Halfway Gone

What Happened Before

2009-03-05T20:51:46Z

I've decided to post part of this to see what you all think of it. :)

Title: Part I - Last 1/?
Author: valiant_one
Rating: PG (but ratings subject to change, guys, and there is definitely some PG-13 on the way. ;)
Disclaimer: Anything that you recognize belongs to C.S. Lewis.
Notes/Summary: This is first in a two-part fic about Jadis the White Witch before she became the White Witch. It starts hundreds of years before the founding of Narnia.

One

Jadis frowned and turned slightly to the left. She sighed. There was a small rip in the seam of her dress. The last thing she needed. She turned in a complete circle to check for other rips, and then slipped the dress off. She walked over to the small servant girl standing in the corner and thrust the dress into her hands.

“This will have to be mended,” she said, indicating the hole. The girl nodded silently and bowed out of the room. Jadis then turned her attention back to the mirror. Well, she certainly wasn’t as pretty as Ildri. But she never had been. Everyone always noticed her sister first. Nothing compared to Ildri’s dark hair, pale white skin, and hazel eyes. Jadis blended into everything because of her undeniably white hair that matched her equally pale complexion. Her most flattering feature was steel-gray eyes, but their color always made her look cold and indifferent, a fact that couldn’t be helped. It was all to be blamed on her father, for having an affair with that accursed woman that Jadis would not recognize as her mother. She was unusual and ethereal, people said, and had had all of the same features about her appearance that Jadis now possessed. A witch, people had called her. They whispered that she dealt with dark magic often. Often afterwards, people thought that she had probably bewitched the King and that he hadn’t been in love with her at all. Jadis refused to believe any of it. For as long as she could remember, she had been a member of the royal family. Ildri never failed to remind her that it was because of the goodness of their father’s heart that she was here. Jadis did not need to be reminded. It crossed her mind every day. She missed her father terribly and she resented her uncle for it. Of course, the King’s death could not be helped and Charn needed a new King. And of course Uncle Gaubert would be next in line. But Jadis never forgave her uncle for taking her father’s place, an action that resulted in a growing animosity between the two. Ildri tried to keep the peace, but outbursts from Jadis were not unusual. She became angry whenever her uncle talked about his plan to permanently take care of the growing Dragon problem. Jadis had forever been trying to convince her uncle to give the dragons some land and let them live in peace, but he would not hear of it. The dragons had been linked to deaths among the city’s people for many years, but lately had become worse. Jadis could not and would not blame them. They were hungry. The people had hunted for so long that there were not enough animals to feed them all anymore. She secretly brought them food whenever she could, or sent it by way of a dragon she had befriended, Wilhelm. It was her greatest secret, and no one knew of it. She knew if anyone found out she could be killed for treason. But the dragons needed help, and she would not let them starve. They were intelligent creatures and, though they couldn’t speak, Jadis knew that they understood her better than anybody. ‘Magic runs in their veins,’ her father, who had wanted to help the dragons as well, had once said. Magic runs in their veins. Magic ran in her veins too, Jadis was sure of it. She couldn’t always explain it, but strange things happened that made her positive. The dragons were shy creatures, and they normally attacked only at night. If they were seen during the day, they had learned through experience to stay away from people. But they were never frightened of Jadis. Even Wilhelm, all alone and injured in the woods, had trusted her implicitly to care for him. She knew they could feel the magic within her, and trusted her because of it.

Jadis abruptly turned away from the mirror. It would do no good to keep criticizing her appearance and digging up old memories that still hurt. She walked over to the adjacent room and knocked on the door.

“Enter,” came Ildri’s soft voice.

“Il, would you do up my corset, please?” Jadis requested. Ildri, who was sitting on a small stool in front of a table, turned around. Even before she had been done up, Ildri looked breathtaking. She had inherited her father’s pale skin, but the rest of her features belonged entirely to her mother. Their father’s Queen had been beautiful, and Jadis was envious that the kind lady she remembered so well was not her mother, too. In most senses, she had been, and Jadis had been devastated when she died. But in the back of her mind, a little nagging voice always reminded her that she was someone else’s child and, what’s worse, an illegitimate one.

“Certainly,” Ildri said. She stood up and began lacing up the many ribbons in the corset. “I predict you will capture someone’s heart tonight, Addi,” She continued.

“Nonsense, the men will have eyes for no one but you,” Jadis replied with a smile.

“Yes, but I cannot dance with them all at once, can I,” Ildri laughed. “Promise me you will join in one dance, Addi.”

“You know perfectly well I would only humiliate myself,” replied her sister.

“You cannot deny me a pleasure I wish on my birthday,” the other retorted in a reproachful tone. But she was smiling. Jadis sighed.

“Very well, but if I am publicly disgraced until the end of time, know that it is completely your fault.”

“If you are publicly disgraced then we shall all fall into a state of despair and I will not have time to regret it.”

Jadis smiled and turned to face her sister. Ildri’s face was full of loving fun.

“What would I do without you, Il?” Jadis asked her.

“I should not like to think what would happen to you,” Ildri replied. Jadis gave her a kiss on the cheek and then walked over to the table. She picked up a brush and began running it through her long, straight, white locks.

“Addi?”

“Hmmm.”

“Please, do not bother Uncle tonight?” Ildri pleaded. Jadis turned quickly.

“Why, Il, I would not dream of doing such a thing on your birthday! Tonight, you will be the guest of honor. Dragons can wait for another day,” she exclaimed. Ildri beamed.

“I knew you would feel that way,” she said. “I would not normally ask it-”

“-Even though you would have every right to.”

“-But the Prince of Doth is expected to come. Such stories are told about him, Addi! He is supposed to be the most splendid man alive.”

“Then I certainly won’t do a thing. I’m sure he will fall for you instantly,” Jadis replied. Ildri sighed and studied herself in the mirror.

“One can only hope,” she whispered. Jadis walked over to her and wrapped her arms around Ildri’s shoulders.

“How could anyone not love you, dear?” Jadis said. “You are sweet, and beautiful, and everything that is good.”

“It would bring me so much happiness, I’m sure of it, Addi.”

“Then he must fall in love with you.”

“We shall see.”

There was a knock on the door then. Ildri walked over and opened it. The servant girl was standing there, holding Jadis’ neatly folded dress.

“Yes?” Ildri asked.

“If you please, ma’am,” said the servant girl. “Miss Jadis’ dress ma’am.” And she held it out to her.

“Ah, thank you. You may go,” Ildri said, taking the dress. “You’ll look like a dream in this, Addi,” Ildri continued, unfolding the dress and studying it. Jadis laughed.

“A nightmare, perhaps,” she said, and Ildri rolled her eyes.

“Go, put it on, then come back and do my hair for me,” Ildri said. Jadis nodded and, taking the dress, slipped back into her own room. Standing in the middle of the room, she slipped the cool fabric over her head. It was a simple dress with lace at the sleeves and a plunging neckline. She suddenly regretted picking black. It made her skin look even paler than it was. She was eyeing herself critically when she heard a rumbling of carriage wheels from the courtyard below. She hurried to the window and saw a few people get out of the carriage and walk into the house.

“Ildri, the guests are arriving,” she called, hurrying into her sister’s bedroom.

“Oh, quick then, help me finish,” Ildri said.

In twenty minutes they were both ready, Ildri in her blue gown, Jadis in her black one. Ildri, in Jadis’ opinion, looked positively radiant. She was glowing from head to toe with excitement.

“You look beautiful,” was all she said, but she meant a lot more.

“As do you,” Ildri replied. Then they both hurried to the window to watch the guests arriving.

“Oh, Addi, that must be him,” whispered Ildri almost at once, and she pointed to a young man who had just gotten off a horse. Jadis studied the young man without saying anything. He was tall and lean, but he also looked strong. He was obviously used to hard work. He had short brown hair and warm brown eyes, and he carried himself with a confident air.

“He looks like someone worthy of my sister,” Jadis said finally.

“Oh, Addi,” Ildri laughed. Then there was a second knock on the door. This time it was the sisters’ cousin, Kaethe.

“Uncle says you can come down, the party has started,” Kaethe informed them excitedly. So Jadis and Ildri tore their gazes from the window and followed their cousin down the stairs and into the ballroom. At the door, all three girls stopped, taking in the sights around them. The ballroom was glowing with the light from a thousand candles, and the huge glass doors leading to the terrace had been thrown open to let in the warm summer air. In the center of the room, the dancing had already started. Around the dancers, other guests mingled in small groups.

