Author's note: This little thing finds its origin in a song, which i would like you to listen to in order to get a better idea of the kind of ambience i was trying to create.
Here it is: .com/track/40331 ( with deezer before the dot com). So be indulgent, and if there are any unforgivable grammatic errors, it's due to my innate frenchness.
Ye Olde Disclaimer: Rowling is a bloody genius and I don't intend to steal her work! Please don't sue me, I'm skint.
White.
All around her was white.
Never ending white,
Covering all, a deep blanket of snow had fallen. The cold was bitter, and dry. It was deep winter, this time of the year when light seems to have frozen on the way from the sun.
White.
As her mind, white. White and void. Robbed of all life.
The light wind whispered her Story in her ears, over and over, as the whisper of a friend long gone.
It told her of her demise, of their fall, and of what was gone.
The wind, the white, the snow.
And the girl, standing alone, a small black dot in the middle of the white, lost, not at its place.
But the girl didn't see the white around her, nor did she really hear the whispers of the wind.
She wasn't there, with the white, the snow, and the wind.
She was deep inside herself. Hidden. Away, away from the world. And it didn't seem like she was going to come out. The girl was far, far away. Too far to pay attention. Too far to care, to care for the snow, the wind, and the white.
She remembered.
Her mind was going in circles. Like the snow in the air, never touching ground.
She remembered the last weeks. She remembered how it all happened.
It had come suddenly. The clouds were in the sky for a long time, but the storm caught them unprepared. They didn't think it would be so quick, and so reckless. The Order was scattered all over the world, trying to contain the spread of the Dark. They were too few, too few. All went well until halloween. Of course, she had heard of people who disappeared, people who died, but it was war, wasn't it? Wasn't it?And then, after the holidays, it happened. They didn't know. There was no warning. It came like lightning, like blood spilling from a wound, like a cry. They attacked the train. A sudden darkness. The cold. And then the first blast. Chaos. The world turned upside down. Bitter taste of blood in her mouth. Screams.A moment after, light came back, only to bring more shock. All the dark silhouettes were coming towards what was left of the Express, awfully slow, as in slow motion she thought. She cried Run, and they followed her, even he who was so brave. The run through the woods. Only blurred shapes, the screams of the ones fallen, too slow.
Only five made it away.
Five.
Five. Five, the word echoed in the tunnel inside the girl.
And then began the long hide, the endless strive for shelter, the cold, the wet, the fear. They fled and fled and fled, not knowing what, what happened to the rest, what happened to the order, what happened.
One by one they went.
Little candles, blown away. Little lights, fading away.
It was white around the girl.
White.
Silent and cold. The wind whispered its words from the past.
She stood in the never ending snow.
White.