Broken - A Ficlet
The little creek was her favorite place to play ever since Aberforth showed her how to get there. First she crossed the street in front of their house which wasn't hard because there was only a couple of houses and no traffic. The busy part of the neighborhood was way down the road. Once she crossed the street it was a short walk to the rusted gate that was chained shut. Chained shut, but the gap was big enough to let even grownups slip through. Not that she ever saw any grownups. Most of the time it was just her and her doll. All the other kids in the neighborhood went to school. She had all day to play during the week. On the weekends she didn't mind sharing her creek. Sometimes the Muggle children let her help them build little dams or race her stick against theirs in the rapid rush of cool clear water over mossy rocks.
Her mother didn't mind when Ariana came home a little bit wet and a tiny bit muddy. She'd just shake her head and have Ariana change into a clean dress. There was a box under her bed she kept her 'treasures' in from the creek: small river rocks smooth and cool that fit into her tiny hand, pressed wildflowers especially forget-me-nots, a shiny coin she'd found and liked - Muggle money was so pretty.
"Ariana? Please try and remember to remove your shoes before you put your feet in the water." Her mother's voice stops her at the door.
"I'll try!" But she knows she won't try that hard and her mother knows she won't either and it won't matter to them in the least.
When she arrives at the creek the woods are thick and in spite of the fact it's the middle of the day, by the creek it's cool and a little dim.
The first thing she does is prop her dolls up against the mossy side of a tree while she gathers flowers and then sets about making a crown. Her fingers are long and graceful as she weaves the stems together one at a time until they're a tight little chain and she attaches one end to the other. When she finishes with the little crowns she sets one on each of the two dolls heads.
Under her breath she's humming a soft little tune, something her mother always sang in the garden. Gradually as she hums the two dolls drift up off the ground as if caught on a gentle breeze. Watching them Ariana holds her breath a little. She knows about magic - she knows she'll go to school one day and get a wand - but in the meantime these little moments of magic are special. They're just for her until she gets all her magic.
She giggles when the dolls curtsey and begin to dance and pirouette in front of her in time to the song in her heart.
“Hey!”
The loud voice breaks Ariana’s concentration and the two dolls drop out of the air and land in her lap like marionettes with their strings cut. Turning her head she sees three of the boys from down the street walking down the hill towards her.
Gerald, William and Peter. They’d let Ariana race paper boats with them during the few times they were at the creek at the same time.
“Hello.”
“What was that?” Gerald the oldest came to stand right in front of Ariana and snatched up one of her dolls. “How’d you do it?” He looked the doll all over for strings.
“I don’t know, it just kind of happened.”
“Nuh-uh. It’s some kind of trick.” William said. “Dolls just don’t dance by themselves.”
“Mine do.” Ariana tried to take back her dolls only to have the boys jerk them out of reach.
“Dolls don’t dance. It’s a trick. Do it again.” Peter shoved one of the dolls at her. “Do it again only do it slow so we can see.”
“I can’t! Even if I could I’m not supposed to in front of Muggles.”
Gerald’s face screwed up into a nasty scowl. “What did you call us?” He took one of the doll’s arms and twisted and kept twisting until it pulled out of its socket. “Think you’re better than us because you and your snooty family live in that big house and never talk to anybody?”
“Leave my doll alone!” Ariana tried to stand up but Peter shoved her back down as his friend ripped off another of her doll’s arms. “I can’t make them do anything! I can’t!”
“We’ll teach you to think you’re better’n us. You’re not so smart…” Gerald threw Ariana’s doll down into the ferns.
Then they were gone again, Ariana laid her cheek against one of the moss covered stones in the stream. It felt cool against her broken skin.
When she could stand, Ariana picked up her dolls and walked out of the woods with her dolls, her heart and her magic in pieces.
Ariana Dumbledore
Harry Potter
844 Words
I am just stealing this TM prompt involving this picture:
http://www.theatricalmuse.net/images/forest_creek.jpg
Her mother didn't mind when Ariana came home a little bit wet and a tiny bit muddy. She'd just shake her head and have Ariana change into a clean dress. There was a box under her bed she kept her 'treasures' in from the creek: small river rocks smooth and cool that fit into her tiny hand, pressed wildflowers especially forget-me-nots, a shiny coin she'd found and liked - Muggle money was so pretty.
"Ariana? Please try and remember to remove your shoes before you put your feet in the water." Her mother's voice stops her at the door.
"I'll try!" But she knows she won't try that hard and her mother knows she won't either and it won't matter to them in the least.
When she arrives at the creek the woods are thick and in spite of the fact it's the middle of the day, by the creek it's cool and a little dim.
The first thing she does is prop her dolls up against the mossy side of a tree while she gathers flowers and then sets about making a crown. Her fingers are long and graceful as she weaves the stems together one at a time until they're a tight little chain and she attaches one end to the other. When she finishes with the little crowns she sets one on each of the two dolls heads.
Under her breath she's humming a soft little tune, something her mother always sang in the garden. Gradually as she hums the two dolls drift up off the ground as if caught on a gentle breeze. Watching them Ariana holds her breath a little. She knows about magic - she knows she'll go to school one day and get a wand - but in the meantime these little moments of magic are special. They're just for her until she gets all her magic.
She giggles when the dolls curtsey and begin to dance and pirouette in front of her in time to the song in her heart.
“Hey!”
The loud voice breaks Ariana’s concentration and the two dolls drop out of the air and land in her lap like marionettes with their strings cut. Turning her head she sees three of the boys from down the street walking down the hill towards her.
Gerald, William and Peter. They’d let Ariana race paper boats with them during the few times they were at the creek at the same time.
“Hello.”
“What was that?” Gerald the oldest came to stand right in front of Ariana and snatched up one of her dolls. “How’d you do it?” He looked the doll all over for strings.
“I don’t know, it just kind of happened.”
“Nuh-uh. It’s some kind of trick.” William said. “Dolls just don’t dance by themselves.”
“Mine do.” Ariana tried to take back her dolls only to have the boys jerk them out of reach.
“Dolls don’t dance. It’s a trick. Do it again.” Peter shoved one of the dolls at her. “Do it again only do it slow so we can see.”
“I can’t! Even if I could I’m not supposed to in front of Muggles.”
Gerald’s face screwed up into a nasty scowl. “What did you call us?” He took one of the doll’s arms and twisted and kept twisting until it pulled out of its socket. “Think you’re better than us because you and your snooty family live in that big house and never talk to anybody?”
“Leave my doll alone!” Ariana tried to stand up but Peter shoved her back down as his friend ripped off another of her doll’s arms. “I can’t make them do anything! I can’t!”
“We’ll teach you to think you’re better’n us. You’re not so smart…” Gerald threw Ariana’s doll down into the ferns.
Then they were gone again, Ariana laid her cheek against one of the moss covered stones in the stream. It felt cool against her broken skin.
When she could stand, Ariana picked up her dolls and walked out of the woods with her dolls, her heart and her magic in pieces.
Ariana Dumbledore
Harry Potter
844 Words
I am just stealing this TM prompt involving this picture:
http://www.theatricalmuse.net/images/forest_creek.jpg