“Look, Il, I see the Prince,” Kaethe said, and she grabbed Ildri’s hand and began pulling her into the room.

“Addi…” Ildri began.

“It’s alright,” her sister replied. “Go. I’ll find something to do.” She smiled.

“Remember, you promised me you would dance,” Ildri reminded her.

“I know. I will, do not worry.”

And with that, Ildri was swept away by her impetuous cousin. Jadis turned her eyes back to the party. No one seemed to have noticed that she had come in, as always. She began walking slowly around the room, taking in the sights and saying hello to the guests. Ildri was already dancing with the Prince. She looked happy, whirling and twirling around the dance floor. Several people were already watching her. Jadis smiled. So it had always been. Another party; another chance for Ildri to become the center of attention. But it didn’t really matter. Jadis stopped when she got to where her uncle was standing. She cleared her throat softly and her uncle turned.

“Jadis,” he said, smiling at her. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“It’s a splendid party, Uncle.”

“Good, I’m glad you like it. Ildri looks especially beautiful tonight, doesn’t she?”

“Yes, she does.”

Her uncle turned then to some other men he was standing with.

“She turned twenty-one this week. And never looked prettier, in my opinion,” he said to them. The men all murmured their agreement.

“Is she engaged to be married?” One of them asked.

“No, not as of yet; I’m hoping she’ll meet someone tonight,” the King admitted.

“It looks as though she has,” said another, nodding to where Ildri was still dancing with the Prince.

“So it does,” murmured the King. “So it does.”

“Have you heard the news about Sorlois?” Asked a third man, obviously bored with the subject.

“Yes, dreadful isn’t it?”

“Well, of course, it was inevitable.”

“Yes, we knew it was going to happen sooner or later.”

“Still, terrible shock, terrible shock.”

These comments came quickly. Jadis looked from one man to the next. They were all shaking their heads regretfully.

“What are they talking about?” She asked her uncle in a whisper.

“Sorlois. It just died out,” he replied.

“Sorlois, you mean the world nearest to ours?” Jadis questioned, confused. It was common knowledge that the worlds were linked, one to another, by the Wood of the Pools. Sorlois’ pool had been the one nearest to the pool leading to Charn. Jadis’ uncle nodded in answer to her question.

“Sorlois was old. When a country gets old enough, it’s like anything else; it dies,” said one of the men to Jadis.

“You mean, someday, Charn will die?” Jadis concluded, horrified.

“Yes, although it’s not a matter I like to dwell on, someday, Charn will die,” another man answered.

“Charn’s getting on in years as well.”

“Yes, not much younger than Sorlois.”

“Come, come, gentlemen. Must we point out that terrible fact?”

The men all agreed, and the talk turned to the ever-looming question: what to do about the dragons. Remembering her promise to Ildri, and knowing that the subject would only get her in a rage, Jadis wandered off. She said hello to a few more people and danced the promised dance with a clumsy young man who was nearly a foot shorter than herself. She was growing bored. The small talk didn’t interest her, and Ildri was still wrapped up in the arms of the Prince. She walked over to the terrace and leaned against the railing, shutting her eyes. The cool breeze felt nice after being in the hot ballroom. She was still for several long minutes. Then, suddenly, her eyes popped open and she turned purposely and hurried to the other side of the room. She stopped at the door and glanced around to make sure no one was watching her. Then she slipped out of the room. Running first to her room to retrieve a shawl, she hurried back down the stairs and into the basement, past the kitchens, and out a back door. As the door shut behind her she stopped and took several deep breaths. Try as she might, she couldn’t help getting upset that Ildri had once again been the center of attention. No one had even glanced at her. But of course, she knew she didn’t deserve it. Sweet Ildri worked hard, and she did deserve the attention. Ildri was the model of perfection. She didn’t get dirty, she didn’t fight with Uncle, she didn’t speak at the wrong time or say the wrong thing. She was charming and witty and beautiful and loving and everything that a young princess should be. Jadis wasn’t only the exact opposite of Ildri, she was worse. She broke the law and still looked her uncle in the face. If her uncle ever found out about all the help she gave to the Dragons… Of course Ildri deserved the attention. Jadis unfroze abruptly and, picking up a lantern from a stash that was kept right outside the door, began walking quickly across the backfield toward the wood. The sky was brilliant; all the stars were out. The moon smiled down at Jadis. Rather in a mocking way, Jadis decided.

“Well, go ahead and be amused then!” Jadis yelled at the sky. “People always are, by me.” She glared at the sky, all the while keeping up a great pace. Soon she was at the edge of the woods. She held up the lantern and squinted.

“Wilhelm?” She called. A large shadow appeared out of nowhere, swooping down and landing directly in front of Jadis. The dragon was huge; it could have easily crushed Jadis with its foot. It was golden colored, and its bright scales flashed in the lantern light. It had twisting horns growing out of its head, and large fangs coming out of its mouth. It snorted, and a puff of smoke escaped from its nostrils.

“Wilhelm, please, take me up?” Jadis requested. The dragon obligingly hunkered down for Jadis to crawl up onto his back, which she did without hesitation. Wilhelm looked around to make sure Jadis was on properly, and then he rose up into the sky. He flew low at first, but the further away from the castle they got, the higher he flew. Soon they were among the clouds, and Wilhelm was swooping and soaring. Jadis laughed gleefully. Nothing could compare to this. At least for a while, she could forget all her trouble at home. She leaned closer over Wilhelm’s neck.

“Where are we going?” She shouted over the wind. Wilhelm swung his head around so that it was facing north; they were going to the home of the dragons, Unya Peak. Jadis was silent after that; listening to the whistling wind and the steady beating of Wilhelm’s wings. Very soon, Wilhelm began to drop in altitude, slowly at first, then faster, until they alighted in a small clearing. The dragons all stopped what they were doing and looked up as the two arrived. Jadis slid off Wilhelm’s back and blew out her lantern; she had learned from experience that the dragons didn’t like its light. Then she went and stood quietly in front of Wilhelm. The dragons did not like being approached; they preferred to come to her. They came eagerly, though. They all liked when Jadis came to visit. She could sit on their shoulders and rub their necks, or play with the little ones, or simply talk to them. And usually she brought food.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t brought any food tonight,” Jadis said regretfully, wishing she had thought to at least bring a ham. “I wanted to see you. I have had a terrible night.” The dragons all settled down, with sympathetic eyes, to listen to her story.

“Ildri had her birthday party tonight,” Jadis began. “It was a splendid event. Of course Uncle would have only the best for Ildri. I’m happy for her, I truly am, but, sometimes, I wish I could have just a piece of it. Ildri, without meaning to, always gets everything she wants. She’s sweet and good, and I think that’s why she does. People like her, and they want to do something for her. I try to be like Ildri, but I simply can’t. There are too many things that I don’t agree with everybody else on. And anyway, I’m not half as pretty as her. So that’s why I’ve come. It’s a horribly selfish reason, but I wanted some company who understood me and would listen to me without interrupting. That’s all I have to say.” And Jadis began to walk around, whispering quietly to each dragon individually, rubbing their heads and necks. The dragons relaxed, and each had a word of encouragement for Jadis that she understood perfectly even though they never opened their mouths. This was the reason that she could not be like her sister. She cared too much for these beings that were so misunderstood. She could sympathize with them. She was misunderstood as well.

Later that evening, Wilhelm landed back in the woods right outside the castle grounds.

“Thank you, Wilhelm,” Jadis whispered in his ear. “You are my nearest and dearest friend.” Wilhelm snorted in pleasure, blowing a puff of smoke into Jadis’ face. She laughed. “I will see you soon.” Wilhelm grunted affectionately and then rose up and flew off into the night sky. Jadis sighed and turned.

“A good friend to have, a Dragon,” said a heavily accented voice. Jadis jumped and whirled around.

“Who’s there?” She asked. A woman appeared from behind a tree. She was brown skinned and had course, black hair in many tiny braids. She wore a torn brown dress that looked as though it was made of leather, and her bare arms were covered in tattoos.

“Don’t worry, Mees,” She said. “I meen you no harm.”

