Status: I'm in the process of rewriting a few things, this story being one of them.
The Raven
Barely Moving, then You're Running Wild
I groaned out and shook my head; someone dumped a bucket of water onto my face. I was offered a towel, so I wiped the water off of my face and dabbed at my soaked hair. I looked around when I could finally see again and groaned at the sight of the hospital wing. I was going to say something snarky, but then I saw Nyathera. She was never ugly, but now I see her in all her gorgeous glory. Did she look like this just a bit ago?
Her skin shines.
Her hair almost floats.
Her face has absolute, perfect symmetry.
Her big eyes stare at me.
Her full lips part.
Music spills out -- it fills the air, it covers the floor.
Her whispers turn into physical, seeable notes and they swim around my head, sliding into my ears.
I reach out for her but fall off of the bed – through the bed. But she grabs onto my sides and pulls me back up. We sit together, with her back against the headboard and my back against her chest. Our bodies glow gold and they look like flowing honey; I can’t tell my body from her own, but I look up at all the amaze people and see that Longbottom’s veins glow gold like our skin. Without having to ask, Nyathera says, “I heal Algie when he’s sick, when he’s hurt, whenever he needs healing. He’ll live a lot longer; he gets hurt a lot less.”
I feel myself sink into her, so she pushes me up into a sitting position, and she stays with me until I can keep myself solidified.
I wander the halls instead of going to the Slug Club Meeting. I troll around, looking for an unsuspecting first or second year, but I give up by the time I get onto the fifth level of Hogwarts. The door to the Room of Requirements is apparent and it’s ajar, so I walk up to it and slowly poke my head in. A record is playing for a beach scene; Longbottom and Nyathera sit on the shoals – not holding one another, not getting intimate like before. She knows I’m here and she says, “Come sit with us.”
I don’t bother to question her or get snarky. I walk over and sit to her left. We all sit together, silently, for a long while, before Longbottom plants a slow kiss on her lips and leaves the Room of Requirements. She stares out at the endless sea for a few minutes before saying, “I own you now.”
I laugh and roll my eyes, “What are you talking about?”
Her head slowly grinds to face me and her wide eyes dig into my innards. Her intangible, gorgeous glory fades into feelings of utter terror – I’ve never felt fear and never like this. She grabs my chin in her left hand and pulls me to her lips. A kiss, at first, turns into sucking out my essence, which she spits back into my mouth. She yanks my head away from her face and says, in a honey-dipped voice, “I created you. I can take it all away.”
I scoot away from her, forcing myself to not get lost in her glowing skin.
“I am responsible for you. You own up to me.”
I stare into her swirling eyes.
“You need to tell me everything about your dark order.”
Her skin shines.
Her hair almost floats.
Her face has absolute, perfect symmetry.
Her big eyes stare at me.
Her full lips part.
Music spills out -- it fills the air, it covers the floor.
Her whispers turn into physical, seeable notes and they swim around my head, sliding into my ears.
I reach out for her but fall off of the bed – through the bed. But she grabs onto my sides and pulls me back up. We sit together, with her back against the headboard and my back against her chest. Our bodies glow gold and they look like flowing honey; I can’t tell my body from her own, but I look up at all the amaze people and see that Longbottom’s veins glow gold like our skin. Without having to ask, Nyathera says, “I heal Algie when he’s sick, when he’s hurt, whenever he needs healing. He’ll live a lot longer; he gets hurt a lot less.”
I feel myself sink into her, so she pushes me up into a sitting position, and she stays with me until I can keep myself solidified.
I wander the halls instead of going to the Slug Club Meeting. I troll around, looking for an unsuspecting first or second year, but I give up by the time I get onto the fifth level of Hogwarts. The door to the Room of Requirements is apparent and it’s ajar, so I walk up to it and slowly poke my head in. A record is playing for a beach scene; Longbottom and Nyathera sit on the shoals – not holding one another, not getting intimate like before. She knows I’m here and she says, “Come sit with us.”
I don’t bother to question her or get snarky. I walk over and sit to her left. We all sit together, silently, for a long while, before Longbottom plants a slow kiss on her lips and leaves the Room of Requirements. She stares out at the endless sea for a few minutes before saying, “I own you now.”
I laugh and roll my eyes, “What are you talking about?”
Her head slowly grinds to face me and her wide eyes dig into my innards. Her intangible, gorgeous glory fades into feelings of utter terror – I’ve never felt fear and never like this. She grabs my chin in her left hand and pulls me to her lips. A kiss, at first, turns into sucking out my essence, which she spits back into my mouth. She yanks my head away from her face and says, in a honey-dipped voice, “I created you. I can take it all away.”
I scoot away from her, forcing myself to not get lost in her glowing skin.
“I am responsible for you. You own up to me.”
I stare into her swirling eyes.
“You need to tell me everything about your dark order.”