'Thorns', Gen, Hogwarts, G
Title: Thorns
Characters/Ships: Hogwarts, Harry, ?
Rating: G
Word Count: 331
Summary: It didn't take long for the Acromantula to take over.
Notes: Not the promised fanfiction, although that is coming along quite nicely, with another H/G-type-thing. This is just a drabble, and is the first thing that I have ever written in one go, from start to finish. I wrote it on Friday, polished it up a bit, and here it is. My apologies for my Titus Groan and Disney's Sleeping Beauty-addled brain. Dedicated to Paulina.
Thorns
It didn’t take long for the Acromantula to take over.
When nobody returned to Hogwarts after the summer, the wildlife realised that its time had come; but in truth, the forest had already started to creep in at Dumbledore’s funeral. When September still provided nothing but empty classrooms and silent corridors, the castle surrendered to nature.
The staircases continued to move, the ghosts to drift, the painted figures to flit; but gradually, these things ground to a halt. The trophies grew tarnished, the mice roamed free. Unrestricted, the thorns and thickets leapt upon the grounds.
Hagrid’s hut was the first to be choked, the Quidditch pitch soon following. When the paths of the grounds were lost, and the Giant Squid vanished, the castle knew that its time was up. Silently, the undergrowth turned its limbs towards the Entrance Hall.
The house elves fled; the ghosts had long gone. The portraits panicked, retreating up the castle as fast as they could; the suits of armour held themselves stiffer than they ever had, as slowly, they were chained with briars and brambles.
Finally, the restless descendents of Aragog fulfilled Hagrid’s unintentional prophecy: around the lake and up the steps, like an untrained army, they swarmed. They weaved in and out of the house tables, they delved into the dungeons, they left the kitchen in wreckage. Some of the more adventurous of the clan climbed the stairs and went deeper into the castle: one could find them skittering around the Hospital Wing, or squatting, huge and hideous, eight-eyed and staring, in McGonagall’s old office.
In less than a year, the castle became uninhabitable.
But in the end, Voldemort found a way of luring Harry back.
A chamber, at the bottom of the school: Voldemort knew just who to leave as bait.
Harry had thought that he would have liked to go back to school: but standing at the rusted, branch-throttled gates, Gryffindor’s sword in hand, he thought that he had never found anything harder.
Notes: I labelled this as GenFic as any kind of pairing implied is a bit ambiguous ... but I know who I thought it was ;) Comments will be much appreciated.
Characters/Ships: Hogwarts, Harry, ?
Rating: G
Word Count: 331
Summary: It didn't take long for the Acromantula to take over.
Notes: Not the promised fanfiction, although that is coming along quite nicely, with another H/G-type-thing. This is just a drabble, and is the first thing that I have ever written in one go, from start to finish. I wrote it on Friday, polished it up a bit, and here it is. My apologies for my Titus Groan and Disney's Sleeping Beauty-addled brain. Dedicated to Paulina.
Thorns
It didn’t take long for the Acromantula to take over.
When nobody returned to Hogwarts after the summer, the wildlife realised that its time had come; but in truth, the forest had already started to creep in at Dumbledore’s funeral. When September still provided nothing but empty classrooms and silent corridors, the castle surrendered to nature.
The staircases continued to move, the ghosts to drift, the painted figures to flit; but gradually, these things ground to a halt. The trophies grew tarnished, the mice roamed free. Unrestricted, the thorns and thickets leapt upon the grounds.
Hagrid’s hut was the first to be choked, the Quidditch pitch soon following. When the paths of the grounds were lost, and the Giant Squid vanished, the castle knew that its time was up. Silently, the undergrowth turned its limbs towards the Entrance Hall.
The house elves fled; the ghosts had long gone. The portraits panicked, retreating up the castle as fast as they could; the suits of armour held themselves stiffer than they ever had, as slowly, they were chained with briars and brambles.
Finally, the restless descendents of Aragog fulfilled Hagrid’s unintentional prophecy: around the lake and up the steps, like an untrained army, they swarmed. They weaved in and out of the house tables, they delved into the dungeons, they left the kitchen in wreckage. Some of the more adventurous of the clan climbed the stairs and went deeper into the castle: one could find them skittering around the Hospital Wing, or squatting, huge and hideous, eight-eyed and staring, in McGonagall’s old office.
In less than a year, the castle became uninhabitable.
But in the end, Voldemort found a way of luring Harry back.
A chamber, at the bottom of the school: Voldemort knew just who to leave as bait.
Harry had thought that he would have liked to go back to school: but standing at the rusted, branch-throttled gates, Gryffindor’s sword in hand, he thought that he had never found anything harder.
Notes: I labelled this as GenFic as any kind of pairing implied is a bit ambiguous ... but I know who I thought it was ;) Comments will be much appreciated.