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alt_lunaI'm afraid I scuttled any chance whatsoever I might have had for advancing further with the Dark Arts.
When they called my name, I came into the room where the three examiners sat at a table, all writing furiously with their quills, and the door was shut behind me. A woman was sitting cross-legged on the ground, shivering. From her grey rags, it was clear that she was a muggle. Her head was bowed a little, but I could see tears leaking down her face. Fiery letters on her forehead that spelled out 'FILTH' were fading. They must have been cast by the student just before me.
'Who is next?' the man at the center of the table said, pulling a piece of parchment closer as the two other women examiners looked up expectantly. 'Ah, Lovegood.' He pulled off his spectacles, polished them furiously with a spotted handkerchief, and then honked his enormous beak of a nose into it. 'Go over to that Muggle' he waved a careless hand at the woman on the floor 'and use the Flagrate spell to spell out something...appropriate on her.'
I walked over and looked down at her. There was nothing pretty about her. Her hair was grey, and her hands were swollen as if they had seen hard work. She tried to smile at me, but her lips were trembling and there was a tooth missing.
This is the moment when you must decide, I told myself, but I couldn't think what to write. I thought of my mother, which was odd, because she looked nothing like my mother. I thought of my father, and how I would never know what happened to him, but when he disappeared I was declared a half-blood, which everyone knows is a lie. I thought of Mr and Mrs Weasley, who might have been my parents when my own were gone, except it wasn't allowed.
I've been all but alone for a long time, so I know what it feels like to be lost.
The woman kept staring at me, not flinching away, but shivering.
'Well?' the Head Examiner said sharply. 'Cast your spell, Lovegood. You lose points for delay, you know.'
The hem of her worn dress lay in front of her on the floor. Carefully, I raised my wand and I burned the letters into the fabric, as large as I could make them without actually touching her.
O M E L A S
And then I walked out of the room, without even waiting for them to dismiss me.
When they called my name, I came into the room where the three examiners sat at a table, all writing furiously with their quills, and the door was shut behind me. A woman was sitting cross-legged on the ground, shivering. From her grey rags, it was clear that she was a muggle. Her head was bowed a little, but I could see tears leaking down her face. Fiery letters on her forehead that spelled out 'FILTH' were fading. They must have been cast by the student just before me.
'Who is next?' the man at the center of the table said, pulling a piece of parchment closer as the two other women examiners looked up expectantly. 'Ah, Lovegood.' He pulled off his spectacles, polished them furiously with a spotted handkerchief, and then honked his enormous beak of a nose into it. 'Go over to that Muggle' he waved a careless hand at the woman on the floor 'and use the Flagrate spell to spell out something...appropriate on her.'
I walked over and looked down at her. There was nothing pretty about her. Her hair was grey, and her hands were swollen as if they had seen hard work. She tried to smile at me, but her lips were trembling and there was a tooth missing.
This is the moment when you must decide, I told myself, but I couldn't think what to write. I thought of my mother, which was odd, because she looked nothing like my mother. I thought of my father, and how I would never know what happened to him, but when he disappeared I was declared a half-blood, which everyone knows is a lie. I thought of Mr and Mrs Weasley, who might have been my parents when my own were gone, except it wasn't allowed.
I've been all but alone for a long time, so I know what it feels like to be lost.
The woman kept staring at me, not flinching away, but shivering.
'Well?' the Head Examiner said sharply. 'Cast your spell, Lovegood. You lose points for delay, you know.'
The hem of her worn dress lay in front of her on the floor. Carefully, I raised my wand and I burned the letters into the fabric, as large as I could make them without actually touching her.
And then I walked out of the room, without even waiting for them to dismiss me.
Re: Private message to Mrs Longbottom
Date: 2014-05-24 12:39 am (UTC)And right and wrong are rather twisted round in this case, aren't they? I do hope you don't face any greater consequences beyond your marks, however.
Re: Private message to Mrs Longbottom
Date: 2014-05-24 02:26 am (UTC)