Challenges #095; #072
Title: First Footsteps
Rating/Warnings: PG-13? idk if in doubt rate it pg13
Characters/Pairing: Cho Chang, Luna cameo
Summary: Cho is hit in the face by a curse. She tries to make sense of the chaos without the gift of sight.
Word Count: 577
Author's Notes: Cho has been blinded, I hope this makes sense. For Challenge #95 Blackout.
Registered purchases?: Both
She could hear the roars of celebration, but they happened somewhere from afar.
The curse that hit her so early in the battle, had caused her undying agony. Her face felt like it was on fire, everything went white and toxic, an acrid smell of burning flesh filled her nose, burnt into her tongue, washed clean every drop of her conscience.
She had fallen to the ground, the stone floor felt so cold, so embracing as she lay catatonic from her injuries, not having any real sense of anything beyond the white-hot pain.
Cho Chang had lain forgotten for most of the battle, simply swimming in and out of consciousness. She had been surprised not to be murdered. She was fairly sure she was alive; her heart had been pounding in her chest since she was struck by the curse.
The curse.
That was hours ago, and she couldn't get used to how it felt now. She had been discovered during the retreat, treated for her injuries. Standing up, she only truly became aware of why she was so disoriented: her sight had been completely obliterated by the flare.
She knew Madam Pomfrey by voice only. The paste she had slathered over her face only felt humiliating, the ice was unnaturally cold. And after all that, it did no difference.
She sat in a darkened room with the other wounded. At least she presumed it was darkened; she had no real way to discriminate the difference any more. At the very least she knew it was evening when she was duelling and now it was several hours later.
She could hear the roars of celebreation, but they happened somewhere from afar.
She had heard the voice of the Dark Lord whispering from behind her, down her neck, insidious to the pores on her very skin. Harry Potter is dead. He ran away. All hope is lost.
Cho knew that to be a lie at once. After Cedric, she couldn't imagine Harry saving his skin. That wasn't the man she knew.
It was surely daylight now. The clamour from the Hall had subsided a little, and through the lids of her eyes Cho could sense a slight change in light levels. It was now that she realised just how dangerous a castle such as Hogwarts was to be in. She knew roughly where she was, but the staircases move of their own volition, steps vanish underfoot, tapestries conceal tunnels and unexpected paths, and under her current circumstances she did not feel like exploring.
She did follow her ears, though. Cho had made this castle her home for seven years. She would find her way to the Great Hall, but when she got there, what then?
The door approached, she could feel the rumble of voices through her shoes, it was good to know that these people were happy, relieved, excited. She put on her bravest face and stepped through the door confidently.
"Oh, hi Cho." A familiar voice said, completely nonchalant.
"Luna?"
"Yes, it's Luna. Do you want me to guide you to a table?"
With a strange feeling of relief and hope, Cho was guided to a seat and sat among the garble of voices and meaningless shapes in complete darkness. Luna spent the rest of the morning with her, and she decided she would take it upon herself to spend more time with this girl, once she had made the necessary adjustments to her own life.
Title: Coming Out
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairing: Minerva & Isobel McGonagall
Summary: Minerva's mother tries to explain that she is a witch.
Word Count: 451
Author's Notes: Contains some Pottermore stuff, so spoilers where they're due. For challenge #072 When They Were Young
Registered purchases?:
Minerva's mother had sat her down at the breakfast table one morning and explained something to her. To this day she never quite forgot it.
"I have something I need to tell you, Minerva," said her mother, before choking a little; the words appeared to be sticking in her throat.
"What's the matter, ma?" Minerva asked, fearing some great illness was about to blight her.
The woman stood there awkwardly, trying to breath in and out. "I'm... well, both of us you see. We are, uh, we are witches."
"A witch?" Minerva asked, starting to get upset. "I didn't know I had done anything wrong. Ma, I'm so sorry, let me help somehow, I--"
"No, it's fine," said the woman. Minerva seemed to realise how important it was for her mother to keep talking, so with the patience she had inherited from her father she allowed her to keep talking. "I, I finally spoke to your father. He... he understands."
"What?" Minerva asked, confused. "Perhaps he could pray for us?"
"No, we were born as it," Isobel tried to persist the idea. "I don't think there is any way for people to stop being witches. When I met your father I... I gave up magic. It was for everyone's safety."
"But you want to take it up again?" Minerva asked. "That's blasphemy, mother!"
"No, I'm not taking anything up," the woman explained, though slightly tired of going round in circles. Little Minerva, so bright and curious, resembled her father so very much. "But you should know that a lot of strange things happen around the home, and those things are down to magic."
"Magic?"
"Aye, and it's you and possibly your brothers who cause it," she said, finally seeing something click in the girl's mind. "It's fine, Minerva. You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are."
"I don't want to be a witch!" Minerva cried. "I want to be a good girl like daddy wants me to be!"
Isobel sat there, patting her daugher's shoulder. She wished there was some other way to break the news, but in a few years little Minerva would be getting the invitation to Hogwarts just like she herself had done. She needed the girl to be ready. It was awful watching her daughter's world come crashing down around her, but such were the sacrifices that had to be made around Muggles.
Such were the sacrifices that had to be made for love.
Minerva did not speak to her mother for a week. But for the first time ever she realised that the candles in the church hall may well be floating by themselves, and the fear of the darkness suddenly didn't seem too bad.
577+451 = 1028 / 30 = 34.2666
Rob/Gryffindor/ 34 points + 20 bonus GET!!
