It Was Never Supposed to Be Easy
A Meeting in the Candlelight
Waking up is a difficult thing to do, especially if you’ve just woken up after a long, hard cry. By the time I finally opened my eyes the sun was casting long, golden beams of light into my room. I lay in my bed, sleepy and far from content and I watched the sun give out its last hurrah before dying into the night.
My stomach growled, reminding me of my own mortality and I struggled out of bed, somehow in my sleep, I had managed to squirm under the covers and now I was completely tangled in my robes, the blanket wrapped around my legs in a death grip. I ripped myself away, leaving the blanket askew on the stone floor and I groped for the door in the pale light.
The hum of voices and the dim ring of laughter floated up to greet me as I stepped onto the landing. I paused, listening to the voices of my fellow Gryffindors and I wished more than anything that I was down there with them. Happy, carefree, and well-fed. My stomach growled again and I slowly began my descent. I felt so strange, like a once beloved queen going to her death. I took the stairs lightly, one hand trailing along the iron railing until I finally reached the bottom. And then I stepped into the light.
For the first time, I realized just how hard it had been for Harry. As soon as the people closest to the stairs saw me, they fell quiet. As the room slowly filtered into nothing I stood there, framed by the archway, and I stared back at them. Their eyes were dark, shadowed by the fire and as I stared at them, they flicked away from me. Away and back. Like I was a leper. Something to be stared at. Something shameful.
I hesitated for a moment longer and then I crossed the room. I walked slowly. I stood tall and did not let them see my tears. I could feel them staring at me, and I could hear the hiss of rumors already being passed around. Did these teenagers have no shame? I continued my death march until I reached the portrait hole and I passed through. Then I began to run.
I ran all the way to the Entrance Hall and then I collapsed on the bottom step, exhausted, and clutching a stitch in my side. I did not realize that I was no longer alone until I heard a slight clearing of a throat and I looked up.
Malfoy was standing at the far end of the hall next to a tall figure, still hooded. I started in surprise and then felt a twinge of annoyance that once again, he had managed to catch me at my weakest. The figure was slender underneath its dark hood and I could not make out a face. Only the gleam of the eyes as they caught the candlelight. The figure slowly turned to face me and then it drew near. I stood, scared, what was going on? Who was this and why were they in Hogwarts?
The figure approached, closer, and then it was a foot in front of me. I could hear the sound of its breath and I saw a hand reach out from the inside of the cloak. A long, spidery hand. Pale as snow, the fingers thin and fragile. And as fragile as the fingers appeared to be, I knew, there was a power in them that I, or any sane person, would not want to experience.
The hand threw back its hood and I gasped.
It was Draco Malfoy’s mother.
Narcissa Malfoy stood in front of me in all of her icy beauty and she looked at me with an expression that I could not quite place.
“You, are the girl my son speaks so…highly about.” her voice was soft and hoarse. Almost throaty.
I blinked. It was not a question.
“How do you do?” I asked, politely.
She looked at me with an odd smile and then replied, “How does one do anything?”
The strange answer left me stunned and I continued staring at her. Her eyes were the same gray blue as Draco’s were. But there was something in them. A strange, triumphant gleam. As if they held secrets that were to be kept from me.
I think, more than anything, it was those secrets that scared me.
She smiled once more and then beckoned to her son with a long finger. I could not look away from her eyes and I could feel a strange prickle at the base of my neck. I wanted more than anything to run away from her strange eyes with their stranger expression. I did not want to talk to this woman who so clearly wanted to talk to me.
“Draco? Is this…is this, the girl?”
“Yes, Mother. This…is Hermione.”
Next to his mother, Draco took on the same, strange expression. They were both watching me so oddly. As if I was an answer to a question they had asked. An answer that they held so dearly to their hearts.
I held out my hand to Draco’s mother and I said to her, as strongly as I could,
“Hermione Granger, ma’am, at your service.”
She smiled at that, as if was the punch line to a joke that she dearly loved.
“Oh, yes, my dear. How pleasant that we…meet.” But she did not take my hand.
I dropped my hand and then Draco stepped forward, in front of me.
“Mother, it is a long way home.”
She nodded, still looking at me over her son’s head.
“Yes, yes it is.”
“It was wonderful meeting you.” I said.
Her eyes bore into mine once more and then slowly, still watching me with that curious expression she lifted her hood over her face and then turned away.
She walked the length of the hall to the giant doors. She stepped over the threshold and turned again. This time she did not look at me, but instead, at her son. I looked at him too, but he did not take his eyes off of his pale mother.
Then he nodded. Just once.
And when I looked back, she was gone.
And Draco was all smiles once more.
“Have you eaten? I am starving.”
The smile I gave him was a fake one, but he did not seem to notice.
“No, no I was just coming down to eat.”
“Excellent!” he said, looping an arm about my waist. “How about we forget the House tables and we eat together?”
I nodded, still shivery over the strange meeting with his mother.
He looked at me and then began walking to the Great Hall and I had no choice but to follow.
************
Apparently fanfics aren't only addictive to read, they're addicitve to WRITE. So I have a series of one-shots out now, and I wouldlove it if you guys would take a look. There's only one now, but there will be more. The title is It's Not a Happy Ending if it Never Even Began.