Jadis swallowed.

“Who are you?” She asked.

“I am Elspeth, great Sorceress of Charn,” replied the woman. Jadis walked closer.

“A Sorceress? You know magic?” She asked.

“I know much magic, Mees. I have traveled to dee ends of dee earth learning many deeferent spells. But you, you look as eef you know eet. You have dee mark of a mageecian,” Elspeth replied.

“I- no. Not really,” Jadis said.

“I am never meestaken,” Elspeth declared. “You have mageecal talent, you do.”

“I do?” Jadis whispered.

“You beefriended a dragon, deed you not?”

“Yes.”

“Dragons are mageecal creatures, are dey not?”

“Yes.”

“So,” Elspeth concluded, “You must bee a mageecian. Dragons do not take to normal people.” Jadis swallowed again and sat down on a log. All her life, she had waited for somebody to tell her, to confirm her wildest hopes. To declare her a Sorceress. Now, a woman whom she did not know in the least, who had showed up out of nowhere, was telling her she was a magician. It was impossible. And yet, it was happening.

“Why did you just happen to be wandering around in the woods at this time of night?” Jadis accused. The woman was probably a liar.

“Not a coeenceedence, Mees. Fate. I was studying dee stars when you appeared with your dragon. All my life I have waited to see someone like me. Now, finally, you have come!” Elspeth was positively ecstatic. Jadis stood up again, thinking hard. If the woman was a liar, she could be getting into deep trouble. But if she wasn’t…

“Can you teach me to use magic?” Jadis asked.

“Eet is not a question of teaching, but of helping you discover eet within yourself,” Elspeth replied. Jadis began to pace.

“Alright. I’d like you to help me. But it must be a secret. No one can ever know you are here,” she said.

“Whatever you weesh, Mees,” Elspeth replied.

“By the way, I’m Jadis,” she said, extending her hand. Elspeth took it and Jadis jumped. There was a current that made her blood tingle running up and down her arm. Elspeth smiled.

“Dee mageec ees strong,” she whispered.

Almost an hour later, Jadis slipped in the back door and blew out her lantern. She hurried up to her room, stopping only to get a biscuit from the kitchen. Opening her door and shutting it quickly and quietly behind her, she turned around and nearly yelled out loud. Her sister was staring straight at her from across the room. For a long minute there was silence except for Jadis’ panting.

“Where have you been?” Ildri asked through clenched teeth.

“Out,” the answer was quick and tart.

“Do you realize the commotion you have caused? It’s four o’ clock in the morning! Uncle has been searching for you for over an hour.”

“I’m sorry, it was hot in the ballroom, so I went outside to take a walk.”

“And, what, you decided to enjoy the view for a few hours? The party was broken up early when we realized you were gone. Several guests are still out looking for you.”

“I’m sorry!”

“You ruined my birthday, Addi.”

“What else do you want me to say?”

Ildri just shook her head and sighed. She looked exhausted. There were dark circles under her eyes, her ball gown was disheveled and her hair messy.

“I didn’t mean to make everyone so upset,” Jadis whispered. “I honestly wasn’t thinking-”

“But that’s the point. You never do think, do you, Addi?” Ildri snapped.

“Did the Prince leave?” Jadis asked, hoping to distract her.

“No, Faolan is still out looking for you.”

Jadis dropped her head to hide the tears that had started to well up in her eyes.

“Even when I do something right I do it wrong,” she whispered, mostly to herself.

“What are you talking about?” Ildri asked impatiently. Jadis looked up and wiped her cheeks. She thought she saw Ildri’s eyes soften a little bit.

“You’re dress is ruined,” Ildri muttered. But she walked over to her sister and began undoing the back of her dress.

“Have I publicly disgraced myself for life?” Jadis asked, attempting some humor to smooth things over. Ildri smiled at that.

“Almost, but not quite,” she said.

“So the whole family won’t fall into a state of despair?”

“No.”

“I’m sorry, Il.”

“It’s alright. I suppose you have perfectly good reason that you can’t tell me.”

“Well, yes.”

“I think I will always wonder what you do when you go off by yourself.”

“You probably will.”

Jadis slipped the dirty dress off and turned to face her sister.

“But what of the Prince… did you say his name was Faolan? Does he like you?”

Ildri smiled a secretive smile.

“I cannot say for certain, but he certainly seemed to like me. He danced with no one else.”

“Then he must! Oh, Ildri, how wonderful for you!” Jadis exclaimed, dancing around the room with her sister. Ildri laughed.

“Do not start counting dragon eggs before they hatch, Addi. He could certainly turn around and marry someone else, even now,” she advised.

“He most certainly cannot! To even think of such a thing! I’m sure he loves you, Il,” Jadis assured her.

“Enough talking. It’s nearly morning and you’re filthy. I’ll call the maid to draw your bath,” Ildri replied. Jadis consented, but she smiled knowingly at her sister. Ildri just shook her head and laughed again, but Jadis saw a wistful look in her eyes.

“Irresponsible is what I call it. Completely irresponsible.”

Jadis hung her head.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. Forgive me.”

“Actions come with consequences, Jadis. I’m afraid I’m going to have to punish you. No going outside the castle grounds for a week.”

“A week!”

“You heard me. And I don’t want any argument about it.” The King sounded final. Jadis started to protest, and then thought better about it. Instead, she stormed away.

“No going outside the castle grounds for a week,” Jadis repeated to Ildri as she burst into the room. Ildri looked up in surprise from the book she was reading.

“Oh, good,” Ildri said, sounding relieved.

“Good?!” Jadis exclaimed.

“I just meant that I thought it would be a more severe punishment than that,” Ildri rephrased hastily.

“That’s pretty severe if you ask me,” Jadis replied grumpily.

“Come, Addi, it could be worse. Try looking at the bright side.”

“Bright sides have never been my specialty.”

Ildri sighed again and went back to her book, apparently giving up the argument. Jadis walked over to the window and looked out upon the bleak, rainy day. She simply couldn’t stay inside for a week. She had to go to Elspeth and begin her training, and the dragons would need food. Wilhelm would worry if she didn’t come to see him for an entire week. It wasn’t fair. All she had been doing was taking a walk… of sorts. Uncle was going to punish her for walking too long? She wouldn’t agree to it. She wouldn’t stay in the house for a week because of a punishment she didn’t deserve. Not when people were depending on her. No. She wouldn’t do it. Elspeth was expecting her tomorrow night and she was determined to be there.

Pimp

2009-02-24T18:08:39Z

Okay, I'm pimping for my new community pen_power . If you like what you see, please join and spread the word! Thank you muchly. :)

I've Decided to Plague You All With My Incessant Writing

2009-02-23T23:31:22Z

It appears as though the writing bug has hit me once again. I've been on a writing harry potter fanfics craze lately. Yet another:

Rating: PG
Summary: "It is not so great as you might think," the Dark Lord cautioned. "I only meant to imply that you would be more useful than Lucius when it comes to... certain things."

"What certain things, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked, eagerly now.

(I've noticed that I love picking apart the lives of the "bad guy" in a book or movie. I wonder what that says about me...) :P

Bellatrix Lestrange was angry. Yet another plan to secure the boy and thwart Dumbledore had failed. And the fault of it all lied on the shoulders of that miserable excuse for a man, her sister's husband. Lucius Malfoy. The Dark Lord continued to associate Lucius' mistakes with her, though she was not to blame. Narcissa had married the weak-minded wizard, not her. The injustice of that made her want to kill her brother-in-law, and she had seriously considered doing so, but a desperate need to be on good terms with Voldemort restrained her. Bellatrix was not one to spill her deepest secrets to anyone, but even Lucius knew of her passion for the Dark Lord. Ever since she had begun working in his circle, ever since she had become a Death Eater, she had been attracted to him. He was so distant, so evil, so secret. Bellatrix wanted what the Dark Lord absolutely forbid above all else. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted him to take her into his arms. She wanted to feel his cold, thin fingers sliding down her back, touching her face, running through her hair. She wanted to know the feeling of his thin lips, lips that had formed the words that had killed thousands. Mostly, she wanted to know what he was thinking. She wanted him to tell her of his plans, of the future he had planned. She wanted to be a part of that future. She wanted to see Severus Snape's cold, black eyes glitter with jealousy when she was Voldemort's favorite. But the Dark Lord would not or could not be loved. Bellatrix had tried to change his mind, tried to please him, but he remained as indifferent as the stone gargoyle staring down at her now. Bellatrix glared up at it, feeling hostile and rebellious. She glanced around the room. Draco was sitting at the opposite end of the long table that occupied a large part of the space, his eyes wild. Looking at him, Bellatrix was briefly reminded of a cornered prey. Narcissa was sitting directly across from her, twisting her hankerchief nervously, her eyes darting from the door to her lap and back again. Bellatrix was in no mood to try and comfort them. If Lucius died by the Dark Lord's bidding, then so much the better for all of them. She only regretted not being able to see it happen. But, though the Dark Lord had summoned the four, it was Lucius he had requested to see in private. Narcissa had wailed, throwing herself at Voldemort's feet, begging him not to harm her husband. Bellatrix had watched, disgusted at her sister's groveling, as Voldemort had coldly turned her away, promising to do "what was best."

