Post by Arden Patricks on Jan 15, 2008 18:30:27 GMT
“Eurngh….” I groan quietly to myself, putting a hand to my head as I sit up very slowly on the cold, hard floor. My eyes don’t want to open all the way, and my head will not stop throbbing. And I don’t know where I am.
For a moment, a flash of panic, accompanied by a strange sense of… déjà vu. This is what it was like after the memory charm incident.
But now I’ve got crusted blood on my face. And… I run my hand over the familiar texture… scabbed-up cuts on my arm. I remember jets of light, and someone shouting. And my own voice shouting back… shrieking, really. I don’t remember the words, just the voices. But at least I got him back.
”We used to be friends, Arden!”
I shake my aching head against the sudden burst of memory, and sit up a little more fully, still blinking in the light. I feel… rather nauseous, possibly from the headache combined with the fact I don’t think I’ve eaten in a while. And every part of me aches, often with sharp extra jabs of pain as I move a limb. I seem to have suffered a recent nosebleed, and I think I hit my head… not to mention all the other little curses I must’ve been hit with, none of which I can remember.
I do remember the note though – reaching in my pocket automatically before I even realize why. I peer at it blearily for a moment before crumpling it in disgust, tossing it aside. It had seemed innocent enough….
But this is why he calls them ‘paranoia’ lessons, not just ‘caution’ or ‘carefulness.’ You really ought to know better, Arden.
I shake my head again, slowly so it will hurt less, and look around… just letting my mind wander ‘til it stumbles upon something of a clue about what happened.
People will worry about me, wherever I am. Maybe someone’s looking.
And that’s when I remember Fitzy’s face, looking unusually pale as he shouts in clear frustration: ”We used to be friends, Arden!”
I remember shouting back, maybe saying something cutting… then we fought. And I remember him shaking his head, lowering his wand after I’ve just thrown a curse… and his face is suddenly cold. Empty of emotion.
”Avada Kedavra.”
I go pale, instinctively and stupidly jabbing my own arm to make sure I’m not a ghost. I know that spell… I’ve known it for almost as long as I remember. It’s the one I tried to use in my silly little suicide attempt so many months ago.
Avada Kedavra.
I close my eyes, hardly able to believe it, and thoroughly confused as to why I am not dead. Either way, something strikes me as ironically amusing, and I whisper it out loud before laughing without humor. “We used to be friends, did we Fitzy?”
((Note: This does not actually take place in the Owlery... just nearby it somewhere, in a shadowy little corridor or something. Just go with it.
))
For a moment, a flash of panic, accompanied by a strange sense of… déjà vu. This is what it was like after the memory charm incident.
But now I’ve got crusted blood on my face. And… I run my hand over the familiar texture… scabbed-up cuts on my arm. I remember jets of light, and someone shouting. And my own voice shouting back… shrieking, really. I don’t remember the words, just the voices. But at least I got him back.
”We used to be friends, Arden!”
I shake my aching head against the sudden burst of memory, and sit up a little more fully, still blinking in the light. I feel… rather nauseous, possibly from the headache combined with the fact I don’t think I’ve eaten in a while. And every part of me aches, often with sharp extra jabs of pain as I move a limb. I seem to have suffered a recent nosebleed, and I think I hit my head… not to mention all the other little curses I must’ve been hit with, none of which I can remember.
I do remember the note though – reaching in my pocket automatically before I even realize why. I peer at it blearily for a moment before crumpling it in disgust, tossing it aside. It had seemed innocent enough….
But this is why he calls them ‘paranoia’ lessons, not just ‘caution’ or ‘carefulness.’ You really ought to know better, Arden.
I shake my head again, slowly so it will hurt less, and look around… just letting my mind wander ‘til it stumbles upon something of a clue about what happened.
People will worry about me, wherever I am. Maybe someone’s looking.
And that’s when I remember Fitzy’s face, looking unusually pale as he shouts in clear frustration: ”We used to be friends, Arden!”
I remember shouting back, maybe saying something cutting… then we fought. And I remember him shaking his head, lowering his wand after I’ve just thrown a curse… and his face is suddenly cold. Empty of emotion.
”Avada Kedavra.”
I go pale, instinctively and stupidly jabbing my own arm to make sure I’m not a ghost. I know that spell… I’ve known it for almost as long as I remember. It’s the one I tried to use in my silly little suicide attempt so many months ago.
Avada Kedavra.
I close my eyes, hardly able to believe it, and thoroughly confused as to why I am not dead. Either way, something strikes me as ironically amusing, and I whisper it out loud before laughing without humor. “We used to be friends, did we Fitzy?”
((Note: This does not actually take place in the Owlery... just nearby it somewhere, in a shadowy little corridor or something. Just go with it.
))