The gentle rays of dawn filtered through the window casting the shadows to
the corners and warming the sleeping form that lay sprawled on the bed. A
groan escaped the lips of the sleeping figure and she flipped on to her
other side, chestnut hair blocking the stubborn light that seemed
determined to get a rise out of her. As the sun lazily rose the light
successfully managed to sneak up to her face and with an angry growl, her
eyes fluttered open, squinting in a pathetic attempt of a glare. "ugh,
dammit, fine you win!" she said with vehemence as she tottered on unsteady
feet.
Padding towards the bathroom she stared at her reflection. And
stared. Then stared some more. Cocking her head to the side she tried
again. No difference, none at all. Tousled, bushy, chestnut curls stuck in
all directions, caramel eyes that drifted closed every few seconds, full
lips, rosy cheeks and a long neck. Unfortunately for her, that wasn't what
she saw. As far as she was considered she thought she saw a half formed
brown afro, brown eyes, giraffe neck and all in all something despicable.
With a halfhearted sigh she trudged for the shower.
"Guess what they say about change happening over night is bullshit.
Oh well." Pulling open the shower curtain with excessive eagerness, it
squealed at the injustice scarping against the metal pole.
As the small bathroom filled with steam it also filled with song, the
melody mournful. It was a strong contrast to the overall setting, pink
curtains tied with a flourishing bow framed the small window, and the white
counter was littered with roses, every colour and size. The large mirror
fogged over and dimly reflected the beige walls, fluffy pink rug and bubble
covered shower curtain.
"Teach me passion for I fear it's gone
Show me love, hold the lorn
So much more I wanted to give to the ones who love me
I`m sorry
Time will tell (this bitter farewell)
I live no more to shame nor me nor you
And you... I wish I didn`t feel for you anymore...
A lonely soul... An ocean soul..."
Slowly her voice died away to but a whisper, the rushing of water drowning out lyrics. How she wished for something more, something, anything. The heart yearns for many things, indecipherable and yet so starkly acute in its want.
She sat on the bed wrapped in her blue bathrobe almost unseen as she sunk into the feather down covers. Flipping though her books she couldn't help but wonder how this year would transpire. She had received the letter from Hogwarts, she was Head Girl, and she didn't expect anything less. It was a given, she could imagine how the gossips would react if Hermoine Granger, the know-it all bookworm had been succeeded. She'd packed the day before, glancing at the clock that glowed with lime green numbers she yawned. 6:45 am. "Bloody ridicules, you'd think the sun would have at least a margin of decency to wake me up at 7:00." Hermoine growled. Slowly she began to get dressed; maybe it wouldn't hurt to dress up a little she thought. Skipping down the stairs Hermoine hugged her dad as she grabbed a doughnut off a green tray. The Kitchen was a merry place, the light danced over the counters and pans that hung along the wall. Denim Blue curtains hung in a leisurely manner as a bird peered through the panes at the small, round table that was dominated by a fruit bowl. The fruit bowl was her mother's pride, but in her opinion it was by far the most awkward, shapeless and demented thing to have been created next to abstract art. On the other hand, it could only be described as, well, abstract. It clashed terribly with everything, its brilliant colours blinded anyone who was stupid enough to try to discern the looping designs that covered the surface, to add to that it was huge. A washtub could've competed with it, and the poor table practically wobbled under the weight, a one of a kind piece of "art" that had been created by a madman. She had tried to convince her mother to get rid of it, but no. It was 'special' handed down for generations, the trademark of the Granger family. They were easily known by two names the insanely smart family or the family with that horrendous fruit 'bowl'. Wincing at it one last time she gratefully got into the Plymouth, she missed school, it was a place where she felt almost complete, burying herself in her studies, and being with Harry and Ron.
Arriving at platform 9 ¾ Harry and Ron greeted her with overzealous hugs and they boarded the train. The scenery flashed by in vivid greens and flashing browns before the golden trio even noticed the train had pulled into a stop at Hogwarts, and everyone made their to the great hall. A/N: lyrics belong to nightwish and Harry Potter and all contents belong to J.K. Rowling
"Teach me passion for I fear it's gone
Show me love, hold the lorn
So much more I wanted to give to the ones who love me
I`m sorry
Time will tell (this bitter farewell)
I live no more to shame nor me nor you
And you... I wish I didn`t feel for you anymore...
A lonely soul... An ocean soul..."
Slowly her voice died away to but a whisper, the rushing of water drowning out lyrics. How she wished for something more, something, anything. The heart yearns for many things, indecipherable and yet so starkly acute in its want.
She sat on the bed wrapped in her blue bathrobe almost unseen as she sunk into the feather down covers. Flipping though her books she couldn't help but wonder how this year would transpire. She had received the letter from Hogwarts, she was Head Girl, and she didn't expect anything less. It was a given, she could imagine how the gossips would react if Hermoine Granger, the know-it all bookworm had been succeeded. She'd packed the day before, glancing at the clock that glowed with lime green numbers she yawned. 6:45 am. "Bloody ridicules, you'd think the sun would have at least a margin of decency to wake me up at 7:00." Hermoine growled. Slowly she began to get dressed; maybe it wouldn't hurt to dress up a little she thought. Skipping down the stairs Hermoine hugged her dad as she grabbed a doughnut off a green tray. The Kitchen was a merry place, the light danced over the counters and pans that hung along the wall. Denim Blue curtains hung in a leisurely manner as a bird peered through the panes at the small, round table that was dominated by a fruit bowl. The fruit bowl was her mother's pride, but in her opinion it was by far the most awkward, shapeless and demented thing to have been created next to abstract art. On the other hand, it could only be described as, well, abstract. It clashed terribly with everything, its brilliant colours blinded anyone who was stupid enough to try to discern the looping designs that covered the surface, to add to that it was huge. A washtub could've competed with it, and the poor table practically wobbled under the weight, a one of a kind piece of "art" that had been created by a madman. She had tried to convince her mother to get rid of it, but no. It was 'special' handed down for generations, the trademark of the Granger family. They were easily known by two names the insanely smart family or the family with that horrendous fruit 'bowl'. Wincing at it one last time she gratefully got into the Plymouth, she missed school, it was a place where she felt almost complete, burying herself in her studies, and being with Harry and Ron.
Arriving at platform 9 ¾ Harry and Ron greeted her with overzealous hugs and they boarded the train. The scenery flashed by in vivid greens and flashing browns before the golden trio even noticed the train had pulled into a stop at Hogwarts, and everyone made their to the great hall. A/N: lyrics belong to nightwish and Harry Potter and all contents belong to J.K. Rowling