Now they were waiting in this dark, dreary room to hear of Lucius' fate. Bellatrix tapped her fingers impatiently on the table. They had been waiting the better part of an hour. Suddenly, a hideous moan came from behind the closed door. Narcissa flew up, whimpering. She ran to the door, raising her hand to pound on it, but Bellatrix grabbed her wrist.

"No, Cissy," She whispered fiercely. "The Dark Lord should not be disturbed."

"But, Lucius..." Narcissa sobbed. "He's going to kill him, I know it, Bella."

"The Dark Lord promised to do what was best. Perhaps it is for the best, Cissy. There are certainly men more worthy of you," Bellatrix reasoned gently.

"No! Lucius is my husband, Draco's father..." Narcissa looked on the verge of hysteria.

The door was flung open unexpectedly, and Lucius stumbled into the room.

"Oh, Lucius," Narcissa gasped.

He was white and sweaty, his eyes revealed his panic. Narcissa knelt down beside him and gently began rubbing his face. Draco walked over to his father, looking unsure of what to do. Bellatrix scowled and peered past the half-open door into the room beyond. It appeared as though no one was there. She tiptoed past the Malfoys and pushed the door open further. When no movement or sound stopped or startled her, she slipped into the dark chamber. It was small and circular. The only light came from the moon streaming in through the open door that led to the balcony. In the center of the room was a desk. On the desk lay various pieces of paper, Bellatrix glanced at these briefly before concluding that they were of no importance. Also on the desk were a small, dusty bottle full of a brown liquid, a quill, and a wand. Bellatrix was intrigued by the wand. It was knotted and knarled and well-worn. She picked it up gently and held it up to the light to examine it.

"It was made with a feather from the tail of a Phoenix," Voldemort said, appearing as if out of nowhere.

Bellatrix jumped and dropped the wand as if it burned her fingers, "My Lord- forgive me- I had no idea..."

Voldemort only inclined his head the slightest bit. Bellatrix was not sure whether this was a forgiving action or an angry one. She picked up the wand, which had fallen to the floor, to hide her face. She laid it carefully back on the desk, and then turned to go.

"Bellatrix, do stay, for a moment. I wish to ask you something," Voldemort said, and, though it sounded like a request, Bellatrix heard the command underneath. She bit her lip and followed the wizard out onto the balcony.

"How is Lucius?" Voldemort asked, once Bellatrix had stopped beside him at the balcony railing.

"He will be fine, my Lord," Bellatrix said softly. "You gave him far more than he deserved."

"Perhaps," Voldemort said thoughtfully. "But Lucius is valuable in certain ways, if only that of being easily influenced and submissive. I do not want to be rid of him, for all of his failures, just yet."

Bellatrix thought that was a rather ominous ending, even for Voldemort, but she remained silent.

"Nevertheless, the loss of the prophecy was a terrible thing. I cannot be let down like that again. Bellatrix, you are of great value to me," Voldemort said then.

Bellatrix's breath caught in her throat and she turned to look into the wizard's eyes. But he was turned away from her, facing out toward the vallies beyond. Bellatrix looked down at her hands.

"That is a great compliment, my Lord. I thank you," she said finally.

"It is not so great as you might think," the Dark Lord cautioned. "I only meant to imply that you would be more useful than Lucius when it comes to... certain things."

"What certain things, my Lord?" Bellatrix asked, eagerly now.

"I need you to convince the boy to do something for me," Voldemort replied.

"Anything you wish, I'm certain Draco would be happy to do," Bellatrix assured.

"I'm not so sure. This is a very big favor to request. Draco might not be ready," he said.

"What is it?" Bellatrix asked, invisioning grand missions that would finally put her family's name in a good light.

Voldemort turned to face Bellatrix, and she looked up into his cold, distant eyes.

"He must kill Dumbledore," the Dark Lord said after a moment.

Bellatrix froze. Never had she imagined that it would be something like that. Capture Potter's friends, maybe, or perhaps even kill that wretched McGonagall. But never like this.

"My Lord," Bellatrix began in a shaky voice. "Surely, there is someone... more suitable for such a large task?"

"I disagree. I happen to find Draco to be the perfect choice for the job," Voldemort said dismissively.

Bellatrix started to say more, but any thoughts of refusal disappeared with a quelching look from the powerful wizard.

"Whatever you wish, my Lord," she whispered, looking down at her feet.

"Good," Voldemort sounded pleased.

Then there was a soft, swift movement, quick as lighting, and he had grabbed her chin between his white fingers. Bellatrix looked up at him, her big, brown eyes locked to his small, black ones.

"This cannot fail, Bellatrix," he whispered.

"No, my Lord," she replied.

Voldemort seemed about to say more, to do something else, but then he simply dropped his hand and turned back to the view spread out before him.

"That is all," he said. "You may go, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix nodded and slowly turned and walked off the balcony. She turned back at the door, grabbing its frame for support. Voldemort had his hands spread out on the balcony railing and his head was bent low. For a moment, Bellatrix swayed on the spot, wanting to go back to him. But, instead, she tiptoed out of the room. Had she stayed a moment longer, she would have seen the wizard lift his hand and rub his fingers together thoughtfully, as though remembering the feeling of a soft chin beneath them.

One Shot

2009-02-20T00:50:37Z

A random one-shot resulting from boredom:
rating: PG/K+
disclaimer: I do NOT OWN any of the characters, places, or ideas belonging to the wonderful and talented J.K. Rowling. Credit and thanks goes to her. =)

She whirls on the spot, eyes quickly roving the area. The Death Eater lying next to her on the ground moans, and she absentmindedly silences him with her wand, not even looking at him as she casts the spell. A day earlier, she would have been horrified to have cast such a horrible spell on anyone, but so much has happened since yesterday. It could have been a year ago. Suddenly, that horrible voice belonging to that horrible being, Voldemort, echoes through the castle, making the walls shake with its strength. But, though his voice is clear, his words do not make sense. Harry Potter cannot be dead. Not her Harry Potter. It is ridiculous to think that he would die saving himself. Harry is willing to die to save others. She shakes her head, confused, and steps over the Death Eater, picking up speed as she passes empty portraits and carcasses of both Death Eaters and Hogwartians in the hall. People are already flooding the grounds as she comes out, but determination to find out the truth, and love for the person himself, for Harry, makes her continue, shoving her way to the front of the crowd. Ron and Hermione are already standing there, their faces white with shock and disbelief, staring at-

No.

Her heart stops and her mouth runs dry. She begins shaking.

Then all of her senses come back to her at once, and her heart is suddenly hammering, her palms are slick, and her head is throbbing. No. She silently forms the word on her lips.

"No!"

People seem to have been waiting for someone to move, to say something, for several shouts follow hers. Voldemort casts a spell, silencing them all. But they will not be kept quiet.

"He beat you," her brother shouts, and the shouting begins again. He did. He beat Voldemort. He beat him the day he was born, the day Voldemort had tried to kill him for the first time. He has already won.

He has already won.

Oh, btw, that was supposed to be from Ginny Weasley's perspective, in case you didn't gather that. Comment.

Her Life In 30 Sentences.

2009-02-10T18:35:03Z

I saw something like this over on www.fanfiction.net and thought I'd try it.

This is the life of Harry Potter through Ginny Weasley/Potter's perspective. It goes through all seven books and then past that. The person on fanfic did fifty sentences, but I'm lazy. :P Warning: This contains spoilers of the books, and it will only make sense if you've read all seven books.

