ALIUS EGO ALIUS RUDIMENTUM
CHAPTER IV
I should be cleaning my room. But my mom is 2000 miles away and she cant make me. So the room cleaning can wait. So can studying for the stupid tests that are plaguing my existence. Okay, studying can't wait, but it is going to, so there!
I don't own it, I never will, and I'm okay with that.
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Briara was flying. No, not flying, more like hovering. Flying involved movement from one place to another. All she was doing was sitting in one place, well hovering in one place. Speaking of places, where the hell was she?
It was grey as far as the eye could see. It had been the same way the entire time she had been floating there. She started to concentrate on her surroundings. Maybe if she looked harder she could make something out. The overpowering single shade of grey that surrounded her on all sides began to take shape. The dull color shifted and bended into itself, leaving some areas lighter while the grey deepened in other spaces forming shadows of objects that where there and yet . . . not so. The harder she looked the more the surroundings beneath her started to appear familiar. If she squinted her eyes she could now just barely make out the shapes the converging grey was making.
Directly beneath her were three familiar goalposts. Across the way she could see the matching set. Well, now she knew where she was, now onto the next questions. Why was she floating, and why was everything grey and fuzzy like a black and white wizarding photo that had gotten soaked in water?
She couldn't sense any magic that was holding her in the air. So that ruled out wingardium leviosa. She wasn't on a broom. No cables or ropes were holding her up. So just how was she up here? Nothing unnatural seemed to be keeping her there, maybe something had changed about herself. What did she know of that floated like she was doing now? Ghosts.
But she couldn't be a ghost, could she? What was the last thing she remembered doing before she got here? It was mostly a blank. She had gotten up, eaten breakfast (a glass of orange juice and two pieces of toast with raspberry preserves, and of course, the usually lemon filled doughnut,) and classes had been as boring as ever. She was missing something important, she knew that much, but what?
VOLDEMORT! How in the world could she have forgotten that little detail? He and his murder buddies had attacked during dinner. They had entered the grounds from the Northwest corner just past the Pitch over which she was now hovering. And she had gone out to fight him. And she had won, or so she thought. Not many people could withstand being run through with a sword.
But if she had beaten him, why was she here? Had Voldemort killed her before he had died himself? He had said something, hadn't he, just before she blanked out? Was she dead? It was certainly possible.
But then why was she a ghost? Ghosts were mad when a person is so afraid of death that the stay in the living plane after there true lives are over. Briara had no fear of death. She didn't want to die, but she certainly didn't fear it. It was just a part of life. The last great adventure.
But being a ghost didn't explain the dull grey that was everywhere around her. As far as she knew, ghosts could see in color. Nearly Headless Nick had complemented her on a new maroon blouse that she had worn one day. He had said the color reminded him of a gown his mother had worn when he was little.
And if she was dead, where was everyone that had survived? Shouldn't she be able to see them caring for the wounded and burying the bodies of the dead? All the ghosts she had met seemed to be able to see and interact with the living. She couldn't see a single person anywhere within sight.
Maybe there had been some sort of transition period between death and . . . whatever it was that she was now. That would explain it. Now she just needed to go find someone and see if her friends were still alive. After all, it didn't really matter if she was dead, so long as Voldemort was dead too, all that mattered were her friends and family.
Briara stood up from the cross-legged position in which she had been sitting, er, hovering. Cautiously, she tried taking a few steps in the direction of the castle. So far so good. It was kinda creepy walking fifteen meters above the ground, but she was getting where she needed to be.
While she had been lost in her thoughts the world had taken on more definition. It looked now more like a grey watercolor painting of the Hogwarts Grounds as opposed to a water damaged picture.
When she reached the front entrance, she realized she had a problem. Briara was way above the top of the doors leading into the castle. How in the world was she supposed to get into the castle? She happened to be floating at a height exactly between to levels of the castle so none of the windows could gain her admittance either.
Well, she'd just have to figure out how to get down to ground level. She did the only thing she could think of and began willing herself to float gently downward. Emphasis on the gently, even if she was dead she didn't want to plummet all the way to the ground. Surprisingly it worked, and Bri let silently sighed when her toes where hovering centimeters above the ground as opposed to meters. Now she could go through the front doors.
Tentatively she pressed her hand to the door, and when she actually made contact with the solid material, pushed the doors open just enough for her to squeeze in.
It was nighttime, or so Briara had guessed by the dark grey color of the sky outside, so she didn't expect anyone to be roaming the hallways. The infirmary would be a good place to start looking for people, she decided Madame Pomfrey will most likely be awake tending to the injured from the battle.
Silently gliding/walking through the empty halls, Bri wound her way to the infirmary. Pushing open the doors she expected to see the place filled to the brim with spare cots holding the injured. Surprisingly, there was only one bed surrounded by closed curtains that seemed to be occupied.
Curiously, she moved over to the bed and pushed back the curtains.
Had her jaw not been attached to her face it would have dropped to the floor. There on the bed in front of her in full resplendent color was her own body, the chest rising and falling slowly under the grey sheets.
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This was a bit shorter than the others, but I really should be studying, so I have a good excuse. It may also look shorter due to the lack of dialogue and use of larger paragraphs.