That Which Makes Us Breaks Us
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,082
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
4
Views:
2,082
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter Three
A/N I am moving, so it will be a while till I am able to update again, sorry! Please R&R!
Disclaimer: not mine
Warnings: None
I rise from the ground. The potion has finished it’s work, and now I can transform into the deceased Clara Andrews. The blue-eyed girl whom I imprisoned and stole sweet life from.
Arching my back I crack my spine. It has come to this, my power has returned to me, but I don’t want to confront Dumbledore yet, I have more pressing, more urgent matters to take care of.
I reflect on how it came to this, I continued to watch my angel, following her secretly and planning. Her roommate was a quiet girl, pretty but extremely shy. A loner, no one would miss her. She and Ginevra were on a first name basis, but were not exceptionally close. Perfect, my well tuned cogs began to rotate.
The next Hogsemade trip, I took her. The quiet girl, I kidnapped her. I brought her to my puzzling lair and made her write a letter to the headmaster, saying that a distant relative had passed away and that she needed to leave and would be back in a week. She signed her and her mother’s name, forging it perfectly. I sent it.
Smiling now at my cleverness, I conjure a mirror and transform. I look at myself noting with satisfaction that the morphing has covered all of the scars and marks, which Ginevra could easily identify as my own. I examine my oval face, it is fascinating to see the face of my tear streaked dead victim, so…alive.
I throw my head back and laugh my blue eyes wide and my mouth thrown open exuding one maniac laugh after the other. “Soon, Ginevra, my sweet angel,” I say eyeing a picture I have of her, “soon.” And I disappear.
* * *
A/N This is Ginevra’s POV, later on that night.
I feel so restless, memories are coming back to me, I don’t understand any of it. Every night the same dream for two months. A boy, a diary, blood, screaming. I can hear the sick crunch of bone as I see a girls silhouette, snapping a chickens neck. She is mumbling, trembling and crying. Why is she doing this then? I see the boy again, embracing the girl stroking her hair, his lips twisted into a wicked smile. A diary lays forgotten, mere inches from them. It’s cold here, I don’t like it.
Who is this girl? Who is this boy? And most importantly, what does it have to do with me? I see myself now, I am with Seamus, I don’t really like him. He doesn’t understand me, he just thinks of me as Ron’s baby sister. I hate that, everyone thinks I’m just Ron’s little sister. A shadow in his moronic pose.s trs trying to touch me now, I didn’t like that either, so I shook it off. The scene fades, I see a boy, the same boy as before, he’s scarred and bleeding I have a sudden impulse to go and hug him, to prostate myself before him.
His eyes are staring at something, but what? Hogwarts. He is staring at Hogwarts. His eyes change from soft, to hard and determined as he strides away. Where is the girl?
A flash of lightening surprises me, and I rise to look out the dusty window. I take a glance at the empty bed beside me, poor Carla. I feel worried the weeks practically over and no sign of her.
Gazing out the window I see the rain falling down onto the empty Quidditch field. Hagrid’s house is barely visible against the backdrop of the Forbidden Forest. No lights are on, it’s so very quiet.
Suddenly I see a flurry of activity in the corner of my eye, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape are rushing towards the Entrance Gates of Hogwarts. I keep watching them as they vanish into the wet, foggy night.
At 4:50, they return. They are not alone however, there is someone else floating behind them, my stomach plummets as the lightening flashes once more, I feel as if the suspended body is that of the boy whom I imagine and dream about all the time. I imagine him staring at me. Squinting my eyes I shake my head in disbelief the body is that of a girl. Who?
Sighing at all of the questions invading my mind, I take one last glance as the foursome enters the castle. I lay once more on my bed, surprisingly sleep is now heavy on my eyelids, and just as the Sandman claims me, I let out an unconscious whisper, which not even I can hear but drifts to the unconscious girl in the hospital wing, “Tom…”
R&R
Disclaimer: not mine
Warnings: None
I rise from the ground. The potion has finished it’s work, and now I can transform into the deceased Clara Andrews. The blue-eyed girl whom I imprisoned and stole sweet life from.
Arching my back I crack my spine. It has come to this, my power has returned to me, but I don’t want to confront Dumbledore yet, I have more pressing, more urgent matters to take care of.
I reflect on how it came to this, I continued to watch my angel, following her secretly and planning. Her roommate was a quiet girl, pretty but extremely shy. A loner, no one would miss her. She and Ginevra were on a first name basis, but were not exceptionally close. Perfect, my well tuned cogs began to rotate.
The next Hogsemade trip, I took her. The quiet girl, I kidnapped her. I brought her to my puzzling lair and made her write a letter to the headmaster, saying that a distant relative had passed away and that she needed to leave and would be back in a week. She signed her and her mother’s name, forging it perfectly. I sent it.
Smiling now at my cleverness, I conjure a mirror and transform. I look at myself noting with satisfaction that the morphing has covered all of the scars and marks, which Ginevra could easily identify as my own. I examine my oval face, it is fascinating to see the face of my tear streaked dead victim, so…alive.
I throw my head back and laugh my blue eyes wide and my mouth thrown open exuding one maniac laugh after the other. “Soon, Ginevra, my sweet angel,” I say eyeing a picture I have of her, “soon.” And I disappear.
* * *
A/N This is Ginevra’s POV, later on that night.
I feel so restless, memories are coming back to me, I don’t understand any of it. Every night the same dream for two months. A boy, a diary, blood, screaming. I can hear the sick crunch of bone as I see a girls silhouette, snapping a chickens neck. She is mumbling, trembling and crying. Why is she doing this then? I see the boy again, embracing the girl stroking her hair, his lips twisted into a wicked smile. A diary lays forgotten, mere inches from them. It’s cold here, I don’t like it.
Who is this girl? Who is this boy? And most importantly, what does it have to do with me? I see myself now, I am with Seamus, I don’t really like him. He doesn’t understand me, he just thinks of me as Ron’s baby sister. I hate that, everyone thinks I’m just Ron’s little sister. A shadow in his moronic pose.s trs trying to touch me now, I didn’t like that either, so I shook it off. The scene fades, I see a boy, the same boy as before, he’s scarred and bleeding I have a sudden impulse to go and hug him, to prostate myself before him.
His eyes are staring at something, but what? Hogwarts. He is staring at Hogwarts. His eyes change from soft, to hard and determined as he strides away. Where is the girl?
A flash of lightening surprises me, and I rise to look out the dusty window. I take a glance at the empty bed beside me, poor Carla. I feel worried the weeks practically over and no sign of her.
Gazing out the window I see the rain falling down onto the empty Quidditch field. Hagrid’s house is barely visible against the backdrop of the Forbidden Forest. No lights are on, it’s so very quiet.
Suddenly I see a flurry of activity in the corner of my eye, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape are rushing towards the Entrance Gates of Hogwarts. I keep watching them as they vanish into the wet, foggy night.
At 4:50, they return. They are not alone however, there is someone else floating behind them, my stomach plummets as the lightening flashes once more, I feel as if the suspended body is that of the boy whom I imagine and dream about all the time. I imagine him staring at me. Squinting my eyes I shake my head in disbelief the body is that of a girl. Who?
Sighing at all of the questions invading my mind, I take one last glance as the foursome enters the castle. I lay once more on my bed, surprisingly sleep is now heavy on my eyelids, and just as the Sandman claims me, I let out an unconscious whisper, which not even I can hear but drifts to the unconscious girl in the hospital wing, “Tom…”
R&R