01. She’s angry because she is too young to go to Hogwarts.
02. He’s sitting in her kitchen and she knows she’s going to do something to embarrass herself in front of him.
03. He is going to hate her forever for sending that stupid Valentine!
04. He’s always getting himself in trouble, why does he need to go after a mass murderer?
05. Hermione draws her aside and tells her to loosen up around him.
06. They draw his name out of the cup and she sees the shock and disbelief on his face.
07. He’s sobbing about Voldemort being back and Cedric Diggory dying.
08. He touches her arm, helping her to perform a patronus, and she gets chills.
09. He loves Cho, and now he won’t notice her at all.
10. The look of struggling indecision on his face is unbearable; he holds the prophecy in his hands.
11. He hugs her after the Quidditch match, making her dizzy.
12. He kisses her in the common room in front of everyone.
13. She tries to memorize these sweet moments with him.
14. He is on the ground, covering Dumbledore’s body protectively.
15. She wants to protect him from all this pain, but doesn’t know how.
16. He hurts her more than he knows, breaking them apart.
17. Their eyes lock while they’re standing in the burrow, waiting.
18. If only everyday could be his birthday.
19. She waits for him.
20. He doesn’t love her, he wants her to leave, doesn’t want her to help him fight this evil that’s approaching.
21. He’s dead, and she cries.
22. His eyes find hers as Voldemort’s body falls to the ground.
23. He asks her, she accepts.
24. She will marry him today.
25. Life is good.
26. The baby has his eyes and her hair, a good mix.
27. She sees the bittersweet sadness in his eyes as the train pulls away from the station, carrying their son.
28. Where has time gone?
29. He tells her he still sees the pretty young girl with flaming red hair that he married.
30. She lovingly rubs a wrinkled forehead, her finger sliding up and down a familiar, lightning-bolt scar.

25 Icons

2009-01-21T23:09:24Z

[1-10] Get Smart
[11-25] Sense and Sensibility

Preview:

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            09                                  10


             11                                  12                                 13                                  14


            15                                  16                                  17                                  18

              19                                 20                                  21                                 22

             23                                  24                                 25

- Please credit and comment if you use
- No hotlinking
- Don't claim as your own
- Textless icons are not bases

For Unto Us a Savior is Born This Day...

2008-12-23T13:37:18Z

I don't know how much I'll be on the computer until after Christmas so:

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

I hope you get good presents! :P

More of My Writing

2008-12-18T19:46:28Z

Hmmm, the more I read this, the more I think this fanfic is kinda rambly. :P Oh well...

Edmund

The day before the play was to go on, Edmund was a nervous wreck. An angry nervous wreck. Mrs. Parnell had announced that since Edmund seemed hardly responsible to play the role of Romeo, Ron would be playing the part instead. Edmund would play the part of Romeo’s father. This had made both Edmund and Hermione very upset. Ron, on the contrary, was looking incredibly pleased with himself. Edmund’s costume had still not turned up, so he had to wear the only thing they could find, a moldy, mouse-eaten tunic and a pair of breeches that were much too small, the color of the whole costume being a puky green. He was frantically trying to memorize all of the father’s lines. Ron seemed to have known he would end up playing Romeo though, for he had all the lines memorized. Edmund was sitting in the back of the auditorium, watching Peter struggle through his lines, when the door burst open and Hermione stormed in, dragging behind her a younger boy holding a costume.

“Mrs. Parnell!” Hermione interrupted loudly, “I want to tell you something!”

“Just a minute dear,” Mrs. Parnell said to Peter, and she turned to Hermione, looking annoyed. “What is it Miss Granger? You know perfectly well we’re on a tight schedule.”

“I found Edmund’s costume in the hands of this boy!” Hermione said, pushing a very scared boy of about twelve forward. “And Ron is behind it all!” Mrs. Parnell pursed her lips, eyeing the boy.

“You took the costume then?” She asked the boy sharply.

“Yes ma’am,” the boy said, shaking, “But only because Ron said he would beat me up if I didn’t.”

“How do we know you’re not lying?” Mrs. Parnell asked, looking skeptical.

“He’s not Mrs. Parnell,” said Hermione nervously.

“How do we know?” Mrs. Parnell persisted.

“I, well, it’s just, uh,” Hermione stammered. Peter cut across her.

“Because, Mrs. Parnell. He did do it. And I helped him.” Peter hung his head.

“Ah, well,” said Mrs. Parnell, looking disappointed at being proven wrong. “Call him out here then.” A minute later Ron appeared onstage.

“Yes Mrs. Parnell?” He asked, oblivious.

“Mr. Weasley,” she said, “You are to go to the Headmaster’s office immediately. I’m disappointed in you.”

“What did I do?” Ron asked, confused. Peter answered.

“I told them mate. I told them you and I took the costume.” Ron looked furiously at Peter and then apologetically at Mrs. Parnell.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Parnell,” he said, “Peter hasn’t been feeling well the past few days. As you can see, he’s awfully confused.” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Mr. Weasley, I have several eye witnesses who testify against you. The headmaster’s office!” Said Mrs. Parnell, pointing to the door. Then she turned to the smaller boy. “You may go dear. Remember to try and not let people bully you.” The boy nodded and ran off. Mrs. Parnell then turned to Edmund. “Well Mr. Pevensie, you may put your other costume on.” Edmund nodded, speechless at the events that had just unfolded before him. He grabbed his costume from Hermione, and with a quick thank you to Mrs. Parnell, hurried off to the dressing room.

Opening night was a buzz of activity. Everywhere people were rehearsing scenes, putting on costumes and makeup, and just generally making a lot of noise. Edmund remained in his dressing room a little longer than he had to, concentrating on taking deep breaths. There was a soft knock on his door.

“Come in,” he said. Hermione slipped into his dressing room. He had to remember not to catch his breath again, for she looked beautiful. She wore a long white gown, and there were white flowers in her curled blond hair. She walked over to Edmund.

“Are you nervous?” she asked.

“Just a little,” he replied, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.

“That’s normal,” she said, “It’s good for you. It helps you to concentrate. I wanted to come in and wish you good luck.”

“Yeah, you too,” he said sincerely. “You might wish Peter luck too: he needs it!” Hermione laughed, and gave him a hug. It was brief, but Edmund’s heart was pounding wildly afterwards. She smelled good; like wildflowers in the summertime. She waved then, and hurried to the door of the dressing room. At the door she stopped.

“Edmund,” she began hesitantly.

“Yes?” he asked.

“Would you like to go to the Christmas ball tomorrow evening with me?” Edmund vaguely heard himself say yes, and then she was smiling and gone, and Edmund had to resist the urge to shout very loudly. He knew he could get through the play now.

The play went better than expected. In fact, it was a huge success. Peter even remembered his lines and didn’t stumble over them. The only flaw was that Ron was a very sullen Romeo’s father. The following day was filled with many ‘congratulations’ and ‘great job’ ‘s. Edmund hardly noticed though. He stood in front of his dormitory mirror at seven o’ clock and began messing with his hair, Harry watching amusedly in the background. After fifteen minutes Edmund sighed. He knew it was hopeless. He turned to put on his dress clothes.

“You look great,” Harry said helpfully.

“Thanks,” Edmund replied, somewhat sarcastically. Slowly, Edmund changed, using every little excuse to make it take longer. He was suddenly not feeling very well.

“Enough stalling,” He muttered to himself finally. He headed down to the dining room, which had been turned into a ballroom for the occasion. Harry chattered the whole way about how he couldn’t believe that Edmund had a date with Hermione Granger. Edmund barely heard him. This had seemed to interest a lot of people, most of them girls. Edmund didn’t like to be the center of attention, but it was better than being nobody. The dining room was filled with people when he and Harry got there. The tables had been cleared away and replaced by smaller, round tables so that there was room for a large dance floor in the center. Edmund spotted Hermione right away, chatting with some of her friends. She looked beautiful in a pale blue gown. Her hair was done up, but it didn’t look overdone like some of the other girls. For jewelry she wore only a small pearl necklace against her white throat. She noticed him and waved. He waved back as Harry muttered,

“I’ll make myself scarce,” and disappeared before Edmund could say anything else. He walked over to Hermione. Her friends seemed to have had the same idea as Harry, for she was now alone.

