Status: Feeling the Water :)
A Marauder's Tale
Water
A Marauder's Tale
Written by: Green Raspberries.
Nothing.
That is what the girl did, day in and day out.
Nothing.
Clarity supposed that when a Dark wizard as terrible and loathsome as the rumours she had heard, had taken power, people tended to flee for their life. Although, Aurora, Clarity's mother had told her at a young age to disregard rumours, as almost everyone worked in the mill, and why would she want to be like everyone else?
So maybe this Voldemort fellow, was really a light-hearted chap.
Somehow, Clarity doubted that.
She would, in past times, simply ask her father about the strange named wizard who seemed to be but a whisper on everyone's breath. Unfortunately, her father was a work mule. It had been this way since her tenth birthday, he was always carting off a boat load of papers in and out the door in his handsome plum uniform with the silver emblazoned 'W' on the left breast.
Clive Cohen was a Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
'The highest honour they could have bestowed upon me!' He had used to say, Clarity could hardly remember the way her father's voice sounded.
It was not simply that he had work to do. That was the cover story. Clarity remembered six years ago clear as day as her mother sat her down on the fat sofa,
'There's a nasty rumour going around, Clarity.' She wondered why her mother had not used her nickname, 'City', it was rare for someone who knew the girl well to call her Clarity.
'You don't want to work in the Rumour Mill do you, mom?' The little girl smiled up at her mom. Aurora took her daughters hands in hers, wondering how she was going to tell her daughter such a horrible thing as this.
The girl's smile faltered as her mother seemed to brush off her joke without so much as an encouraging pat on the head.
'Your father had a bad spell put on him.' The woman choked on tears she promised herself she would not spill. 'One that means he can't come home for a while.'
Clarity decided that, that was all she needed to hear. Of course her father would be home anytime, he always went on trips of this nature, but he always came home.
Alas, Clive hadn't come home, after ten years and as a child Clarity often asked her mother to go and get him, and bring him home. Of course being that age you don't realize that when someone has the Imperious Curse placed upon them, they don't remember that they have a family waiting at home, they don't remember their daughter. They only remember what their cruel puppeteer wanted them to remember.
Her mother had carried on as best she could. Her husband being taken from her, and being a single mom wasn't easy for Aurora Cohen. Especially when her daughter barely talked anymore, and not just to her, it wasn't the usual teenaged angst. Clarity Cohen never talked to anyone.
Though, Aurora pushed through her heartache and threw herself into her work.
She was a talented Wandmaker. Honing her skill and knowledge of the elements and using them to create wands of extreme magic. Her Wandlore was outstanding and could rival the best of the best.
One sunny afternoon, Aurora came through the doors of her home, greeted with the smell of apples and cinnamon. She had requested the Houselves make her daughters favourite, although she doubted even the comfort that Apple Crisp brought would cushion this landing.
“Pixie, please send my daughter down.” She asked of the short elf, who was sporting her pretty pink bow with pride.
“Yes Mistress.”
Written by: Green Raspberries.
Nothing.
That is what the girl did, day in and day out.
Nothing.
Clarity supposed that when a Dark wizard as terrible and loathsome as the rumours she had heard, had taken power, people tended to flee for their life. Although, Aurora, Clarity's mother had told her at a young age to disregard rumours, as almost everyone worked in the mill, and why would she want to be like everyone else?
So maybe this Voldemort fellow, was really a light-hearted chap.
Somehow, Clarity doubted that.
She would, in past times, simply ask her father about the strange named wizard who seemed to be but a whisper on everyone's breath. Unfortunately, her father was a work mule. It had been this way since her tenth birthday, he was always carting off a boat load of papers in and out the door in his handsome plum uniform with the silver emblazoned 'W' on the left breast.
Clive Cohen was a Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.
'The highest honour they could have bestowed upon me!' He had used to say, Clarity could hardly remember the way her father's voice sounded.
It was not simply that he had work to do. That was the cover story. Clarity remembered six years ago clear as day as her mother sat her down on the fat sofa,
'There's a nasty rumour going around, Clarity.' She wondered why her mother had not used her nickname, 'City', it was rare for someone who knew the girl well to call her Clarity.
'You don't want to work in the Rumour Mill do you, mom?' The little girl smiled up at her mom. Aurora took her daughters hands in hers, wondering how she was going to tell her daughter such a horrible thing as this.
The girl's smile faltered as her mother seemed to brush off her joke without so much as an encouraging pat on the head.
'Your father had a bad spell put on him.' The woman choked on tears she promised herself she would not spill. 'One that means he can't come home for a while.'
Clarity decided that, that was all she needed to hear. Of course her father would be home anytime, he always went on trips of this nature, but he always came home.
Alas, Clive hadn't come home, after ten years and as a child Clarity often asked her mother to go and get him, and bring him home. Of course being that age you don't realize that when someone has the Imperious Curse placed upon them, they don't remember that they have a family waiting at home, they don't remember their daughter. They only remember what their cruel puppeteer wanted them to remember.
Her mother had carried on as best she could. Her husband being taken from her, and being a single mom wasn't easy for Aurora Cohen. Especially when her daughter barely talked anymore, and not just to her, it wasn't the usual teenaged angst. Clarity Cohen never talked to anyone.
Though, Aurora pushed through her heartache and threw herself into her work.
She was a talented Wandmaker. Honing her skill and knowledge of the elements and using them to create wands of extreme magic. Her Wandlore was outstanding and could rival the best of the best.
One sunny afternoon, Aurora came through the doors of her home, greeted with the smell of apples and cinnamon. She had requested the Houselves make her daughters favourite, although she doubted even the comfort that Apple Crisp brought would cushion this landing.
“Pixie, please send my daughter down.” She asked of the short elf, who was sporting her pretty pink bow with pride.
“Yes Mistress.”