The Demons Hidden Within
Chapter 8: Howling Infinite
Posted: 12/22/03
"But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth . . . so better is it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the lee, even if that were safety!" -Herman Melville*
~*~*~
My sanity. I had never thought of it in such terms. Now, it always seemed lost to me, but really, I could control my mind and my thoughts. Though suffering mild confusion at times, I knew a reality and the line between sleeping and wake. The voices, I kept them at bay. And the shadows, though holding images, never came to life. Perhaps I could properly utilize a psychiatrist at times, yet nothing so extreme as insanity.
Directly after the fulfillment of the prophecy I suffered those delusions and hallucinations. I don't deny that I knew insanity then. Or, rather, I knew nothing and everything simultaneously. I screamed into the night, and my emotions knew no bounds. The shadows attacked and the voices never ceased to serenade me. But Oedipus pulled me out of that ravine which I only now glimpsed. The aspect of descending again was enough make my blood run cold.
There were times, in that burning darkness of night, where I felt insanity would be a better choice than the surrounding harshness. It would be so much more peaceful than the fight I kept up day by day. Somehow, though, the sun always rose, bringing with it a clear new dawn and new hope in the crimson lights.
But the dawn was late tonight.
Wandering the halls of my past distorted any semblance of time, and my emotions ran free from my control. An emptiness pushed on me as I tread a lonely path. That emptiness, so painful yet so numbing. Amazing, how I could feel such contradictions, and they seared all the sharper as I treaded the dim halls.
They whispered to me still, these halls, straining to tell me their secrets. Yet, the more I concentrated on the murmurs, the more indistinguishable they became. The more they retreated into the ageless stone. Ungraspable, ever on the edge of my consciousness.
I walked the halls, trailing these unheard secrets, pushing away the emptiness inside my soul. The Gray Lady passed as she had before, a phantom appearing out of the darkness. My concentration snapped away from the whispers as I looked on her form. She paid no heed to the intruder in her private domain; her empty eyes focused on the forgotten past. Her beauty caught in a forgotten age. Nameless, among all Hogwarts's ghosts, she held the most darkness in her soul.
I paused as she passed, and watched her form retreat into nothingness. My loneliness slightly lifted, not alone in my despair. Others have felt this pain before me, and though conditions change the pang remains the same. Though no one has looked into my soul, neither have I looked into the souls of others.
I pressed my body against the cold stone, closing my eyes, trying to will the walls to talk again and bid me forward as before. But their entrancements lay beyond recovery. The walls refused my reentrance, ceased their beckoning, and a surreal silence settled inside the halls. The enchantments still lingered; I sensed them just out of sight and hearing, refusing to show themselves now as the night came near to falling.
The sky was lightening outside, the stage between dark and dawn. I could not see it, no windows gave passage to the infinite, but years had given the ability to know the passage of the sun.
I turned quickly, leaving behind the tantalizing murmurs, and made the way I had come through the maze of passages.
Soon I was outside, next to the lake, watching the sunrise over the forest. My fears ebbed slightly; the shadows had passed yet again, as always is their wont.
Dumbledore's words lurked still: "The salvation of your sanity and of your soul."
The dawn, then, would someday not save me from my terrors. Yet, I still found comfort in knowing that a new day rose. There was still hope, forsaken as it seemed. There remained still another chance.
And with that sun, I chose the only path laid down before me. I accepted everything that had to be done; once more I would bow down to the will of fate. Yet, it was not for my own salvation, but for that of Sirius. Though he was gone behind the veil, I could still save his memory.
I had to save his memory . . . if only for Remus and myself. I, alone, had the power to do so.
But . . . I still faltered. Did I have the strength? Would Hogwarts indeed help me? The uncertainty bored into my resolve. And I became lost in the sunrise as I delayed facing any predestination.
