View Flat HTML
View Metadata
Search Post
The semester goes on. The Patronuses - the three of them that exist - are useful for remote communications, though they're too conspicuous for chatting in class. And even Bella can send return messages. Feral gets mauled by the carnivorous thorn plant and is sent to Healer Song with a disturbing grin on his face, and tells Bella all about the properties of the plant in question. Sherlock produces no further prophecies, but gets excellent grades in everything, including Divination. Bella gets him to read tarot for her and he gravely informs her that she is fated to be the ruler of the world, before sweeping up the cards and allowing her laughter to be contagious.
Tony draws brooms with jet engines, and jets with tail-twigs. Bella learns about Crups and Grindylows and dragons and unicorns and hippogriffs and Puffskeins (these are handled in-class; she likes them until they try to lick her). Feral works on Animagery and Bella collaborates with Tony on a Transfiguration project for a change and Sherlock gets cornered by Artemis Burberry's cousin and sends him to the infirmary with superficial cuts, stuck-shut eyelids, and a distinct case of unconsciousness.
Bella attempts to invent a broom-based sport that doesn't involve anything exploding or a disproportionate amount of scoring being performed by a single team position, but it turns out she's very bad at catching and throwing balls even when she's in the air and she gives up. The JROC courts the twins and gets nowhere. Feral's fire problem diminishes enough that between that and fire-suppression from the elves he can use magic in the kitchen; he learns to make cheese souffle. It is delicious. Bella loses her hazel wand for a day and a half before it turns up and feels very smug about her backup idea; she finds the missing one under the ingredient cupboard in Potions.
Renée meets her at the exit from the wizarding hideaway of the Bay Cauldron, and she goes roadtripping to Phoenix for the first half of the summer.
+ Show First Post
occluminous
sparksflying
"No kidding—"
She leans off her broom to grab Sherlock by the arm and haul him around.
"We should go home. Like, right now. C'mon, Sherry."
She leans off her broom to grab Sherlock by the arm and haul him around.
"We should go home. Like, right now. C'mon, Sherry."
occluminous
And then, from the trees under them, rises the thing that is wrong.
It is wearing a black cloak, and its hands look like they've died and half-rotted, and it is lifting itself into the air.
The wrongness becomes wronger. Bella's shivering, now.
It is wearing a black cloak, and its hands look like they've died and half-rotted, and it is lifting itself into the air.
The wrongness becomes wronger. Bella's shivering, now.
Feral is shivering, too, clinging to his broom with his eyes squeezed shut.
occluminous
Up, up, up climbs the Dementor. It could probably move faster. It seems to want to take its time.
sparksflying
"Expecto Patronum," says Tony, in a very small voice.
She gets a blob of mist. It streaks quaveringly toward the Dementor.
She gets a blob of mist. It streaks quaveringly toward the Dementor.
occluminous
The Dementor bats it aside like it's a mosquito. Maybe as threatening as a bumblebee, even.
It continues to rise until it is level with the children, and it looks directly at Bella.
And Bella makes eye contact - such as it is, when the Dementor's face is the sucking void of eternal nothing.
And she knows exactly what she is staring at.
She is not ready it is not time yet she was going to fight it but from safety with help surrounded by books tools weapons when she was older smarter more competent more capable -
She is not ready -
No one has ever been ready, and when Death comes to the unready - they die.
Death does not play fair, and she is deliciously vulnerable, and she is not ready.
The books say that when you are close to a Dementor you cannot think of happy things.
Bella can think of happy things, twisted with the deep wrench of loss - they march across her thoughts - these are the possibilities that will be taken from her, these are the people she will never speak to again, these are the things she will never learn see do try gain taste share have be -
Because she is not ready, and Death found her anyway, in a black cloak and a face like the infinite void.
Bella falls.
It continues to rise until it is level with the children, and it looks directly at Bella.
And Bella makes eye contact - such as it is, when the Dementor's face is the sucking void of eternal nothing.
And she knows exactly what she is staring at.
She is not ready it is not time yet she was going to fight it but from safety with help surrounded by books tools weapons when she was older smarter more competent more capable -
She is not ready -
No one has ever been ready, and when Death comes to the unready - they die.
Death does not play fair, and she is deliciously vulnerable, and she is not ready.
The books say that when you are close to a Dementor you cannot think of happy things.
Bella can think of happy things, twisted with the deep wrench of loss - they march across her thoughts - these are the possibilities that will be taken from her, these are the people she will never speak to again, these are the things she will never learn see do try gain taste share have be -
Because she is not ready, and Death found her anyway, in a black cloak and a face like the infinite void.
Bella falls.
Feral feels - like he's being eaten alive from the inside out, like some external force is dipping its claws into his soul and pulling him out in pieces, like he's struggling uphill against a freezing cold wind - like -
He smells fire.
