Challenge #62: The Wand Chooses the Wizard
Title: Waiting for the boy
Rating/Warnings: G. none.
Characters/Pairing: Wand. Wizard. (Most probably Harry)
Summary: A wand. Waiting for what?
Word Count: 525
Author's Notes: I'm so sorry.
Registered purchases?: Quill & Parchment: registered.
The wand had been sitting in the box for many a dusty year. It loved the lining of it's box, at first, when it had come into being, become aware, it had thought that this was all there was. The beings that count move, they made you and laid you in your velvet lined, musky boxes. They stored you on top of one another. They placed a spark of life, a spark of the bits that made you you into you. Your core.
But then, you heard others, moving about your, sitting there and you thought, 'this is not it, there is more'. For why would your creators make you, if only to sit here and dust. Sometimes, now and then, you could be reverently carried down from your shelf, you would feel the bright light and someone would grasp you. Dry hands, sweaty hands. They'd all be the same. Well. Different. But awkward in the way they'd swish you about. Some would be too bold and you'd be swung through the air and some would hesitantly, haltingly swish you from side-to-side.
None of them liked you. But that was all right, because really, you didn't like any of them. Some of them you felt a slight spark with, something, but not enough. It was just enough to tell you that there was something amazing to be felt; that you were just waiting for the right person. You didn't know what this person would be like, you didn't know if you'd like them. What did it even mean to like someone?
Afterwards you were laid back in your box, put in a pile with the others who hadn't been right for this person and back you all went, to the dusty shelves. Sleeping and waiting until the next time you might be right for someone. You thought more on this person and wished they would come. You felt you could accomplish so much if you could only get out of here. Get out of this box, off of this shelf and out...where? What was even out there? Maybe they picked things like you to destroy. Maybe this was the safe place and where they took you meant no more of this. But what ever was out there, good or bad, would be an adventure.
And then it happened. You were there, you were brought out to a hand, it wasn't sweaty, it was smooth and calm. It gripped you firmly and ZING you felt it. This one was like you. He'd laid in wait for years, waiting for a chance to bloom and he was just coming out of his box. He could be great, you could be great. Together you would be amazing.
You felt a pang, your family had killed his family. The spark from within you knew this person. There was something your recognised within him.
You were carefully placed back in your box, although, you knew this wasn't the end. You were going in the pile and then back on the shelf. This time you were going with this person, this wizard. You were his and this would be bloody amazing.
- sas // claw
Points: 525 / 50 = 10.5 + 10 bonus = 21 pts
Rating/Warnings: G. none.
Characters/Pairing: Wand. Wizard. (Most probably Harry)
Summary: A wand. Waiting for what?
Word Count: 525
Author's Notes: I'm so sorry.
Registered purchases?: Quill & Parchment: registered.
The wand had been sitting in the box for many a dusty year. It loved the lining of it's box, at first, when it had come into being, become aware, it had thought that this was all there was. The beings that count move, they made you and laid you in your velvet lined, musky boxes. They stored you on top of one another. They placed a spark of life, a spark of the bits that made you you into you. Your core.
But then, you heard others, moving about your, sitting there and you thought, 'this is not it, there is more'. For why would your creators make you, if only to sit here and dust. Sometimes, now and then, you could be reverently carried down from your shelf, you would feel the bright light and someone would grasp you. Dry hands, sweaty hands. They'd all be the same. Well. Different. But awkward in the way they'd swish you about. Some would be too bold and you'd be swung through the air and some would hesitantly, haltingly swish you from side-to-side.
None of them liked you. But that was all right, because really, you didn't like any of them. Some of them you felt a slight spark with, something, but not enough. It was just enough to tell you that there was something amazing to be felt; that you were just waiting for the right person. You didn't know what this person would be like, you didn't know if you'd like them. What did it even mean to like someone?
Afterwards you were laid back in your box, put in a pile with the others who hadn't been right for this person and back you all went, to the dusty shelves. Sleeping and waiting until the next time you might be right for someone. You thought more on this person and wished they would come. You felt you could accomplish so much if you could only get out of here. Get out of this box, off of this shelf and out...where? What was even out there? Maybe they picked things like you to destroy. Maybe this was the safe place and where they took you meant no more of this. But what ever was out there, good or bad, would be an adventure.
And then it happened. You were there, you were brought out to a hand, it wasn't sweaty, it was smooth and calm. It gripped you firmly and ZING you felt it. This one was like you. He'd laid in wait for years, waiting for a chance to bloom and he was just coming out of his box. He could be great, you could be great. Together you would be amazing.
You felt a pang, your family had killed his family. The spark from within you knew this person. There was something your recognised within him.
You were carefully placed back in your box, although, you knew this wasn't the end. You were going in the pile and then back on the shelf. This time you were going with this person, this wizard. You were his and this would be bloody amazing.
- sas // claw
Points: 525 / 50 = 10.5 + 10 bonus = 21 pts