A short scoff brought my eyes down from the indefinite sky, brought my thoughts crashing back to reality away from the places I longed and where I could not travel. For I knew that scoff from late night lessons: Snape. I knew his sound of irritation reserved only for when I disturbed his personal domain. It had greeted me when I knocked on his office door every night. Expressed only louder those nights I arrived uninvited, rare as they were.
After the initial jerk, I turned slowly to face him. A vision from the past who would know me the most yet care the least to show any compassion. For that, I did not much mind the intrusion into my waking dreams. He, alone, would offer no false hope and no pleading innocence. Those I did not want nor need.
"Yes?" I asked, no smile present but no scowl surfaced either. He never took to understand the respect I held for him, just as I had never fully searched his motives.
"Your attraction to late night wanderings still persists." His annoyed tone that he seemed to reserve only for my use had not diminished.
I glanced toward the rising sun. No longer did night persist, but the point was still the same. "Yours, as well," I answered, for Snape also shunned sleep. Our reasons nearly the same though neither of us had taken to notice prior, when I needed that person to assure me I was not alone. No matter, though, for that time of loneliness was gone with acceptance. It would serve no purpose for me to have someone understand now.
"I have my reasons." He gestured slightly to the dragon skin pouches in his hand and a scowl fixed on his face. "Soon they'll come with no tolerance, no grace, no respect. I need to have my supplies before they are trampled by the careless who joy at the word 'forbidden.'"
"Your reasons? And I don't have reasons here?" He raised an eyebrow at my question, causing me to smirk. Too many times had I seen and used the expression that its desired effect was lost on me. My smirk served to annoy him only farther.
"None valid that I can comprehend, Professor."
I let out a slight laugh: Professor? I had never expected that to be said without an accompanying sneer. Of course, I had also never expected him to initiate a conversation with the bloody Boy Who Lived. "Well, you never took much to comprehending me."
"As far as I am concerned, his memory can rot with his rashness."
The comment took me back, allowing my mask of indifference to fall. Apparently, Snape could still trick with his words.
"Had I taught you nothing? Muttering into the shadows, telling secrets to any willing to listen?" I noticed, once again, the disappointment showing through. Did he really care? Or was he merely concerned for his own teaching abilities?
I turned away, unable to look into his accusing glare. "You taught me more, Professor, than you can ever know. For, as loath are we both are to admit, we have worn the same through time."
"You would do well never to compare us. Gryffindor and Slytherin remain opposites, as you should remember."
I refused to turn back and face him, becoming lost in the flaming sky once more.
"Goodnight, Potter," Snape said, but I did not hear. Nor did I care to listen to the half-hidden uncharacteristic sigh, nor the slowly retreating steps.
Perhaps one day we could settle those unpaid debts, but I did not allow the sun to penetrate that hope. He was right, we would remain these opposites: Gryffindor and Slytherin. Though our paths were laid so close. At least there was that one certainty in my reality.
One last, fleeting glance toward the heavens before I turned to the castle and traced the path to my rooms, unconsciously seeking that sense of home. That sense of belonging. Though the people may have shunned me, the castle never betrayed. And it responded to my plea. She wrapped her arms around me and lay me beside Morpheus, giving me a peace that even potions could not bestow.
I awoke later by the light of the late afternoon shining through the window. I laid, nearly content, trying to fall once more into the enchantments of the castle and regain my home.
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: A random Merry Christmas!
Concern: Snape? Repetition?
*The quote is random for now, but I've been obsessed by "The Lee Shore," a little one page chapter of Moby-Dick and had to put it in cause I'm certain that it's seeped through. I also just love it and didn't want to forget to put it in a later chapter where it may apply more. Kudos to anyone who understands it, though: may seem slightly random out of context and I don't know many other people who obsess over Moby-D.
