Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me(except Reyana and her family and any other characters you don't recognize). It all belongs to J.K. Rowling.
-pays homage to the vastness of Rowling's imagination.-
Wish I could come up with something as cool as Harry Potter!
Credit for the title of this chapter goes to Garth Brooks.
Lightening flashed across the sky followed by a low rumble of thunder. The dark slate gray clouds roiled and towered over the sleeping town. Rain drizzled down from the sky, accompanied by more lightening and thunder. In a small house on the corner of its street, a young woman tried to get back to sleep. Thunder had always bothered her. She wasn't afraid exactly... just wary. She burrowed deeper under her thick comforter, letting her head slide beneath the blankets. It only took a few moments for her to get uncomfortably hot.
"Bollocks!" she swore rather halfheartedly.
Withdrawing from her nest of blankets, she eyed the clock on the nightstand with dislike. 5 am. Only the clinically insane were awake at this hour. Which, she supposed included her. However, she wasn't awake by choice, so she couldn't be categorized as completely insane. Somewhat insane, yes. How many nearly 18 year olds can say that they're still afraid of thunder? Not many. As if on cue, another roll of thunder filled the air, and the rain began in earnest. The heavy droplets falling on the windowpane and roof drowned out the sound of the thunder. In relief, the nearly 18 year old girl snuggled back down with her comforter and let the steady rain lull her back to sleep.
Black trees whipped in the wind and rain. I could hardly see 2 feet in front of me, but I knew I had to go on. His life depended on me. I pushed on, ignoring the rain pouring into my eyes and the scratches I had received from some particularly nasty trees. Exhaustion plagued me. I could barely put one foot in front of the other, and the decaying house that was my goal seemed no closer. Lightening flashed, giving me a momentary view of my path. It was not encouraging. There was no path. I was stumbling through this forest of blackness without a guide. I had lost the path. I was lost and I knew that I was going to die. Hopelessness filled me and I sank to the muddy ground. I had failed. I would never save him now. Anguish filled me and I screamed my despair to the uncaring sky.
Reyana bolted upright, and looked frantically around. Relief filled her as she realized that she was in her own room, in her own bed, and that thin sunlight poured through her window. It had just been a dream. A particularly vivid dream. But a dream nonetheless. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed and untangled herself from her sheets. An involuntary shiver iced down her spine as she thought of the dream. The despair still clung to her heart. It wasn't real! Reyana shook her long thick brown hair back, and shoved the dream to the very back of her mind. It wouldn't do to start the day in a bad mood. Work was likely to put her in a bad mood by the end of the day anyway. No reason to make it worse.
She sighed and padded barefoot to the closet. Sliding it open she pulled out her work uniform. Black slacks and a white polo shirt emblazoned with the company name did not make anyone look attractive. Especially not her. Stripping to her bra and panties, Reyana trudged down the hall to the bathroom.
"Eww!" a little boy covered his eyes and ran down the hall screaming, "I'm blind! I'm blind!"
Reyana sighed. Little brothers were a trial on the ego. She turned the water up as hot as she could stand and began her daily motivational ritual. It was sad that she had to convince herself to face each day. It wasn't as if her life sucked or anything. She had a good job, a nice caring family (Too caring she often thought. Who had a curfew of midnight? None of her friends that's for sure.), and plenty of opportunities. But she hated her life anyway. It was so boring and well... normal. Reyana got toweled off and dressed quickly, forcing her unruly hair into a messy bun. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her that if she didn't hurry, she'd miss breakfast, the one decent meal she'd get until her shift from hell was over. She hurried down the stairs to greet her family and more importantly, to eat!
By the time her 8 hour shift had ended, Reyana never wanted to see another jar of marmalade. Who knew that you could spend 3 hours stocking shelves with marmalade? Well, she'd never thought it possible until today. She practically ran out the back door of the store. Reyana took a deep full breath of the misty air. Ahh. Freedom. What a beautiful smell! A lopsided smile touched her lips. This was the happiest she ever was. The feeling of escaping hell was just exquisite! A large DHL truck went by splashing her with dirty gutter water. She glared at the yellow truck fading into the distance and made an obscene gesture. So much for her good mood. It would take a long time to get the stains out of her white polo. Damn.
Draco Malfoy glared at the groveling house elf in front of him.
"I wanted my steak medium rare, not charred to a BLOODY CRISP!" he shouted, his eyes cold as granite. He hurled the ruined meal at the shivering creature in front of him. The laced potatoes rained down, coating the elf with white goop. Draco snarled and gave the terrified elf a good kick to send it on its way.
The elf scurried away in relief and Draco sat back down on the emerald green chaise in his personal study. He glared at the leather bound book on the table next to him. Anyone who didn't know Draco Malfoy would have wondered what the book had done to warrant such a stare. But if you were unfortunate enough to know Draco Malfoy, you would know that he glared or smirked at everything. He never smiled, unless it was at someone else's misfortune. He rarely laughed, and usually only when a particularly loathsome prank was pulled on a Gryffindor.
With a grudging sigh, Draco picked up the book and opened it again to the title page.
"Dark Arts for the Aspiring Dark Wizard" by Vernon S. Evillé.
A scowl replaced the glare (and yes there is a difference). He was far beyond beginner magic. His father knew it, so why would he assign this piece of rubbish? Draco flipped through the pages. He snarled to himself. He already knew all of this! He was a Malfoy! He was born to this! He'd learned to read from a worn copy of "How to be a Villain-the Illustrated Version"
With a curse, he slammed the book shut and dropped it carelessly on the seat next to him.
"Draco!" a dangerously calm voice intruded.
Draco looked up to see his father standing in the doorway disapproval written all over his handsome face. He suppressed a shiver. For all his bravado, Draco Malfoy was a bit frightened of his father Lucius Malfoy.
"What is it Father?" he asked in a bored tone, a sneer marring his own good looks.
"I believe that I assigned you that book to read, not to mishandle." Lucius said fingering his wand.
"Yes Father, but," Draco paused, staring up at his father.
"But what?"
"But I already know all the spells and incantations! I don't wish to read them again! I want to learn more!" Draco rushed on.
"Know them all?" Lucius sounded amused. "Well then, I suggest we test your knowledge."
Draco lifted his head and met his father's eyes. He was a Malfoy. He would not feel fear.
With an arrogant shrug he uncurled from the chaise.
"Very well Father. But let's make this quick. My dinner is on the way."
Lucius only raised one silver eyebrow at his son. A glimmer of a smile touched his cold mouth. It was time to knock Draco down a peg or two.