Rating/Warnings: PG-13? idk if in doubt rate it pg13
Characters/Pairing: Cho Chang, Luna cameo
Summary: Cho is hit in the face by a curse. She tries to make sense of the chaos without the gift of sight.
Word Count: 577
Author's Notes: Cho has been blinded, I hope this makes sense. For Challenge #95 Blackout.
Registered purchases?: Both
She could hear the roars of celebration, but they happened somewhere from afar.
The curse that hit her so early in the battle, had caused her undying agony. Her face felt like it was on fire, everything went white and toxic, an acrid smell of burning flesh filled her nose, burnt into her tongue, washed clean every drop of her conscience.
She had fallen to the ground, the stone floor felt so cold, so embracing as she lay catatonic from her injuries, not having any real sense of anything beyond the white-hot pain.
Cho Chang had lain forgotten for most of the battle, simply swimming in and out of consciousness. She had been surprised not to be murdered. She was fairly sure she was alive; her heart had been pounding in her chest since she was struck by the curse.
The curse.
That was hours ago, and she couldn't get used to how it felt now. She had been discovered during the retreat, treated for her injuries. Standing up, she only truly became aware of why she was so disoriented: her sight had been completely obliterated by the flare.
She knew Madam Pomfrey by voice only. The paste she had slathered over her face only felt humiliating, the ice was unnaturally cold. And after all that, it did no difference.
She sat in a darkened room with the other wounded. At least she presumed it was darkened; she had no real way to discriminate the difference any more. At the very least she knew it was evening when she was duelling and now it was several hours later.
She could hear the roars of celebreation, but they happened somewhere from afar.
She had heard the voice of the Dark Lord whispering from behind her, down her neck, insidious to the pores on her very skin. Harry Potter is dead. He ran away. All hope is lost.
Cho knew that to be a lie at once. After Cedric, she couldn't imagine Harry saving his skin. That wasn't the man she knew.
It was surely daylight now. The clamour from the Hall had subsided a little, and through the lids of her eyes Cho could sense a slight change in light levels. It was now that she realised just how dangerous a castle such as Hogwarts was to be in. She knew roughly where she was, but the staircases move of their own volition, steps vanish underfoot, tapestries conceal tunnels and unexpected paths, and under her current circumstances she did not feel like exploring.
She did follow her ears, though. Cho had made this castle her home for seven years. She would find her way to the Great Hall, but when she got there, what then?
The door approached, she could feel the rumble of voices through her shoes, it was good to know that these people were happy, relieved, excited. She put on her bravest face and stepped through the door confidently.
"Oh, hi Cho." A familiar voice said, completely nonchalant.
"Luna?"
"Yes, it's Luna. Do you want me to guide you to a table?"
With a strange feeling of relief and hope, Cho was guided to a seat and sat among the garble of voices and meaningless shapes in complete darkness. Luna spent the rest of the morning with her, and she decided she would take it upon herself to spend more time with this girl, once she had made the necessary adjustments to her own life.
Title: Coming Out
Rating/Warnings: PG
Characters/Pairing: Minerva & Isobel McGonagall
Summary: Minerva's mother tries to explain that she is a witch.
Word Count: 451
Author's Notes: Contains some Pottermore stuff, so spoilers where they're due. For challenge #072 When They Were Young
Registered purchases?:
Minerva's mother had sat her down at the breakfast table one morning and explained something to her. To this day she never quite forgot it.
"I have something I need to tell you, Minerva," said her mother, before choking a little; the words appeared to be sticking in her throat.
"What's the matter, ma?" Minerva asked, fearing some great illness was about to blight her.
The woman stood there awkwardly, trying to breath in and out. "I'm... well, both of us you see. We are, uh, we are witches."
"A witch?" Minerva asked, starting to get upset. "I didn't know I had done anything wrong. Ma, I'm so sorry, let me help somehow, I--"
"No, it's fine," said the woman. Minerva seemed to realise how important it was for her mother to keep talking, so with the patience she had inherited from her father she allowed her to keep talking. "I, I finally spoke to your father. He... he understands."
"What?" Minerva asked, confused. "Perhaps he could pray for us?"
"No, we were born as it," Isobel tried to persist the idea. "I don't think there is any way for people to stop being witches. When I met your father I... I gave up magic. It was for everyone's safety."
"But you want to take it up again?" Minerva asked. "That's blasphemy, mother!"
"No, I'm not taking anything up," the woman explained, though slightly tired of going round in circles. Little Minerva, so bright and curious, resembled her father so very much. "But you should know that a lot of strange things happen around the home, and those things are down to magic."
"Magic?"
"Aye, and it's you and possibly your brothers who cause it," she said, finally seeing something click in the girl's mind. "It's fine, Minerva. You shouldn't be ashamed of who you are."
"I don't want to be a witch!" Minerva cried. "I want to be a good girl like daddy wants me to be!"
Isobel sat there, patting her daugher's shoulder. She wished there was some other way to break the news, but in a few years little Minerva would be getting the invitation to Hogwarts just like she herself had done. She needed the girl to be ready. It was awful watching her daughter's world come crashing down around her, but such were the sacrifices that had to be made around Muggles.
Such were the sacrifices that had to be made for love.
Minerva did not speak to her mother for a week. But for the first time ever she realised that the candles in the church hall may well be floating by themselves, and the fear of the darkness suddenly didn't seem too bad.
577+451 = 1028 / 30 = 34.2666
Rob/Gryffindor/ 34 points + 20 bonus GET!!