As Always, xoxox,
Jocelyn.
My stomach growled, reminding me of my own mortality and I struggled out of bed, somehow in my sleep, I had managed to squirm under the covers and now I was completely tangled in my robes, the blanket wrapped around my legs in a death grip. I ripped myself away, leaving the blanket askew on the stone floor and I groped for the door in the pale light.
The hum of voices and the dim ring of laughter floated up to greet me as I stepped onto the landing. I paused, listening to the voices of my fellow Gryffindors and I wished more than anything that I was down there with them. Happy, carefree, and well-fed. My stomach growled again and I slowly began my descent. I felt so strange, like a once beloved queen going to her death. I took the stairs lightly, one hand trailing along the iron railing until I finally reached the bottom. And then I stepped into the light.
For the first time, I realized just how hard it had been for Harry. As soon as the people closest to the stairs saw me, they fell quiet. As the room slowly filtered into nothing I stood there, framed by the archway, and I stared back at them. Their eyes were dark, shadowed by the fire and as I stared at them, they flicked away from me. Away and back. Like I was a leper. Something to be stared at. Something shameful.
I hesitated for a moment longer and then I crossed the room. I walked slowly. I stood tall and did not let them see my tears. I could feel them staring at me, and I could hear the hiss of rumors already being passed around. Did these teenagers have no shame? I continued my death march until I reached the portrait hole and I passed through. Then I began to run.
I ran all the way to the Entrance Hall and then I collapsed on the bottom step, exhausted, and clutching a stitch in my side. I did not realize that I was no longer alone until I heard a slight clearing of a throat and I looked up.
Malfoy was standing at the far end of the hall next to a tall figure, still hooded. I started in surprise and then felt a twinge of annoyance that once again, he had managed to catch me at my weakest. The figure was slender underneath its dark hood and I could not make out a face. Only the gleam of the eyes as they caught the candlelight. The figure slowly turned to face me and then it drew near. I stood, scared, what was going on? Who was this and why were they in Hogwarts?
The figure approached, closer, and then it was a foot in front of me. I could hear the sound of its breath and I saw a hand reach out from the inside of the cloak. A long, spidery hand. Pale as snow, the fingers thin and fragile. And as fragile as the fingers appeared to be, I knew, there was a power in them that I, or any sane person, would not want to experience.
The hand threw back its hood and I gasped.
It was Draco Malfoy’s mother.
Narcissa Malfoy stood in front of me in all of her icy beauty and she looked at me with an expression that I could not quite place.
“You, are the girl my son speaks so…highly about.” her voice was soft and hoarse. Almost throaty.
I blinked. It was not a question.
“How do you do?” I asked, politely.
She looked at me with an odd smile and then replied, “How does one do anything?”
The strange answer left me stunned and I continued staring at her. Her eyes were the same gray blue as Draco’s were. But there was something in them. A strange, triumphant gleam. As if they held secrets that were to be kept from me.
I think, more than anything, it was those secrets that scared me.
She smiled once more and then beckoned to her son with a long finger. I could not look away from her eyes and I could feel a strange prickle at the base of my neck. I wanted more than anything to run away from her strange eyes with their stranger expression. I did not want to talk to this woman who so clearly wanted to talk to me.
“Draco? Is this…is this, the girl?”
“Yes, Mother. This…is Hermione.”
Next to his mother, Draco took on the same, strange expression. They were both watching me so oddly. As if I was an answer to a question they had asked. An answer that they held so dearly to their hearts.
I held out my hand to Draco’s mother and I said to her, as strongly as I could,
“Hermione Granger, ma’am, at your service.”
She smiled at that, as if was the punch line to a joke that she dearly loved.
“Oh, yes, my dear. How pleasant that we…meet.” But she did not take my hand.
I dropped my hand and then Draco stepped forward, in front of me.
“Mother, it is a long way home.”
She nodded, still looking at me over her son’s head.
“Yes, yes it is.”
“It was wonderful meeting you.” I said.
Her eyes bore into mine once more and then slowly, still watching me with that curious expression she lifted her hood over her face and then turned away.
She walked the length of the hall to the giant doors. She stepped over the threshold and turned again. This time she did not look at me, but instead, at her son. I looked at him too, but he did not take his eyes off of his pale mother.
Then he nodded. Just once.
And when I looked back, she was gone.
And Draco was all smiles once more.
“Have you eaten? I am starving.”
The smile I gave him was a fake one, but he did not seem to notice.
“No, no I was just coming down to eat.”
“Excellent!” he said, looping an arm about my waist. “How about we forget the House tables and we eat together?”
I nodded, still shivery over the strange meeting with his mother.
He looked at me and then began walking to the Great Hall and I had no choice but to follow.
************
Apparently fanfics aren't only addictive to read, they're addicitve to WRITE. So I have a series of one-shots out now, and I wouldlove it if you guys would take a look. There's only one now, but there will be more. The title is It's Not a Happy Ending if it Never Even Began.
As Always, xoxox,
Jocelyn.