(he is six years old again and he doesn't know how he did that to the chandelier but he knows what's going to happen to him because of it)
No - he's here, now, holding onto his broom so hard his hands are cramping, and whatever's on fire got that way by magic and he needs to put it out. Feral winces his eyes open.
The thing that is on fire is the tail of his broom. And the air, flickering with flames that blot out his vision everywhere he turns. He takes a deep breath, doubles over coughing, and gets thoroughly lost in another flashback for a split second, during which time his broom starts to spin. He opens his eyes again.
His broom is headed for the ground, and he can see Bella ahead of him.
He doesn't even think, which is good, because this is a colossally stupid idea even by his standards. He just whips out his wand, wrenches his broom around to try to halt the spin long enough to aim, and casts a spell. He forgets the name, but he remembers the shape the words make in his mouth and an afternoon spent watching rocks sink toward the ground as though through invisible molasses.
Bella slows down. Feral doesn't.
Hitting the ground is very painful, very briefly.
He smells fire.
(he is six years old again and he doesn't know how he did that to the chandelier but he knows what's going to happen to him because of it)
No - he's here, now, holding onto his broom so hard his hands are cramping, and whatever's on fire got that way by magic and he needs to put it out. Feral winces his eyes open.
The thing that is on fire is the tail of his broom. And the air, flickering with flames that blot out his vision everywhere he turns. He takes a deep breath, doubles over coughing, and gets thoroughly lost in another flashback for a split second, during which time his broom starts to spin. He opens his eyes again.
His broom is headed for the ground, and he can see Bella ahead of him.
He doesn't even think, which is good, because this is a colossally stupid idea even by his standards. He just whips out his wand, wrenches his broom around to try to halt the spin long enough to aim, and casts a spell. He forgets the name, but he remembers the shape the words make in his mouth and an afternoon spent watching rocks sink toward the ground as though through invisible molasses.
Bella slows down. Feral doesn't.
Hitting the ground is very painful, very briefly.
From the direction of the Starks' house, a silvery bird arrows through the sky, aiming its long narrow beak directly at the Dementor.
Maria is not far behind it.
Maria is not far behind it.
The Dementor finds this one a bit more threatening. It leaves off chasing the fallen children and zooms away into the distance.
She dives to put out the small fire started by Feral's broom.
Feral is not looking good. He'll live, though. Wizarding children are tough. She immobilizes him and floats him into the air, then does the same to Bella minus the immobility, collects Tony and Sherlock, and hauls them all back to the house to get some chocolate into them as fast as possible.
Feral is not looking good. He'll live, though. Wizarding children are tough. She immobilizes him and floats him into the air, then does the same to Bella minus the immobility, collects Tony and Sherlock, and hauls them all back to the house to get some chocolate into them as fast as possible.
occluminous
Bella is not, exactly, unconscious.
She is just in a state of expecting death with such certainty that it may as well have happened already.
She does not react to falling, to floating, to being tucked into bed, to the smell of chocolate, to the instructions to eat the chocolate. If she could be doing anything she would be saying goodbye. The cold is gone; cold is just another thing she will not even have the chance to miss when she is dead.
The healer puts some chocolate in her mouth in between fussing over Feral, who between the broken bones from falling out of the sky and the burns from doing it on a broom that was on fire would be having a pretty great day if it weren't for the fact that he... isn't.
occluminous
The chocolate melts there. She doesn't register the taste.
Chocolate works just fine on Feral, once he's awake to eat it. The healer turns her attention to Bella, sits her up, and endeavours to get her drinking some chocolate milk, murmuring quietly to her the whole time - it's all right now, you're safe, you're going to be fine.
occluminous
Bella can be made to swallow, if the healer puts the effort in.
It just - doesn't seem to do anything.
It just - doesn't seem to do anything.
Sometimes it does take a while. The healer is concerned, but apart from chocolate and time there really isn't much in the way of treatment for Dementor exposure. She tucks Bella in again, checks on Feral, fixes his sling for the fourth time where his fidgeting was starting to fray the edges, gives him another dose of bone-strengthening potion, turns out the light, and leaves the room.
As soon as she shuts the door, Feral is out of his bed and limping over to Bella's. He means to give her a hug. He succeeds in doing that, and then he falls asleep, snuggled up on top of the blanket with his broken arm flopped over her.
As soon as she shuts the door, Feral is out of his bed and limping over to Bella's. He means to give her a hug. He succeeds in doing that, and then he falls asleep, snuggled up on top of the blanket with his broken arm flopped over her.
occluminous
Bella's hand moves a little, after a while.
She licks stray chocolate from her lips.
She picks up her hand. She puts it in Feral's hair.
He makes a vague mumbling noise in his sleep.
occluminous
Bella closes her eyes.
She drifts into sleep, herself.
But she doesn't speak.
She drifts into sleep, herself.
But she doesn't speak.
Feral is going to be out for a solid twelve hours. But he's not going to set the bed on fire.
occluminous
Bella wakes up a little sooner than that. She doesn't feel like moving right away, though. She just looks around.