Y'know…I never really intended to write a sequel to Draika. The story never received much support, and had extremely little recognition even among those who did feel compelled to read it. All I know is that once the idea got in my head, I couldn't let it go. So now I burden you with yet another work of my mind. If I horribly kill any facts stated in the books, please let me know. I am using no references.
And I don't think I care about no one reviewing my stories anymore.
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~Unbarred Prisons~
Chapter One: Sparrows in Winter
It was winter. She could remember that much. Winter. The sun was warm, yet her room was cold…so cold. The little window that let in the light did little good to improve Draika's spirits - just a tiny screen showing her the world that she could never have. Sometimes she wished for a bed across the room, a bed that would not tease her with images of a real life. But what would that be? Giving up?
She stared listlessly up at the whitewashed ceiling, watching as a fly buzzed from corner to corner, searching for the way out. The noise was nearly deafening in the silence that she had become so used to. No incredibly recognizable thoughts drifted across her once-cunning mind; no plans of escape or havoc bubbling away under her placid exterior. St. Mungo's had changed her…or had she changed some time before? Everything was muddled together into one big memory, parts of her childhood intersecting with yesterday. When had her mother last sung her that lullaby? Just before lunch? Had she ever had a mother? Had it all been a dream?
The person in the bed against the far wall sat up, glazed eyes staring longingly towards the window. Her eyes flicked over to him, reading in him the same pain and listlessness that she knew must be in her own expression. She had never asked why he was in here…or talked at all, come to think of it. He had to be quite some years her senior, although his face was young. He had never talked to her, and Draika didn't think he ever would. People in her wing of the hospital didn't seem to be much for words. Tiring of his unblinking gaze, she turned back to the ceiling.
The forest had been her last glimpse of Hogwarts. She had awoken in the hospital, with healers swarming all around. She remembered screaming; running; fear…or had that been many years ago? Was the forest simply beyond that wooden door, waiting for her to come visit again? A disturbance in the corridor outside made her listen, made her attempt to sit up. Was someone trying to escape? Her thoughts were still slow, but she hoped it wasn't one of the older patients. It was always embarrassing to watch their feeble attempts.
"Now, really!" A Healer cried as the door to the room burst open, letting a group of black-robed witches and wizards swarm in. There had to be more than five, Draika guessed in bewilderment, trying to remain as still as possible, like sleep. Maybe they would overlook her; leave her alone…
"Draika." One of them knelt by her bed, a pale-faced witch with violet hair hanging in her bright green eyes. "Draika?" The others were standing back respectfully, large hoods obscuring their features. The Healer went on yapping about how they weren't allowed; they had to check in, not come barging in; the patients needed calm and order…she went unnoticed.
The witch held out her hand to the sleeping girl, but not for her to grasp. A brown sparrow was perched on her open palm, gazing quizzically at Draika. He peeped, pecking at her nose. The unexpected pain threw her disguise as she opened her startlingly golden eyes, beginning to tinge with the red of strain and overuse. Obviously pleased with the reaction he had gotten, the sparrow proceeded to meticulously preen what little bit of hair fell in her eyes.
"Kiba…" Draika mumbled, eyes now half-lidded. She reached out a finger to stroke his head. Her eyes finally focused on the witch, who was barely into her twenties. "…Stelmaria?"
The witch's already bright eyes lit up with happiness, letting the sparrow hop onto the bedridden girl's hand. Looking back at those who accompanied her, she gestured for them to come forwards.
"We wrote to you," Said one, drawing back his hood to reveal a messy mop of bright red hair and pale grey eyes belonging to a boy that couldn't have been over sixteen. "but you never replied…so Stel made us all come on a gallant rescue mission to Hogwarts."
"She was mortified," Laughed another, a witch with frizzy black hair and brown eyes, sitting on the edge of her bed. "to hear that they'd shipped you off to Mungo's."
"She nearly took the Headmaster's head off, din'ya, Stel?" A ruddy-faced wizard about Stelmaria's age with short copper hair and bewildered blue eyes pushed the violet-haired witch jokingly. "Hey, Trellich, show 'er the travel bill. Might wake 'er up a bit."
Indeed, Draika's mind was slow to comprehend all that was happening. The Healer had left, seeing that the visitors were friendly enough and her patient was not in any danger that she could see. They were friends…had she met them last week? Or perhaps years ago, when her life had been carefree and wild?
"What's wrong with her?" A solidly built wizard with lime green hair and chocolate brown eyes bent over her, lifting a drooping eyelid to peer into her iris. "They've probably been putting some kind of sedative in her food…where'd that Healer go?" He rushed out the door, followed by two of the hooded figures.
The only remaining person stayed back, as if afraid and awkward, or simply embarrassed. Draika blinked, looking at the ones who surrounded her.
"I thought…" She cast her eyes over the group yet again, realizing she could place each concerned face with a name. "Stelmaria, Xeran, Wren, Jasper…and Basil." The words took more energy than she could remember. "You forgot me."
"Forgot?" The copper-haired Jasper smirked. "How could we forget, when you nearly held a knife to our throats to make us promise that we would write?"
