Hmm, well here I am, so it seems. I have started another foolish venture of a story, though I should be finishing others . . . oh dear. --;;; We-e-e-e-ell, maybe people will actually like this one . . . Anywho, if you'd made it this far! THANK YOU! (blows kazoo)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Obviously. If you come to suspect me of making any money off of my horrid writing style, then I deem it time to lay off the LSD.
Lesson I: They call it a wasteland
unknown origin
is this the comfort of being afraid
solar eclipsed
black out the vultures
as they wait
- At the Drive In, "One-Armed Scissor"
Mutterings in the dark. Suppositions encased in black and a substance much deeper than anything.
Feeling herself become dizzy with apprehension, her petite feet betrayed her from the precarious balance. She had nothing to hold onto, or grab to steady herself from down down down, further than she had ever been before. Her body fell limply into the substance, as it cushioned her frail frame from breaking into pieces.
She felt herself thin and suddenly very delicate within the aching oblivion. Her hands drifted through the blackness--not really any sort of liquid at all (anymore?), but the arms that steadied her enough to think.
Whispers, hushes, giggles.
"Come here, my darling, come here . . . "
/Here? Where is here?/
Her lips did not form the words, but they were projected somehow all the same. It was something deeper than verbal communication, and it made her agonizingly curious. Unable to move from her blissful overwhelming of her senses, she drifted lazily; unseeing, unthinking.
It was much like swimming, but she was in a deeper, thicker melt than even chlorine-poisoned water. Nothing bit her eyes, either, not even sunlight.
Gradually, she noticed that things were lightening again, and all too soon she was coming back to herself again. Sighing, but not speaking, she felt she would have groaned and easily voiced her displeasure if sound was not so wretchedly out of place at the time.
From dark to black, from black to smoky gray.
" . . . Come to me . . . "
/Who are you?/ she thought, yet it was more than a simply thought.
A giggle echoed, somehow causing the world to ripple and accelerate the transition to lighter shades. She frowned.
/Are you someone I would like to meet?/
"You are the only one I would like to see."
It made sense, though her subconscious logic screamed in fits for the lack of sagacity. Her oddly profound curiosity silenced any hesitation with a wave and a thoughtless gesture in her mind.
Oh. Okay.
Something was trailing behind her; it tugged on her legs gently. Peering down to knees and ankles and toes, the black silk smoothly clung to calves and thighs. Such decadence seemed unnatural, somehow, but it felt so right. Everything felt perfectly as it should be.
The skirt drifted uncertainly, hanging much longer than it should, and as long as three of her, at least. Fading into everything among the absence of real, the too-long skirt and the unfamiliar dress seemed like a companion of the best sort. One that didn't comment, didn't talk back, and provided comfort without holding back.
The whiter hues began circling above and conjoining into light mist to tease her lack of purpose and tantalize her awe. It was a lovely sight.
"Almost . . . you have almost come . . . " it seemed rather joyous.
Something without substance, perhaps the eerie mist directed her upright again, yet the absence of thought and stress on her body had implanted itself without respite. She felt her head loll to the sides, and another wave of dizziness engulfed her enough to forget.
The skirt piled around her ankles conveniently. Though her feet were bare, she immediately discerned that treading upon the glory of her beautiful dress was forbidden.
It was solid under her feet. Feeling abruptly unaccustomed to the surety of the flooring, she nearly stumbled.
"Do not impair yourself, child. Do not worry yourself."
She smiled, feeling a bit more convinced of herself.
Her dainty, pointed foot trailed smoothly upward with a balance that she knew she had never possessed, yet she hesitated. Her toes remained poised above the surface of gloss and a gray that seemed to be illuminated underneath.
She didn't know why a step would seem to warrant such suspicion and forethought.
"Nothing will hurt you," the voice cooed "not under my careful, careful care."
Stepping once resolved her into a brisk pace. Individual strides became thoughtless and devoid of any mental hassle, arguing behind her eyes. She suddenly realized that she trusted the voice more than anything, and it wasn't such a horrid thought, really.
It was nice to have something to trust. Her pace quickened to a child-like skip, the dress obediently following behind her.
There was a sense in her mind that there were other things beyond the veil of mist, though she didn't encounter any. A meeting with one of the beings would have to wait, she decided quickly, now she just had to meet . . .
Her heart fluttered, and a gasp sounded unnaturally loud and destructive to the peace.
"You" she intoned with awe.
The figure opened up it's wide arms--still wide enough for her to fit.
"Kitten." The voice was sweet behind morbid-hung robes and a very secret appearance. It was trusting and relieved, strong and gentle, powerful and delicate. A matter of gender seemed of no importance, deeming 'male' or 'female' would render injustice.
Her luxurious outfit swirled behind her as she ran and felt herself swept up in the shrouded arms. An indescribable warmth graced her churning insides, and no worry weighted her shoulders to deaden her posture.
"I have not seen you for so long . . . " she whispered into the arms, overcome with emotion. And long it was . . . she had long since decided that the being was a fleeting dream, born of the overactive imagination of a small child.
Aging was dully troublesome, she concluded in her mind. She learned to doubt so much--the true magic of the world.
"Indeed." That strange voice held all the wisdom in the world to her. The arms positioned her away thoughtfully, leather gloves set to steady her by her arms. "You have grown, kitten."
She blushed self-consciously.
"A very long time." It echoed after a moment of silence.
"I missed you." She said, her lips tightening with worry.
It laughed, the most glorious laugh ever imaginable, as it echoed around the endless expanse and drifted as if it were faeries that controlled themselves with dances.
"And I you, my darling, my kitten, my child, my self."
She peered up to it in confusion, caught helplessly by the odd comment. Her brows furrowed.
The mist suddenly writhed and twisted in the opposite direction, as if going in rewind. The being sensed her confusion, and it allowed it's arms to drop to elegant swoops of draped darkness.
"My purpose." It bowed as if apologetically.
"Yes," she agreed, her voice ringing clearly with much purpose and little forethought "just exactly what are you?"
It laughed again.
"You do not remember? You understood long long long ago."
She frowned at it, trying to remember. "I can't seem to recall--"
A spindly sort of covered and shaded finger halted her recollections as it rested on her lips. She didn't dare to breathe.
"Hush now." It whispered gently. She was only four summers again, too young, too naïve, but obedient in learning from the reprimands of her thirst for knowledge.
"Hush . . . "
Everything went white, and she was blinded by her senses suddenly rearing to life again.
---
Hermione Granger awoke with a jolt; a bead of sweat dangling from her eyebrow.
"Hush . . . " she told herself.
/"For all of your acclaimed wisdom, you are still a child."/
The parting message lingered like molasses. She was too tired to think . . . she drifted back into unconsciousness, the quiet glow of moonlight caressing her face through the open window, as an evening breeze tickled the linen curtains.
A bit short, considering my usual standards, but hopefully enough to intrigue someone at the least. This is my first HP fic (it was there, but it dissapeared mysteriously, as things often do), naturally, so I have a very distanced, misplaced perception in a section I am quite unfamiliar with ;;;
I dearly hope that you are interested in this bare glimpse of the story. It would be greatly appreciated if you would review for me . . . heehee. We're all suckers for that sort of thing.
If this seems cliché to you, please notify me and I'll see what I can do. The last thing I'd like to do is to seem as though I am intentionally attempting to emulate another . . .
Thank you for reading thus far--I hope you like it enough to read the next posting! The next chapter should come out fairly soon, so . . . tell all your friends! lol
Oh, and PLEASE review? Even if you don't like it, I would like to know how I can make it better.
giggle