Current Musical Obsession: Dashboard Confessional
Whipped cream and thanks to the reviewers from last: Lady Lightning, Elise, Kristine Thorne, john, Mikito
Chapter 8: Howling Infinite
Posted: 12/22/03
"But as in landlessness alone resides the highest truth . . . so better is it to perish in that howling infinite, than be ingloriously dashed upon the lee, even if that were safety!" -Herman Melville*
~*~*~
My sanity. I had never thought of it in such terms. Now, it always seemed lost to me, but really, I could control my mind and my thoughts. Though suffering mild confusion at times, I knew a reality and the line between sleeping and wake. The voices, I kept them at bay. And the shadows, though holding images, never came to life. Perhaps I could properly utilize a psychiatrist at times, yet nothing so extreme as insanity.
Directly after the fulfillment of the prophecy I suffered those delusions and hallucinations. I don't deny that I knew insanity then. Or, rather, I knew nothing and everything simultaneously. I screamed into the night, and my emotions knew no bounds. The shadows attacked and the voices never ceased to serenade me. But Oedipus pulled me out of that ravine which I only now glimpsed. The aspect of descending again was enough make my blood run cold.
There were times, in that burning darkness of night, where I felt insanity would be a better choice than the surrounding harshness. It would be so much more peaceful than the fight I kept up day by day. Somehow, though, the sun always rose, bringing with it a clear new dawn and new hope in the crimson lights.
But the dawn was late tonight.
Wandering the halls of my past distorted any semblance of time, and my emotions ran free from my control. An emptiness pushed on me as I tread a lonely path. That emptiness, so painful yet so numbing. Amazing, how I could feel such contradictions, and they seared all the sharper as I treaded the dim halls.
They whispered to me still, these halls, straining to tell me their secrets. Yet, the more I concentrated on the murmurs, the more indistinguishable they became. The more they retreated into the ageless stone. Ungraspable, ever on the edge of my consciousness.
I walked the halls, trailing these unheard secrets, pushing away the emptiness inside my soul. The Gray Lady passed as she had before, a phantom appearing out of the darkness. My concentration snapped away from the whispers as I looked on her form. She paid no heed to the intruder in her private domain; her empty eyes focused on the forgotten past. Her beauty caught in a forgotten age. Nameless, among all Hogwarts's ghosts, she held the most darkness in her soul.
I paused as she passed, and watched her form retreat into nothingness. My loneliness slightly lifted, not alone in my despair. Others have felt this pain before me, and though conditions change the pang remains the same. Though no one has looked into my soul, neither have I looked into the souls of others.
I pressed my body against the cold stone, closing my eyes, trying to will the walls to talk again and bid me forward as before. But their entrancements lay beyond recovery. The walls refused my reentrance, ceased their beckoning, and a surreal silence settled inside the halls. The enchantments still lingered; I sensed them just out of sight and hearing, refusing to show themselves now as the night came near to falling.
The sky was lightening outside, the stage between dark and dawn. I could not see it, no windows gave passage to the infinite, but years had given the ability to know the passage of the sun.
I turned quickly, leaving behind the tantalizing murmurs, and made the way I had come through the maze of passages.
Soon I was outside, next to the lake, watching the sunrise over the forest. My fears ebbed slightly; the shadows had passed yet again, as always is their wont.
Dumbledore's words lurked still: "The salvation of your sanity and of your soul."
The dawn, then, would someday not save me from my terrors. Yet, I still found comfort in knowing that a new day rose. There was still hope, forsaken as it seemed. There remained still another chance.
And with that sun, I chose the only path laid down before me. I accepted everything that had to be done; once more I would bow down to the will of fate. Yet, it was not for my own salvation, but for that of Sirius. Though he was gone behind the veil, I could still save his memory.
I had to save his memory . . . if only for Remus and myself. I, alone, had the power to do so.
But . . . I still faltered. Did I have the strength? Would Hogwarts indeed help me? The uncertainty bored into my resolve. And I became lost in the sunrise as I delayed facing any predestination.