"And we did…just a mention of your name would have us scurrying for quills and parchment." Wren, the frizzy-haired witch, grinned. "You never cease to inspire terror in our hearts."
Stelmaria scooped the sparrow Kiba off of Draika's forehead, transferring him to her shoulder so she could prop Draika up using her cloak and a pillow for support.
"She's pretty down." Her voice was tense. "Even if we can get her out, it'll be days before this stuff wears off…whatever it is."
"And…the rest?" Draika mumbled, watching through the open door as Basil and his two hooded friends questioned the terrified healer. The lime-haired wizard shrugged, leading the other two back into the room.
"She says it's nothing much…just standard medicine for all trauma patients." He snorted. "If I ever believe that…"
Stelmaria turned, frowning at the interruption. "Draika, you wouldn't have met the Trellich twins before…they just transferred."
The twins lowered their hoods as she waved a hand dismissively…but they didn't look like twins at all. One was a tall wizard, his long silver hair in a ponytail so it would not fall in his black eyes. The other was a stumpy witch, mouse-brown hair falling limply around her chubby face. Her honey-colored eyes were eager.
"Pegasus and Dia, respectively." Basil told his old friend.
Draika smiled distantly. Stelmaria was the oldest, although it was hard to believe. She knew none of the others would be over nineteen, but Basil would be twenty in January…she shook her head, trying to keep her thoughts together.
"C'mon, Aeger, she won't have forgotten you." Xeran raised an eyebrow with a quirky grin, dragging the only person that had not yet removed his disguise. Draika's year mate rolled his eyes, pulling the hood off of the reluctant wizard's face.
Like Basil and Stelmaria, his hair was dyed a particularly noticeable color: neon orange. Messy and uneven fringe spilled over his turquoise eyes as he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. Obviously the youngest of the group, he looked around nervously.
"Damien." Draika nodded, dredging the name up from her mind. She took a breath in, looking over at the person who shared the room with her. His back was turned as he read a book, forcing himself to ignore the fact that he had no visitors, and probably never would.
Before she could say anything else, Stelmaria hooked her elbow under Draika's, Basil doing the same thing to her left arm. They managed to get the bewildered girl to stand awkwardly on the tile floor, claws that desperately needed trimming skidding hopelessly on the slick surface.
"All right…" Stel said reassuringly, letting her younger friend lean on her for support. "Basil's talked it all over with your Healer…we've managed to rent a small flat in town. Damned Muggle money…"
"…Hogwarts?" Draika was stunned, asking the main word of the question that popped into her mind. The school…was she going back? She still wanted to know who had found her; put her in her invalid's cell.
"No…" Xeran held the door open for the awkward pair, waiting until they had all exited before following them himself. "We're going to get you back to Romania, where you belong."
And I don't think I care about no one reviewing my stories anymore.
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~Unbarred Prisons~
Chapter One: Sparrows in Winter
It was winter. She could remember that much. Winter. The sun was warm, yet her room was cold…so cold. The little window that let in the light did little good to improve Draika's spirits - just a tiny screen showing her the world that she could never have. Sometimes she wished for a bed across the room, a bed that would not tease her with images of a real life. But what would that be? Giving up?
She stared listlessly up at the whitewashed ceiling, watching as a fly buzzed from corner to corner, searching for the way out. The noise was nearly deafening in the silence that she had become so used to. No incredibly recognizable thoughts drifted across her once-cunning mind; no plans of escape or havoc bubbling away under her placid exterior. St. Mungo's had changed her…or had she changed some time before? Everything was muddled together into one big memory, parts of her childhood intersecting with yesterday. When had her mother last sung her that lullaby? Just before lunch? Had she ever had a mother? Had it all been a dream?
The person in the bed against the far wall sat up, glazed eyes staring longingly towards the window. Her eyes flicked over to him, reading in him the same pain and listlessness that she knew must be in her own expression. She had never asked why he was in here…or talked at all, come to think of it. He had to be quite some years her senior, although his face was young. He had never talked to her, and Draika didn't think he ever would. People in her wing of the hospital didn't seem to be much for words. Tiring of his unblinking gaze, she turned back to the ceiling.
The forest had been her last glimpse of Hogwarts. She had awoken in the hospital, with healers swarming all around. She remembered screaming; running; fear…or had that been many years ago? Was the forest simply beyond that wooden door, waiting for her to come visit again? A disturbance in the corridor outside made her listen, made her attempt to sit up. Was someone trying to escape? Her thoughts were still slow, but she hoped it wasn't one of the older patients. It was always embarrassing to watch their feeble attempts.
"Now, really!" A Healer cried as the door to the room burst open, letting a group of black-robed witches and wizards swarm in. There had to be more than five, Draika guessed in bewilderment, trying to remain as still as possible, like sleep. Maybe they would overlook her; leave her alone…
"Draika." One of them knelt by her bed, a pale-faced witch with violet hair hanging in her bright green eyes. "Draika?" The others were standing back respectfully, large hoods obscuring their features. The Healer went on yapping about how they weren't allowed; they had to check in, not come barging in; the patients needed calm and order…she went unnoticed.
