Post by andromeda on Apr 4, 2007 12:08:13 GMT
Except for the faint scratching of a quill, the night was still and quiet. It was past midnight and only one person in The Burrow stayed awake. Candlelight cast a strange glow over the face of Ginny Weasley, fast asleep and breathing deeply.
Over in the corner of the room, Hermione swept a stray curl away from her face and finished the sentence she was writing. She glanced over at the sleeping figure to reassure herself that Ginny was still in a deep sleep. Yawning widely, she looked back down at the parchment. For weeks, she had stayed up long past the time when everyone else had gone to sleep, anxious to keep her task secret from the Weasley family. She could not bear to be questioned on what she was writing about. The subject of the book was so dear to her that she didn’t think she could stand having people questioning her endlessly about it. When it was published, there would doubtlessly be a flood of questions, from both her friends and from others, but she wanted to put that off for as long as possible.
Hermione read through the last paragraph several times, not quite sure how to end her novel. She felt a strange affection towards it, as she might towards her own child. She had poured out her heart in the scrolls of parchment on which the novel had been written and the thought that it was nearly complete, caused her to feel a mixture of pride and sorrow.
Stifling a yawn, she decided with great reluctance that the completion of the novel would have to wait until the following night. Careful not to make too much noise, Hermione hid the parchment under her bed and blew out the candle.
She was very tired, but her thoughts kept her awake. She couldn’t take her mind off the scrolls of parchment that she had stacked so neatly under her bed. On some, stifled laughter had caused her handwriting to become shaky. Others were smudged by tears. Roll after roll of parchment, filled with sorrow and joy, triumph and defeat, friends and enemies, life and death. Hermione’s own neat handwriting, telling the story of her life. Her life as one of the best friends of Harry Potter.
Unable to sleep, Hermione fumbled around for her wand on the bedside table. Her hand found it moments later and she whispered a spell, causing the tip to illuminate. She got out of bed and sat down on the floor beside it, reaching for a scroll. She began to read the neat, organised paragraphs and tears welled up in her eyes. She held the parchment away from her to prevent creating more smudges. Reading her own words, Hermione could picture Ron’s funeral as though it had been yesterday. The pain was as strong as it had ever been, the loss just as noticeable. Hermione would never forget that day. The day she had lost the boy she loved and nearly lost her own life in a desperate fight to overcome the Dark Lord and regain the peace they had once known.
Rolling up the parchment, Hermione reached for another scroll. The story that this parchment told was of a completely different nature, causing her to smile through her tears. The day that Harry had asked Ginny to marry him had caused celebration in a house that had been in mourning for what seemed like decades, but was less than a year.
The next parchment that Hermione’s fingers closed around caused the tears to well up in her eyes once more. Following her own recovery, Hermione had spent many months visiting St Mungo’s every day, spending hours by the bedsides of many of her friends. She remembered the agonising grief when she had thought Ginny was going to die and the tears of relief she had wept when at last, Ginny’s eyes opened and she regained consciousness.
Hermione sat still, rolls of parchment surrounding her and suddenly knew how she would finish her book. Reaching for that final roll, Hermione unfurled it and picked up her quill from the small table. Dipping it into an ink bottle, she set it to the parchment and wrote.
“For your Tomorrow, We gave our Today”
{Edited by Admin 05/04/07 - 10 Sickles Awarded}
Over in the corner of the room, Hermione swept a stray curl away from her face and finished the sentence she was writing. She glanced over at the sleeping figure to reassure herself that Ginny was still in a deep sleep. Yawning widely, she looked back down at the parchment. For weeks, she had stayed up long past the time when everyone else had gone to sleep, anxious to keep her task secret from the Weasley family. She could not bear to be questioned on what she was writing about. The subject of the book was so dear to her that she didn’t think she could stand having people questioning her endlessly about it. When it was published, there would doubtlessly be a flood of questions, from both her friends and from others, but she wanted to put that off for as long as possible.
Hermione read through the last paragraph several times, not quite sure how to end her novel. She felt a strange affection towards it, as she might towards her own child. She had poured out her heart in the scrolls of parchment on which the novel had been written and the thought that it was nearly complete, caused her to feel a mixture of pride and sorrow.
Stifling a yawn, she decided with great reluctance that the completion of the novel would have to wait until the following night. Careful not to make too much noise, Hermione hid the parchment under her bed and blew out the candle.
She was very tired, but her thoughts kept her awake. She couldn’t take her mind off the scrolls of parchment that she had stacked so neatly under her bed. On some, stifled laughter had caused her handwriting to become shaky. Others were smudged by tears. Roll after roll of parchment, filled with sorrow and joy, triumph and defeat, friends and enemies, life and death. Hermione’s own neat handwriting, telling the story of her life. Her life as one of the best friends of Harry Potter.
Unable to sleep, Hermione fumbled around for her wand on the bedside table. Her hand found it moments later and she whispered a spell, causing the tip to illuminate. She got out of bed and sat down on the floor beside it, reaching for a scroll. She began to read the neat, organised paragraphs and tears welled up in her eyes. She held the parchment away from her to prevent creating more smudges. Reading her own words, Hermione could picture Ron’s funeral as though it had been yesterday. The pain was as strong as it had ever been, the loss just as noticeable. Hermione would never forget that day. The day she had lost the boy she loved and nearly lost her own life in a desperate fight to overcome the Dark Lord and regain the peace they had once known.
Rolling up the parchment, Hermione reached for another scroll. The story that this parchment told was of a completely different nature, causing her to smile through her tears. The day that Harry had asked Ginny to marry him had caused celebration in a house that had been in mourning for what seemed like decades, but was less than a year.
The next parchment that Hermione’s fingers closed around caused the tears to well up in her eyes once more. Following her own recovery, Hermione had spent many months visiting St Mungo’s every day, spending hours by the bedsides of many of her friends. She remembered the agonising grief when she had thought Ginny was going to die and the tears of relief she had wept when at last, Ginny’s eyes opened and she regained consciousness.
Hermione sat still, rolls of parchment surrounding her and suddenly knew how she would finish her book. Reaching for that final roll, Hermione unfurled it and picked up her quill from the small table. Dipping it into an ink bottle, she set it to the parchment and wrote.
“For your Tomorrow, We gave our Today”
{Edited by Admin 05/04/07 - 10 Sickles Awarded}