Gravity Happens
folder
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
3,368
Reviews:
11
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Harry Potter › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
10
Views:
3,368
Reviews:
11
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.
Funny Thing About the Past...
Eve stood in the center of her room, watching her things fly around her, and seriously doubting her sanity. I shouldn’t be here, I shouldn’t be here, I should NOT be here, she thought while her clothes made their way into the wardrobe, her books up to the library, her research files onto the desk; everything found its place except for one little silver box at the bottom of her biggest steamer trunk. Moving quietly across the floor, Eve warily eyed the silver box. She knew exactly what was inside of it—she didn’t need to open it, but she knew she would anyway. She always did. Curling up on the rug, Eve tenderly cradled the box, running her fingers over the familiar ridges of the dragon-and-rose pattern. Bracing herself to face her past, she pushed on the clasp and the lid flipped open. A Gryffindor Quidditch Captain’s badge, a dried old rose corsage, a sharp black shark’s tooth, a pair of fake muggle driver’s licenses, and a small stack of moving pictures stared back at her. Happy teenagers on a beach, happy teenagers in a field, happy teenagers in a garden, a glowing pair in dress robes on the main landing of Hogwarts’s great stair…memories washed over Eve like a waterfall as her world came crashing down around her. Silently, she fought back tears; tears she hadn’t allowed herself to shed for over five years. Strengthening her resolve, Eve left the pictures on the floor and stood to move her luggage into a small storage cupboard, “Locomotor trunks!” she commanded and the boxes began to make their way across the room.
“Well, aren’t they a fine looking pair!” the voice came from immediately behind Eve, startling her and causing her to lose concentration on her task. The trunks instantly halted their progress and fell out of the air, one onto Eve’s foot (luckily, the smallest of them) and causing her to yelp out a string of curses. Maxwell Prior, the pompous looking ghost was standing mere inches from her, bent at the waist and staring down at the picture of Charlie and Eve on the beach.
“Oh dear, I never meant to give you a fright, young Evelyn, is your foot quite alright?” Maxwell gestured Eve to sit down on the bed. Eve hobbled over and waved a quick episkey over her abused appendage.
“It’s fine, Maxwell, thank you, I know you didn’t mean any harm, oooh!” In frustration she threw herself back to stare at the ceiling, “today really hasn’t been the day I expected it to be!”
“So I gathered,” Maxwell floated over and tried to sit on the bed as well, except that he stopped a few inches too high and hovered rather awkwardly. Eve swallowed a smile, “But the most interesting days seldom are. Would you like to talk about it?”
Eve sat up and stared at the ghost attempting to sit on her bed. She looked at the pile of photographs in the middle of her bedroom floor. She glanced at her door, thinking about the door directly across the hall and what that meant. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, closed it again, and finally managed a strangled, “oh, bother.” Maxwell looked back at her, his expression patiently blank.
“Accio photographs,” Eve said softly, the pictures flew into her waiting hand and she looked back down on her sixteen-year old self, “It was a long time ago,” she sighed, “we loved each other very much. We met as children, our older brothers flew for the same junior Quidditch league, and we played together quite often. At school we were inseparable. We both loved animals and flying and…it was just natural. We did everything together, all the time, every summer we went back and forth between my house and his and his brother Bill was best mates with my brother Simon until they graduated…it was like a fairy tale…” she fell silent.
“What happened?” Maxwell prompted gently.
“We were meant to be married…” Eve’s eyes flooded against her will.
“But you didn’t?”
Silence.
“Evelyn?”
“Things happened. People happened. Like I said, it was a long time ago,” Eve stood up and wandered around her room, tracing the vines carved into the mantle, the hart’s antlers on the wardrobe. Maxwell watched her pace listlessly, hearing the silent screams she didn’t even know she was making. He decided a change of subject was in order.
“This is a good room. I’m pleased that Magoon listened to me and put you in here. It’s had a long history of sweet, beautiful women living here, and played a central role in several great love affairs. Most of the furniture is original, but I won’t tell you what isn’t because you’ll never be able to tell. I have impeccable taste and have made sure that these chambers have remained perfect throughout time. This bedspread, for example, I had commissioned specifically for the last lady of the house’s 70th birthday. She and I were great friends,” Maxwell informed her, reasonably sure that a change of subject was the appropriate measure for the situation.
“It is a really an exquisite piece of work, was it locally made?” Eve allowed herself to be soothed.
“Of course, although the colors are nontraditional for the region, the madam in question was quite open to suggestion,”
“Muggle artisan or witch?” Eve asked.
“She was a muggle, indeed, she had only the smallest of frights in taking a commission from one such as myself, but dearest girl, these are the Carpathians, and the natives expect…unusual occurances,” Maxwell said smoothly.
“One such as yourself! La!” Eve laughed, “Are there others in your condition I should be worried about? Any great tragedies occur in this room that might decide to play themselves out in the night? Perhaps a grand Shakespearean murder or two?” her eyes twinkled mischievously.
“I can assure you, my dear, absolutely anyone who has died here deserved it, but you need not fear, no other ghost dares remain here, for I am surely haunting enough for one lodge!”
“Surely!” Eve agreed. Her curiosity then got the best of here, “Max, how did you come to haunt here?”