The witch held out her hand to the sleeping girl, but not for her to grasp. A brown sparrow was perched on her open palm, gazing quizzically at Draika. He peeped, pecking at her nose. The unexpected pain threw her disguise as she opened her startlingly golden eyes, beginning to tinge with the red of strain and overuse. Obviously pleased with the reaction he had gotten, the sparrow proceeded to meticulously preen what little bit of hair fell in her eyes.
"Kiba…" Draika mumbled, eyes now half-lidded. She reached out a finger to stroke his head. Her eyes finally focused on the witch, who was barely into her twenties. "…Stelmaria?"
The witch's already bright eyes lit up with happiness, letting the sparrow hop onto the bedridden girl's hand. Looking back at those who accompanied her, she gestured for them to come forwards.
"We wrote to you," Said one, drawing back his hood to reveal a messy mop of bright red hair and pale grey eyes belonging to a boy that couldn't have been over sixteen. "but you never replied…so Stel made us all come on a gallant rescue mission to Hogwarts."
"She was mortified," Laughed another, a witch with frizzy black hair and brown eyes, sitting on the edge of her bed. "to hear that they'd shipped you off to Mungo's."
"She nearly took the Headmaster's head off, din'ya, Stel?" A ruddy-faced wizard about Stelmaria's age with short copper hair and bewildered blue eyes pushed the violet-haired witch jokingly. "Hey, Trellich, show 'er the travel bill. Might wake 'er up a bit."
Indeed, Draika's mind was slow to comprehend all that was happening. The Healer had left, seeing that the visitors were friendly enough and her patient was not in any danger that she could see. They were friends…had she met them last week? Or perhaps years ago, when her life had been carefree and wild?
"What's wrong with her?" A solidly built wizard with lime green hair and chocolate brown eyes bent over her, lifting a drooping eyelid to peer into her iris. "They've probably been putting some kind of sedative in her food…where'd that Healer go?" He rushed out the door, followed by two of the hooded figures.
The only remaining person stayed back, as if afraid and awkward, or simply embarrassed. Draika blinked, looking at the ones who surrounded her.
"I thought…" She cast her eyes over the group yet again, realizing she could place each concerned face with a name. "Stelmaria, Xeran, Wren, Jasper…and Basil." The words took more energy than she could remember. "You forgot me."
"Forgot?" The copper-haired Jasper smirked. "How could we forget, when you nearly held a knife to our throats to make us promise that we would write?"
"And we did…just a mention of your name would have us scurrying for quills and parchment." Wren, the frizzy-haired witch, grinned. "You never cease to inspire terror in our hearts."
Stelmaria scooped the sparrow Kiba off of Draika's forehead, transferring him to her shoulder so she could prop Draika up using her cloak and a pillow for support.
"She's pretty down." Her voice was tense. "Even if we can get her out, it'll be days before this stuff wears off…whatever it is."
"And…the rest?" Draika mumbled, watching through the open door as Basil and his two hooded friends questioned the terrified healer. The lime-haired wizard shrugged, leading the other two back into the room.
"She says it's nothing much…just standard medicine for all trauma patients." He snorted. "If I ever believe that…"
Stelmaria turned, frowning at the interruption. "Draika, you wouldn't have met the Trellich twins before…they just transferred."
The twins lowered their hoods as she waved a hand dismissively…but they didn't look like twins at all. One was a tall wizard, his long silver hair in a ponytail so it would not fall in his black eyes. The other was a stumpy witch, mouse-brown hair falling limply around her chubby face. Her honey-colored eyes were eager.
"Pegasus and Dia, respectively." Basil told his old friend.
Draika smiled distantly. Stelmaria was the oldest, although it was hard to believe. She knew none of the others would be over nineteen, but Basil would be twenty in January…she shook her head, trying to keep her thoughts together.
"C'mon, Aeger, she won't have forgotten you." Xeran raised an eyebrow with a quirky grin, dragging the only person that had not yet removed his disguise. Draika's year mate rolled his eyes, pulling the hood off of the reluctant wizard's face.
Like Basil and Stelmaria, his hair was dyed a particularly noticeable color: neon orange. Messy and uneven fringe spilled over his turquoise eyes as he sighed, shrugging his shoulders. Obviously the youngest of the group, he looked around nervously.
"Damien." Draika nodded, dredging the name up from her mind. She took a breath in, looking over at the person who shared the room with her. His back was turned as he read a book, forcing himself to ignore the fact that he had no visitors, and probably never would.
Before she could say anything else, Stelmaria hooked her elbow under Draika's, Basil doing the same thing to her left arm. They managed to get the bewildered girl to stand awkwardly on the tile floor, claws that desperately needed trimming skidding hopelessly on the slick surface.
"All right…" Stel said reassuringly, letting her younger friend lean on her for support. "Basil's talked it all over with your Healer…we've managed to rent a small flat in town. Damned Muggle money…"
"…Hogwarts?" Draika was stunned, asking the main word of the question that popped into her mind. The school…was she going back? She still wanted to know who had found her; put her in her invalid's cell.
"No…" Xeran held the door open for the awkward pair, waiting until they had all exited before following them himself. "We're going to get you back to Romania, where you belong."