A short scoff brought my eyes down from the indefinite sky, brought my thoughts crashing back to reality away from the places I longed and where I could not travel. For I knew that scoff from late night lessons: Snape. I knew his sound of irritation reserved only for when I disturbed his personal domain. It had greeted me when I knocked on his office door every night. Expressed only louder those nights I arrived uninvited, rare as they were.
After the initial jerk, I turned slowly to face him. A vision from the past who would know me the most yet care the least to show any compassion. For that, I did not much mind the intrusion into my waking dreams. He, alone, would offer no false hope and no pleading innocence. Those I did not want nor need.
"Yes?" I asked, no smile present but no scowl surfaced either. He never took to understand the respect I held for him, just as I had never fully searched his motives.
"Your attraction to late night wanderings still persists." His annoyed tone that he seemed to reserve only for my use had not diminished.
I glanced toward the rising sun. No longer did night persist, but the point was still the same. "Yours, as well," I answered, for Snape also shunned sleep. Our reasons nearly the same though neither of us had taken to notice prior, when I needed that person to assure me I was not alone. No matter, though, for that time of loneliness was gone with acceptance. It would serve no purpose for me to have someone understand now.
"I have my reasons." He gestured slightly to the dragon skin pouches in his hand and a scowl fixed on his face. "Soon they'll come with no tolerance, no grace, no respect. I need to have my supplies before they are trampled by the careless who joy at the word 'forbidden.'"
"Your reasons? And I don't have reasons here?" He raised an eyebrow at my question, causing me to smirk. Too many times had I seen and used the expression that its desired effect was lost on me. My smirk served to annoy him only farther.
"None valid that I can comprehend, Professor."
I let out a slight laugh: Professor? I had never expected that to be said without an accompanying sneer. Of course, I had also never expected him to initiate a conversation with the bloody Boy Who Lived. "Well, you never took much to comprehending me."
"As far as I am concerned, his memory can rot with his rashness."
The comment took me back, allowing my mask of indifference to fall. Apparently, Snape could still trick with his words.
"Had I taught you nothing? Muttering into the shadows, telling secrets to any willing to listen?" I noticed, once again, the disappointment showing through. Did he really care? Or was he merely concerned for his own teaching abilities?
I turned away, unable to look into his accusing glare. "You taught me more, Professor, than you can ever know. For, as loath are we both are to admit, we have worn the same through time."
"You would do well never to compare us. Gryffindor and Slytherin remain opposites, as you should remember."
I refused to turn back and face him, becoming lost in the flaming sky once more.
"Goodnight, Potter," Snape said, but I did not hear. Nor did I care to listen to the half-hidden uncharacteristic sigh, nor the slowly retreating steps.
Perhaps one day we could settle those unpaid debts, but I did not allow the sun to penetrate that hope. He was right, we would remain these opposites: Gryffindor and Slytherin. Though our paths were laid so close. At least there was that one certainty in my reality.
One last, fleeting glance toward the heavens before I turned to the castle and traced the path to my rooms, unconsciously seeking that sense of home. That sense of belonging. Though the people may have shunned me, the castle never betrayed. And it responded to my plea. She wrapped her arms around me and lay me beside Morpheus, giving me a peace that even potions could not bestow.
I awoke later by the light of the late afternoon shining through the window. I laid, nearly content, trying to fall once more into the enchantments of the castle and regain my home.
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: A random Merry Christmas!
Concern: Snape? Repetition?
*The quote is random for now, but I've been obsessed by "The Lee Shore," a little one page chapter of Moby-Dick and had to put it in cause I'm certain that it's seeped through. I also just love it and didn't want to forget to put it in a later chapter where it may apply more. Kudos to anyone who understands it, though: may seem slightly random out of context and I don't know many other people who obsess over Moby-D.
Current Musical Obsession: Dashboard Confessional
Whipped cream and thanks to the reviewers from last: Lady Lightning, Elise, Kristine Thorne, john, Mikito