Maxwell shrugged in feigned nonchalance, “It’s not a very interesting story, best told on a rainy day,” Eve got the distinct impression that enough had been said on that matter, and knew from her Hogwarts years that inquiring into one’s death was best done with great delicacy. She let it be. The two sat in thoughtful silence before Maxwell finally softly asked, “So what are you going to do?”
There was no point in pretending like she didn’t know what he was talking about, “I’ll do my job. Continue my research. What happened between us is in the past, best left undisturbed. I’ll work with him. It’s all I can do.”
Maxwell watched Eve carefully, caught the sorrowful glance she cast at the photographs and smiled to himself. In the past. Sure. If there was one thing Maxwell knew, it was that the past never stayed dead.
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A/N: Readers, please, if you like it, let me know. Even if you don't feel like writing a review, it only takes a moment to rate. Thanks bunches!!!
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO
“Well, aren’t they a fine looking pair!” the voice came from immediately behind Eve, startling her and causing her to lose concentration on her task. The trunks instantly halted their progress and fell out of the air, one onto Eve’s foot (luckily, the smallest of them) and causing her to yelp out a string of curses. Maxwell Prior, the pompous looking ghost was standing mere inches from her, bent at the waist and staring down at the picture of Charlie and Eve on the beach.
“Oh dear, I never meant to give you a fright, young Evelyn, is your foot quite alright?” Maxwell gestured Eve to sit down on the bed. Eve hobbled over and waved a quick episkey over her abused appendage.
“It’s fine, Maxwell, thank you, I know you didn’t mean any harm, oooh!” In frustration she threw herself back to stare at the ceiling, “today really hasn’t been the day I expected it to be!”
“So I gathered,” Maxwell floated over and tried to sit on the bed as well, except that he stopped a few inches too high and hovered rather awkwardly. Eve swallowed a smile, “But the most interesting days seldom are. Would you like to talk about it?”
Eve sat up and stared at the ghost attempting to sit on her bed. She looked at the pile of photographs in the middle of her bedroom floor. She glanced at her door, thinking about the door directly across the hall and what that meant. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it again, closed it again, and finally managed a strangled, “oh, bother.” Maxwell looked back at her, his expression patiently blank.
“Accio photographs,” Eve said softly, the pictures flew into her waiting hand and she looked back down on her sixteen-year old self, “It was a long time ago,” she sighed, “we loved each other very much. We met as children, our older brothers flew for the same junior Quidditch league, and we played together quite often. At school we were inseparable. We both loved animals and flying and…it was just natural. We did everything together, all the time, every summer we went back and forth between my house and his and his brother Bill was best mates with my brother Simon until they graduated…it was like a fairy tale…” she fell silent.
“What happened?” Maxwell prompted gently.
“We were meant to be married…” Eve’s eyes flooded against her will.
“But you didn’t?”
Silence.
“Evelyn?”
“Things happened. People happened. Like I said, it was a long time ago,” Eve stood up and wandered around her room, tracing the vines carved into the mantle, the hart’s antlers on the wardrobe. Maxwell watched her pace listlessly, hearing the silent screams she didn’t even know she was making. He decided a change of subject was in order.
“This is a good room. I’m pleased that Magoon listened to me and put you in here. It’s had a long history of sweet, beautiful women living here, and played a central role in several great love affairs. Most of the furniture is original, but I won’t tell you what isn’t because you’ll never be able to tell. I have impeccable taste and have made sure that these chambers have remained perfect throughout time. This bedspread, for example, I had commissioned specifically for the last lady of the house’s 70th birthday. She and I were great friends,” Maxwell informed her, reasonably sure that a change of subject was the appropriate measure for the situation.
“It is a really an exquisite piece of work, was it locally made?” Eve allowed herself to be soothed.
“Of course, although the colors are nontraditional for the region, the madam in question was quite open to suggestion,”
“Muggle artisan or witch?” Eve asked.
“She was a muggle, indeed, she had only the smallest of frights in taking a commission from one such as myself, but dearest girl, these are the Carpathians, and the natives expect…unusual occurances,” Maxwell said smoothly.
“One such as yourself! La!” Eve laughed, “Are there others in your condition I should be worried about? Any great tragedies occur in this room that might decide to play themselves out in the night? Perhaps a grand Shakespearean murder or two?” her eyes twinkled mischievously.
“I can assure you, my dear, absolutely anyone who has died here deserved it, but you need not fear, no other ghost dares remain here, for I am surely haunting enough for one lodge!”
“Surely!” Eve agreed. Her curiosity then got the best of here, “Max, how did you come to haunt here?”
Maxwell shrugged in feigned nonchalance, “It’s not a very interesting story, best told on a rainy day,” Eve got the distinct impression that enough had been said on that matter, and knew from her Hogwarts years that inquiring into one’s death was best done with great delicacy. She let it be. The two sat in thoughtful silence before Maxwell finally softly asked, “So what are you going to do?”
There was no point in pretending like she didn’t know what he was talking about, “I’ll do my job. Continue my research. What happened between us is in the past, best left undisturbed. I’ll work with him. It’s all I can do.”
Maxwell watched Eve carefully, caught the sorrowful glance she cast at the photographs and smiled to himself. In the past. Sure. If there was one thing Maxwell knew, it was that the past never stayed dead.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
A/N: Readers, please, if you like it, let me know. Even if you don't feel like writing a review, it only takes a moment to rate. Thanks bunches!!!
XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO