddenly, she felt alone and helpless, lost in a world that didn't care. Did what she did matter? Who was on her side?
A voice rang out from the cloud, almost answering her. She was a girl, about her age, friendly and sweet looking. She had firey red hair and a golden smile. It glowed as she faced her.
"Keep at it, Trin," she whispered, then disapeared.
Someone cared.
So.... it wasn't quite my usual style, with all the Harry's life and all, but still, was it good? Was it confusing? I'd love to know....
Thanks to all who reviewed. Seriously, it makes me happy to know that some people appreciate my work, and that what I post is not posted in vain. Thank you.