“Hey,” she said, a little shyly.

“Hey,” he replied uncomfortably.

“Do you want to dance?” she asked. He had not expected this. He wasn’t sure he wanted to dance.

“Um,” he began.

“Me neither,” Hermione said quickly. “Do you want to go out on the balcony? It’s hot in here.” He nodded, and she led the way onto the small balcony overlooking the grounds. Edmund noticed that there was no one else out here; a fact which he wasn’t sure he liked.

“So,” Hermione said, “I actually don’t really know much about you. Where do you live?”

“Seven Isles. How about you?” He responded.

“Archenland. I live near Ron and Peter and their families.”

“Oh,” he said, sorry he had asked. “So you’ve known each other a long time?”

“Ever since we were little children,” she replied. “Our parents are great friends.” There was uncomfortable silence for several minutes after that. Edmund kept trying to think of something to say, and suddenly Hermione burst out,

“Oh! I cannot stand this anymore!” And she kissed him. Edmund felt as if someone had shocked him. Her lips were warm, and soft; not at all like he would have expected them to be. She turned around quickly afterwards, embarrassed, and whispered,

“I’m sorry.”

And then he knew that he loved her. He walked up to her without a second thought and put his arms around her. She turned around in his embrace so that she was facing him and looked at him questioningly. He didn’t answer, but he knew that she knew. She kissed him again, more gently this time, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. They stood for a long time, not saying anything, simply being, until finally it grew too dark to see, and they went back inside. Ron walked up to them then.

“Hermione,” he said, eyeing the way Edmund’s arm was wrapped around Hermione’s waist, “Can I talk to you for a minute? Privately?” Hermione looked at Edmund. Edmund shrugged. Ron dragged Hermione off. Edmund waited around for what seemed like a while, and then he finally began searching for Hermione. He spotted her over in a deserted corner and hurried forward until he saw what was happening. He stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione was kissing Ron.

Um, okay, that definitely says soap opera. Ha.

Comments would be awesome. ;)

Don't Worry, I'm Still Alive.

2008-12-15T20:15:05Z

I've been cleaning out my icon folder and found a few to post:

~No hotlinking
~Don't credit as your own
~Textless icons are NOT bases
~Please credit
~Comments are amazing ;)

Btw, how've you all been? It's been forever, feels like.

Thanksgiving

2008-11-27T15:06:29Z

Happy Thanksgiving, Friends! :D

Eat lots of turkey, give thanks, enjoy your family... ;)

Have a good one.

HSM3 Review

2008-11-24T22:02:27Z

I saw HSM3 yesterday. It was actually a lot better than I thought it would be. ~~I think I actually liked it.~~

The music was a lot better in the movie than just listening to it. It actually fit in with the story, and that made it good. Didn't like "the boys are back". That kinda creeped me out. But that was probably the only thing that I didn't really like very much. I really loved "right here, right now". And "I want it all" was hilarious.

The dancing was amazing; much better than in the first two. "Can I have This Dance" was especially good. I thought it was funny that Gabriella was going to teach Troy how to waltz, and then he seemed to already know, lol.

I thought they should have had more of Sharpay. I got a feeling that her role for this one was smaller, and she's my favorite character. :(

If you haven't seen it, definitely go. It's worth the six bucks. ;)

valiant_one @ 2008-11-01T19:27:00

2008-11-01T23:34:47Z

Okay, I have some time and I'm going to be busy for the next few days, so, here's the next "chapter", if you will, of the fanfic.

Hermione

Hermione Granger was sitting on a window seat in her dormitory, studying for a geometry test that was to occur the following day. Well, she was supposed to be studying. Actually, she was thinking about Edmund Pevensie. Which was ridiculous. It wasn’t fair to Ron that in secret she was thinking about someone else. Besides, Edmund would never fall for her. Not after the way she hung out with Ron. He and Edmund absolutely loathed each other. That was all there was to it. She must stop thinking about him.

The rehearsals for Romeo and Juliet were going unusually well considering they had only been working on it for a month. The only major flaw was Peter, who was playing a servant, could not remember any of his lines. Even when he read them from the script, it took him a ridiculously long time, and the lines always came out wrong. Still, Edmund was doing much better as Romeo than Hermione knew Ron could have ever done. The problem was that whenever they started to rehearse the balcony scene Hermione always forgot her lines. In fact, she forgot how to speak at all. Hermione refused to say that it was really because Edmund’s face was just inches from hers. She kept insisting that that was always a scene she had had trouble remembering and that she would study it harder.

“How can that be the scene that you have trouble remembering?” Mrs. Parnell always asked, exasperated. “It’s the most famous scene in the entire play!” Hermione began to notice one other major flaw as the rehearsals progressed into the third and final month. Edmund seemed to be having bad luck keeping track of things and staying out of the way of trouble onstage. Already he had lost his script, gotten a bucket of paint spilled on him, and barely missed getting killed by a falling ladder. Hermione hoped that it was just coincidental; some of the students were whispering that Edmund must be cursed. She hardly believed that; still, it was hard not to feel rather uneasy about dress rehearsal and opening night. Two days before the play was to go on Hermione saw Edmund walk up to Mrs. Parnell and begin talking to her low and urgently with a worried look on his face. Feeling uneasy, Hermione walked up behind Edmund and cleared her throat loudly. Edmund whirled around as though startled.

“Feeling jumpy?” She asked.

“I, I can’t find my costume,” Edmund muttered, looking at his feet. Hermione resisted the urge to roll her eyes and groan.

“Isn’t it on your hook?” She asked instead. Edmund just shook his head, still looking embarrassed.

“I think somebody took it,” he said.

“Who would take your costume?” Hermione wondered aloud. Edmund said nothing out loud, but his eyes said it all for him.

“Ron would not take your costume!” Hermione said angrily, trying hard to convince herself. “He would never stoop so low!”

“All these things that have been happening to me aren’t just coincidental accidents Hermione,” Edmund said quietly. Hermione said nothing, but simply walked away, knowing that she would not win that argument. She hurried out of the auditorium and headed for her dormitory. Then suddenly, on a whim, she changed directions and started making her way towards Ron’s dormitory. She knocked sharply on his door and was answered by a faint, ‘come in’. She opened the door to find Ron lounging on his bed and Peter, his roommate, struggling with his lines.

“Ron, I need to ask you something,” Hermione said.

“Can it wait for just a second? I’m helping Pete with these lines,” Ron replied.

“Sure, take your time,” Hermione said. Her eyes trailed along one wall of their room, and rested on the desk. She walked over to it and began flipping idly through some different books. She picked up what she thought was Ron’s script and began to flip through it to see if he had even highlighted his lines. Then she noticed something was wrong. All the wrong lines were highlighted. These were Romeo’s lines. And the notes were not in Ron’s handwriting. She turned to the back and there she saw Edmund’s name scrawled on it. She whirled around.

“Ron,” she said, and was pleased that her voice sounded like ice. “Ron, what is Edmund’s script doing on your desk?” Ron looked up, the picture of innocence.

“I have no idea! Do you Pete?” He said in a perfectly surprised voice.

“Too perfect,” Hermione decided. Peter was shaking his head.

“No,” he said, “I have no idea either!”

“Well then why was it in your room?” Hermione challenged.

“Get real Hermione. You don’t actually think that we would take Edmund’s script do you?” Ron asked.

“Yes I do!” Hermione said fiercely. “It seems exactly like something you would do!” Ron rolled his eyes in response.

“Well if you didn’t take it then you won’t care if I give it back!” Hermione hissed. Ron shrugged.

“Whatever,” he said casually. Hermione stormed out of the room, her thoughts whirling around in her head, tears spilling down her cheeks. She had seen this coming for a long time, but it still hurt that she couldn’t trust Ron anymore. The problem was that she had no proof that it was Ron’s fault. She would just have to wait to see if she could catch him doing anything else. She pushed open the doors to the auditorium, roughly brushing away the tears on her cheeks. Bursting into the auditorium, she hurried up to Edmund.

“Here, I found this in the hands of a couple of friends of mine,” she said, wishing that her voice hadn’t broken. Edmund just nodded.

“Thanks,” he said, searching her face. His eyes were filled with concern, but Hermione didn’t want to tell him anything now. She was still too angry. She walked away, leaving Edmund standing in the middle aisle, a script in his hands, his face full of an emotion Hermione would have been surprised and pleased to see.

****************

That's all for now. :)
Comments... ;)

What's today again?

2008-10-31T20:48:12Z

Happy Halloween!

Hope everyone has a good one. :)

Fan Fic

2008-10-29T23:12:29Z

I know, this is really copying voice_of_aslan. But what can I say? It inspired me! Truthfully, I just want to hear what you guys think of my writing. :) The story isn't really very good. A little runthrough: it involves several Narnians (Edmund, specifically, plus Peter and Susan) and also some from Harry Potter (Hermione, specifically, plus Ron, Harry, and Sirius) but they are all completely out of their normal context. ~~I'm just stealing the names more than anything else~~. Well, without further ado... here it is! (Unfortunately, it doesn't have a title.)

Edmund

Edmund Pevensie hurried along the corridor of the large castle toward the dining room. He did not want to make a bad impression by being late on the very first day. The dining room was already crowded with teenagers eating breakfast and chattering excitedly about which classes they would be put in for the year. Edmund craned his neck, trying to look for a place to sit. He settled on one next to a boy of medium height, with dark hair and large, round glasses. He walked up to the boy timidly.

“Do you mind if I sit here?” He asked.

“Not at all,” the boy answered with a friendly smile. Edmund sighed with relief and plopped down. At least that was one thing accomplished. He turned to the boy who had his mouth full of eggs.

“I’m Edmund Pevensie,” he said, holding out his hand.

“Harry Potter,” the boy answered after swallowing. He took Edmund’s hand and shook it vigorously. “You’re new here?” He guessed.

“Yes,” Edmund replied. “I just arrived last night.”

“I can show you around then; I’ve been here since the beginning of the summer.” He grinned ruefully. “My parents thought I might like the extra schooling.” He rolled his eyes, but his grin faded as two boys and a girl walked into the dining room. The first boy was tall, muscular; a formidable figure. He looked around suspiciously, as though everyone in the room was looking to pick a fight with him. The second boy was smaller, but he was obviously the leader. He was also tall, but a great deal thinner, giving him a gangly look. He had bright red hair and small, squinty eyes. He carried himself with a proud air. He was holding the girl’s hand tightly, as though he was afraid she might disappear if he let go. The girl, Edmund couldn’t help but notice, was breathtakingly beautiful. She also walked with a proud air, but she didn’t look quite as disdainful as the boy when she did it. She had long, dark blond hair, pale skin, and chocolate colored eyes. All three of them sat at the end of the same table that Edmund and Harry were sitting at, and the girl became immediately engrossed with the conversation going on around her. The two boys simply began to eat, and their eyes narrowed when they saw Harry. Harry glared at them, and then turned back to his eggs, now stabbing them with a vengeance.

“You don’t like them,” Edmund surmised. Harry snorted.

“That’s an understatement,” he said. “We sort of have this thing against each other, simply because I was the only one who tried to stand up to them at the beginning of the year. They hate me. And I them.”

“What were they doing?” Edmund asked.

“Trying to get one of the younger boys to give them his money. They were threatening to beat him up.”

“What are their names?” Edmund looked at them again curiously.

“The red-haired boy is Ron. The other boy is Peter, and the girl is Hermione.” Harry replied. “The girl actually wouldn’t be bad by herself, but she hangs out with them.” And he jerked his head angrily in their direction. He seemed about to say more, but just then the headmaster of the school, Sirius Black, stepped up to the front of the room, and began his speech for the start of the school year.

“Children,” He began, and everybody became still and quiet. “Children, another year is upon us. I hope those of you who spent the summer at home had a good holiday. Welcome to our new students,” (Harry nudged Edmund at this point.) “And welcome back to our old students. The schedules for the order of classes are being handed out now.” And he nodded to several students who were handing out papers. “For those of you who are new, there are maps of the school in the back of the room. Very well, you may depart to your appropriate classes.” After this there was a great shuffling of feet and scraping of chairs as students jostled each other toward the back of the room, schedules in hand. Edmund grabbed a map at the back of the room, and began tracing his finger along the path to his first class. He shook his head. He was still amazed by the enormity of the school. He failed to understand how he, only a son of the Governor of the Seven Isles, could have been smart enough to end up here, the school for nobles and lords and ladies and princes and princesses. The largest boarding school in all of Narnia. He was very grateful, of course, but still astounded. He wound his way down the corridors, searching for the right door. He was surprised to find that it was more easily found than he thought. He slipped in just as the teacher was calling class to order. To his delight, Harry had ended up in this class first too, and Edmund sat down next to him. Harry gave him thumbs up, and then turned to face the teacher. Edmund looked around and saw several faces he had seen in the dining room, including the red-haired boy, his girlfriend, and the menacing looking blond boy. The class went quickly, as Edmund had to use every second trying to keep up. Even though it was math, his best subject, all of it was new to him. Almost too soon, the bell rang, and the teacher told the class they were dismissed. Edmund gathered up his bag and books, and turned to Harry.

“What’s your next class?” He asked.

“Ummmm,” Harry scanned his list, “English literature.” Edmund grinned.

“Mine too.”

“Excellent!” Said Harry. Suddenly Edmund felt someone bump into him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, excuse me,” he said, turning around. He was facing the red-haired boy with the girl and blond boy planted firmly behind him.

“Better watch where you’re going,” he sneered. Edmund felt a hot anger bubbling in his chest.

“It wasn’t my fault, you pushed me!” He said indignantly.

“Yeah, and I’ll do it again if you don’t learn to stay out of my way,” the boy said.

“I’m not going to purposely stay out of your way,” Edmund said stubbornly. The blond boy frowned, and glanced at the red-haired boy, cracking his knuckles.

“You know, if you don’t do as your told, things could end up unhappy,” the red-haired boy said, jerking his head toward his friend. The girl spoke up anxiously.

“Look Ron, it doesn’t matter, he’s just a boy, let’s just go to class.”

“Yeah Ron,” Edmund taunted, his anger getting the best of him now, “just go on to class, like the coward that you are.” The girl glared at him. Ron glared at him too, looking like he was about to explode.

“Look here…” He began, but just then the teacher came out of the classroom.

“Children!” he scolded, “You are going to be late for class!” Ron glared at Edmund again.

“This isn’t over,” He muttered as he walked away. Edmund glared after his retreating figure, but the teacher was still hurrying them along, so he began to head for his next class. English lit was easier as he had already read the book, Romeo and Juliet.

“Now children,” the teacher, Mrs. Parnell, said. “We will be doing the play, Romeo and Juliet, as I feel this will be a more in-depth experience than simply reading the book. The play will be performed during the Christmas holidays, for those students who are staying at the school. Auditions will be held in two weeks. This will give you plenty of time to read the book.” Just then the bell rang. Students started scrambling up to be the first to the door.

“So who do you think you’ll be in the play?” Harry asked Edmund. Edmund shrugged.

“Who knows? Probably a villager or some other insignificant part like that,” he grinned. Harry sighed and nodded.

“Yeah, me too. Though I would like to get a bigger part, wouldn’t you?” Edmund shrugged again.

“I don’t really care. Acting’s not my thing anyway.” By now they were at the door. As Edmund had expected, Ron was outside waiting for him.

“Hope you get the lead role, don’t you Pevensie?” He taunted. “Well you can forget it. I’ve been the lead in every single play I’ve been in here.” Edmund rolled his eyes.

“Like I care,” he said, “It’s just a stupid play anyway.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you know that you won’t get the lead,” Ron retorted, though he looked slightly disgruntled.

“Whatever,” Edmund muttered. “Let’s go Harry.”

“Just remember Pevensie,” Ron called out after him, “If you do get the lead, you’ll be sorry you ever even auditioned.”

The next few days became a routine for Edmund. Get up, eat, go to classes, eat, go to more classes, eat, study, go to bed. Then get up and do it again the next day. The only trouble in this peaceful rhythm was whenever Ron decided that things were getting too peaceful, and began to taunt Edmund and Harry again with the help of his friend Peter. The auditions for the play loomed closely in front of them and, though Edmund wasn’t exactly nervous, he was a little anxious about having to speak in front of so many people. His one comfort was that he knew the story backwards and forwards, so it wouldn’t be too hard to keep up. On the day of the auditions the air seemed to be a bit tenser, making it hard for Edmund to eat his breakfast. Harry, on the other hand, seemed to have no problem with it, for he ate two boiled eggs, three slices of French toast, a bowl of oatmeal, and a cup of fruit on the side. He finished downing his juice and then poked Edmund.

“We’d better get going. We don’t want to be late for class,” he said.

“Right,” said Edmund, and he heard the nervousness in his own voice. It seemed to Edmund that their first class went much too quickly, and all too soon it was time to head for English lit. Edmund noticed as he walked in that the seats were different. They usually were in long, very straight lines facing the teacher’s desk. Today the desk had been moved to a corner, and the seats were in a large circle in the middle of the room. Harry and Edmund quickly took their seats, as far away from Ron and Peter as possible. Edmund noticed with relief that several other students looked just as nervous as he felt. Ron, however, and his girlfriend Hermione, looked excited and expectant, as though they were waiting for the teacher to announce that they had gotten the lead roles. Mrs. Parnell called the class to order.

“Children,” she said, beaming, “For the auditions we will simply go in alphabetical order and each of you will read a small section from the script.” The auditions went quickly after that, and when it was Ron’s turn Edmund had to admit that he was quite good. His own audition went smoothly. Luckily he only had to read a few of Romeo’s lines, some that he knew practically by heart. At the end of the auditions Mrs. Parnell stood up, looking pleased.

“You all did excellently well,” she said. “I will announce the parts on Friday.” With that she called class dismissed, and the students all hurried from the classroom, looking relieved. Edmund felt as light as air after that, and the week flew by until it was Friday. Edmund hardly expected to get anything at all large, but he was disappointed when almost all the parts had been named and he still hadn’t been called. “They probably just want me to work backstage,” he thought to himself.

“The part of Juliet will be played by…” Mrs. Parnell seemed to pause for dramatic effect. Then she beamed. “Hermione Granger.” Edmund turned to see Hermione walk up to the front of the room, smiling. Hermione Granger. He hadn’t known her last name until now. It had a pleasant ring to it. Then he shook himself, wondering at himself for even thinking about her name, when he loathed Ron so much. Mrs. Parnell was speaking again.

“The part of Romeo will be played by…” (Again, the pause for dramatic effect) “Edmund Pevensie.” Edmund was sure he hadn’t heard right. It couldn’t be possible that he had gotten Romeo. But then he knew he had heard right, because he could feel all the eyes in the room on him, and Mrs. Parnell was beckoning to him. He walked numbly to the front of the room, and took his script silently. He walked back to his seat slowly, taking in the expressions of those around him. Ron looked like he was about to explode. Again. Harry’s mouth was hanging open so wide it looked like his chin might fall right off of his face. Several of the other students looked mutinous. Hermione Granger simply looked at him, no expression on her face whatsoever. He sat back down in his seat and began to slide down so that his face was as low as possible. He could feel his ears burning. He vaguely heard Mrs. Parnell announce who would be playing Romeo and Juliet’s parents. Harry would be playing Juliet’s father. At the end of class he gathered up his books as quickly as possible, preparing to fly out of the room before Ron would have the chance to corner him. Unfortunately, at the door, he tripped over the wastebasket, and his books flew everywhere. Cursing, he began picking them up quickly. Suddenly he felt a soft touch on his shoulder, and he looked up to Hermione handing him his geometry book.

“Thanks,” he muttered, shoving the book into his stack.

“Congratulations on getting Romeo,” she replied, standing up with him simultaneously. “I was wondering if you might want to practice together in a few days, once you have your lines down,” she continued.

“Sure,” he said, but he could feel Ron’s eyes on him. “I know most of them already anyway,” he said, a bit more loudly. “I’ve read Romeo and Juliet too many times to count.”

“Me too,” she said, and her eyes lit up. Edmund had to stop himself from catching his breath.

“On… Sunday then?” She asked tentatively.

“Sure,” Edmund said, “but won’t Ron get angry?”

“Oh he already is,” she said airily, “But don’t worry, he’ll get over himself. In the meantime you and I really do need to practice.” Edmund nodded, feeling nervous. He’d have to try and avoid Ron for the next few days.

“Sunday then,” she said, and she ran off to her next class.

“Don’t forget Pevensie, I said you’d pay,” Ron muttered as he passed him. Edmund gulped.

Edmund found himself looking forward to Sunday so much that he couldn’t find anything to do with himself that Saturday. He told himself it was ridiculous, that it was just a practice, very professional, but he couldn’t help feeling excited whenever he thought about talking to Hermione again. That’s impossible anyway, he told himself, because that’s Ron’s girlfriend, and you don’t just go stealing a girlfriend from Ron Weasley… But Sunday finally came, and Edmund hurried out onto the front lawn where they had agreed to meet. She was already there, sitting on a large rock, reading her script. The sun was playing on her, and her hair appeared to be glowing from this far away. Edmund stood for a split second, watching her, and then he began walking again, calling out to her. She smiled and returned his greeting, running up to him.

“So do you have most of your lines memorized?” She asked.

“Yeah,” Edmund said. “Which scene would you like to do?”

“Let’s do the first scene that we’re in together, it seems most sensible to start from the beginning, don’t you think?” She said brightly. Edmund nodded. The afternoon flew by. They rehearsed scene after scene, soon having the first few scenes down pat. All too soon the sun was setting, the first stars were appearing, and students were leaving the lawn for dinner. Hermione sighed.

“I had a wonderful time,” she said. “Would you like to do it again soon?”

“Yes!” Edmund responded enthusiastically. Hermione grinned.

“Great, how about next Sunday?”
Edmund nodded.

The Sundays became a routine after that, and Edmund found himself looking forward to that part of the week most. He was still on the lookout for Ron, but so far, Ron had completely avoided him. Unlike Harry, this did not make Edmund feel better. On the contrary, it made him even more suspicious. Ron must be cooking up something big. He would have to be on the lookout. To his secret pleasure, Hermione seemed to be most unhappy whenever she was around Ron. Edmund hoped that this meant that their relationship would soon be coming to an end.

*************

Okay, I know it ends in kind of a random place, but the whole story is 63 pages long! (I'll spare you all the horror of that.)

Comments would make my day. ;)

Icons, Yet Again

2008-09-25T21:15:31Z

I have a few icons to post. Not many, because I've been busy with school, work, life... Also, we just had a major wind storm here that was the after effects of hurricane Ike, so it seems like things have been extra crazy with everyone having no power. Luckily, we didn't lose power: a huge blessing. It's been soooo hot here, too! I really, really want it to cool off. I mean, come on people! It's September, it's fall, it's time to have fall weather! School gets so annoying in the heat. Fifty degree weather would be nice. But is that what we get? Nooo, of course not. Anywho, enough complaining. I really do have some graphics to post. There's two sets and then one really random one.

PREVIEW:

1-12: Dakota Fanning
-NO hotlinking
-Don't credit as your own
-Textless avatars are not bases
-Comments rock my world :D

Random Icons and Three Banners

2008-09-15T20:46:15Z

Okay, I have a major random-icons post as well as three different banners. I have been making little bits of a lot of different stuff lately; I can't seem to settle in to anything enough to make a really big batch. Anywho, here we are.

Preview:


1-14: Twilight
15-19: High School Musical
20: Harry Potter
21-24: Beauty and the Beast
Three Banners

Twilight:






HSM:



Harry Potter:

Beauty and the Beast:



-Do Not Hotlink
-No Credit Necessary
-Don't claim as your own
-Comments rock my world :D

Yay! More icons!!

2008-08-16T14:57:37Z

Okay, I ~~finally~~ have some Sense and Sensibility icons ready. I did them all at the same time, so they're pretty simple. (Meaning no textures at all.)

1-20: Sense and Sensibility

-NO Hotlinking
-Do not claim as your own
-Textless avatars are not bases
-No Credit is Necessary
-Comments rock my world :D

Finally! Icons!

2008-08-12T20:25:07Z

I finally have some icons ready to post. I know that it's not very many, but this is really more of a preview of what is to come.

1-3: The Sound of Music
4-6: Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince
-NO Hotlinking
-Don't claim as your own
-Textless avatars are not bases
-Credit please
-Comments rock my world :D