somebody stop me; I think I've lost my mind...
'From My Soul' has eaten my brain (and apparently what little sanity I had left...) which is why I'm still up at 3:45 am and writing. It's now over 55 pages long; I'm working on the 10th chapter and (amazingly, when I think about it) nothing much has happened, plot-wise. (Damn, I must be long-winded.) goldy_dollar was asking this and I think I must too- do they make a patch for this?
And now, since I shouldn't make pointless posts on this journal as you're not here to read my whinging, a cookie from Chapter 8 of 'From My Soul' (that should be posted in the next day or so...)
Hermione paused on her way towards McGonagall’s office, seeing Harry sitting on the floor by the gargoyle. It looked as if he had simply let his legs give way and fallen to the ground rather than consciously decided to sit down and something about his posture, the slump of his shoulders, told her even at this distance that he was being racked with renewed fears and doubts and despair.
She sighed, her heart aching at the sight of him. She wished she could do more to help him, wished she could wave her wand and somehow solve all his problems like one of the fairy godmothers in the fairy tales her grandmother had used to read to her so many years ago… She wished she knew how they were going to destroy the horcruxes and defeat Voldemort, wished she could promise that they would succeed…
But she couldn’t.
And what hurt, what she really hated, was the uncertainty of it and her lack of confidence. She didn’t know how much she could help him; she didn’t know whether she’d somehow find a book that told them all they needed to know to destroy a horcrux (she rather doubted it given the extreme darkness of the magic they were dealing with and the complete lack of information she’d been able to find in the Hogwarts library). She didn’t know anything more about Voldemort’s life than what Harry did so she didn’t know where they should even start looking for Hufflepuff’s cup and the other horcrux. She just didn’t know-and what was worse, she had no idea where she should even begin to look for what she needed to know or even whether she’d be able to find the information she needed.
This was completely new-and a place where, perhaps, not even books could help them.
She sternly clamped down on her own doubts and fears. She didn’t have time for this now. Right now, she needed to help Harry-and she would…
“Harry.”
Harry started and looked up at the sound of Hermione’s voice. “Oh- er- hi. I was expecting you’d be a lot longer than this.”
She sat down beside him, reaching for one of the sandwiches.
“Did you find that you’ve already read all the books in the library so you didn’t need to stay?” he teased, trying to act normal and not let her see his doubts.
She rolled her eyes slightly but couldn’t keep from smiling. “Actually, no. I’d been hoping that because it’s vacation and because I was supposed to be Head Girl, Madam Pince might be more lenient about the rules and let me into the Restricted Section. But she didn’t and I knew there’d be nothing useful in the rest of the library because I already looked last year and there wasn’t anything about horcruxes anywhere.”
Harry stifled a smile. Hermione’s tone and look implied that she almost took it as a personal affront that the Hogwarts library had so far proved useless. And, oddly enough, felt his mood lightening, as he did so.
It was just so-normal-for Hermione to be talking about the library as if it were her personal place. Normal and somehow comforting, even if the news wasn’t good.
And he found, too, rather to his surprise as he’d never felt this way before, that it was actually rather- hard- to feel quite so down and hopeless when he was with Hermione, realizing yet again that at least he didn’t have to figure it all out alone. He had Hermione to help him, the cleverest witch of their year. She had always managed to help him before, somehow, and he found that he couldn’t help but believe that she would help him again this year.
He didn’t have Dumbledore to tell him what he needed to know-but he did have Hermione. And Ron. And other people to help him.
Feeling oddly, almost irrationally, comforted, he began to eat the sandwich he’d brought for himself, letting himself relax.
...
And now, since I shouldn't make pointless posts on this journal as you're not here to read my whinging, a cookie from Chapter 8 of 'From My Soul' (that should be posted in the next day or so...)
Hermione paused on her way towards McGonagall’s office, seeing Harry sitting on the floor by the gargoyle. It looked as if he had simply let his legs give way and fallen to the ground rather than consciously decided to sit down and something about his posture, the slump of his shoulders, told her even at this distance that he was being racked with renewed fears and doubts and despair.
She sighed, her heart aching at the sight of him. She wished she could do more to help him, wished she could wave her wand and somehow solve all his problems like one of the fairy godmothers in the fairy tales her grandmother had used to read to her so many years ago… She wished she knew how they were going to destroy the horcruxes and defeat Voldemort, wished she could promise that they would succeed…
But she couldn’t.
And what hurt, what she really hated, was the uncertainty of it and her lack of confidence. She didn’t know how much she could help him; she didn’t know whether she’d somehow find a book that told them all they needed to know to destroy a horcrux (she rather doubted it given the extreme darkness of the magic they were dealing with and the complete lack of information she’d been able to find in the Hogwarts library). She didn’t know anything more about Voldemort’s life than what Harry did so she didn’t know where they should even start looking for Hufflepuff’s cup and the other horcrux. She just didn’t know-and what was worse, she had no idea where she should even begin to look for what she needed to know or even whether she’d be able to find the information she needed.
This was completely new-and a place where, perhaps, not even books could help them.
She sternly clamped down on her own doubts and fears. She didn’t have time for this now. Right now, she needed to help Harry-and she would…
“Harry.”
Harry started and looked up at the sound of Hermione’s voice. “Oh- er- hi. I was expecting you’d be a lot longer than this.”
She sat down beside him, reaching for one of the sandwiches.
“Did you find that you’ve already read all the books in the library so you didn’t need to stay?” he teased, trying to act normal and not let her see his doubts.
She rolled her eyes slightly but couldn’t keep from smiling. “Actually, no. I’d been hoping that because it’s vacation and because I was supposed to be Head Girl, Madam Pince might be more lenient about the rules and let me into the Restricted Section. But she didn’t and I knew there’d be nothing useful in the rest of the library because I already looked last year and there wasn’t anything about horcruxes anywhere.”
Harry stifled a smile. Hermione’s tone and look implied that she almost took it as a personal affront that the Hogwarts library had so far proved useless. And, oddly enough, felt his mood lightening, as he did so.
It was just so-normal-for Hermione to be talking about the library as if it were her personal place. Normal and somehow comforting, even if the news wasn’t good.
And he found, too, rather to his surprise as he’d never felt this way before, that it was actually rather- hard- to feel quite so down and hopeless when he was with Hermione, realizing yet again that at least he didn’t have to figure it all out alone. He had Hermione to help him, the cleverest witch of their year. She had always managed to help him before, somehow, and he found that he couldn’t help but believe that she would help him again this year.
He didn’t have Dumbledore to tell him what he needed to know-but he did have Hermione. And Ron. And other people to help him.
Feeling oddly, almost irrationally, comforted, he began to eat the sandwich he’d brought for himself, letting himself relax.
...