Drabble!
For bloodrebel333:
in her, the fresh miracle of surprise
Lily Evans/Tom Riddle. PG, 891 words. Title taken from Jim Morrison's poetry.
*
Lily warily hurried down the narrow path, hoping she wouldn’t trip over the ragged ends of the enveloping grey cloak she’d bought to conceal her identity. Not that she was ashamed to be seen here, precisely, she just didn’t get the impression that Muggleborns were welcomed and she couldn’t risk being seen by one of her classmates and identified for who - and what - she was.
She was just beginning to doubt the existence of the place when she spied the tiny plaque beside a black-painted door.
She went inside, and ignored hatred in a hag’s eyes as she feigned confidence and made her request.
The bag with the phial felt heavier than it ought, weighed down with guilt and excitement, as she walked out of Knockturn Alley.
*
After deliberation, she chose to wait until she got back to Hogwarts to take the potion. It seemed wrong to do anything magical in her pale purple bedroom, with Mick Jagger and a ghostly image of Jim Morrison pouting down from her walls. (Sometimes she asked her posters questions, forgetting that here, they wouldn’t respond.)
The first day back was a bad one, with the newspaper filled with stories of murder and disappearances. Classmates whispered in voices shaking with terror and excitement, and Lily felt strangely detached from the whole notion of war and death and destruction.
Instead, she thought of her potion (fantasies coming to life in realistic dreams, like the real thing only better because it was a secret for her alone) and decided that tonight was the night, tonight she would spend with her dark-haired boy and find out if he was as right as she thought he was.
But as she curled up around her pillow, one of her dormmate’s tears (she’d lost a neighbor to them, Lily knew) interrupted her concentrated breathing (and her image of her would-be dream lover’s face) and Lily had time for one last thought before she slid under the spell: Who would do such a thing?
*
She started in her dream, looking around and wondering that she could be somewhere she had never been before while still in her mind.
Here, cold rock surrounded her, green water lapped at the pathway and giant carvings showed the face of a man she had seen pictured in Hogwarts: A History.
There was the shuffle of a shoe against stone, and Lily turned. For a half-moment, as the boy was caught between shadow and light, Lily thought the potion had worked and her would-be lover was standing there, but then he took another step forward.
“Who are you?” she managed, staring at the tall, handsome boy with familiar dark hair and cold eyes.
“I think the better question would be, who are you?” he countered immediately, raking over her body in a way that Lily wasn’t quite used to. “This is my place, you can’t be here.”
“This isn’t yours, it’s school property,” Lily said confidently, hoping that she was still in the school. (Everything was real, harsh and cold and she couldn’t quite believe she was still wrapped safely in her bed.)
He laughed, then, a low chuckle that ran through Lily’s body like lightning. “You’re in my world now, sweet, don’t think that you’re still safe at school.”
Lily tossed her head (defiance is always the key) and replied in her best Prefect voice, “If we aren’t at school, then, just where are we?”
A slithering sound, echoing and threatening, seemed to surround her, and Lily looked around for its source but saw only the cavern’s walls and dark shadows that could be concealing anything.
“You’re in the Chamber of Secrets,” the boy said, then hissed something that made gooseflesh run across Lily’s body. “I am Tom Marvolo Riddle.”
“I’ve never heard of you,” Lily said, trying to slowly back away from the boy as his eyes gleamed red and his grin turned predatory (she half-expected to see fangs dripping venom to slide into view, for him to rear back and strike, but he stood still, so still.)
“I am Lord Voldemort,” he continued, ignoring Lily until he heard her gasp.
“You’re just a boy,” she said, “How can you be that monster?”
His grin grew even wider, Lily in her horror half expected his jaw to simply unhinge (like a snake, her mind whispered unhelpfully, conjuring childhood fears of constrictors and suffocation) and swallow her whole.
“You’ve heard of my legend,” Tom said.
“You’re no legend,” Lily said. “Only a monster.”
He stepped closer, and Lily took another hasty step backwards, only to feel her bare feet fail to grip the slippery stone, sending her falling.
Strong arms caught her, wrapped around her (constricting her) and pulled her close as she screamed and fought to beat at her captor (savior) without avail.
“You are a sweet, terrified little rose,” he said, gently kissing her, his flickering tongue seeking out her secrets.
She attempted to bite him, claw him, attempted to overcome him but she was weak, too weak and all she could do was defy him a proper response, defy him the reaction he craved.
“You are mine, now,” he whispered, holding her tight as her eyes began to flutter a thousand miles away. “You will never escape me.”
Lily awoke, too terrified to scream.
in her, the fresh miracle of surprise
Lily Evans/Tom Riddle. PG, 891 words. Title taken from Jim Morrison's poetry.
*
Lily warily hurried down the narrow path, hoping she wouldn’t trip over the ragged ends of the enveloping grey cloak she’d bought to conceal her identity. Not that she was ashamed to be seen here, precisely, she just didn’t get the impression that Muggleborns were welcomed and she couldn’t risk being seen by one of her classmates and identified for who - and what - she was.
She was just beginning to doubt the existence of the place when she spied the tiny plaque beside a black-painted door.
She went inside, and ignored hatred in a hag’s eyes as she feigned confidence and made her request.
The bag with the phial felt heavier than it ought, weighed down with guilt and excitement, as she walked out of Knockturn Alley.
*
After deliberation, she chose to wait until she got back to Hogwarts to take the potion. It seemed wrong to do anything magical in her pale purple bedroom, with Mick Jagger and a ghostly image of Jim Morrison pouting down from her walls. (Sometimes she asked her posters questions, forgetting that here, they wouldn’t respond.)
The first day back was a bad one, with the newspaper filled with stories of murder and disappearances. Classmates whispered in voices shaking with terror and excitement, and Lily felt strangely detached from the whole notion of war and death and destruction.
Instead, she thought of her potion (fantasies coming to life in realistic dreams, like the real thing only better because it was a secret for her alone) and decided that tonight was the night, tonight she would spend with her dark-haired boy and find out if he was as right as she thought he was.
But as she curled up around her pillow, one of her dormmate’s tears (she’d lost a neighbor to them, Lily knew) interrupted her concentrated breathing (and her image of her would-be dream lover’s face) and Lily had time for one last thought before she slid under the spell: Who would do such a thing?
*
She started in her dream, looking around and wondering that she could be somewhere she had never been before while still in her mind.
Here, cold rock surrounded her, green water lapped at the pathway and giant carvings showed the face of a man she had seen pictured in Hogwarts: A History.
There was the shuffle of a shoe against stone, and Lily turned. For a half-moment, as the boy was caught between shadow and light, Lily thought the potion had worked and her would-be lover was standing there, but then he took another step forward.
“Who are you?” she managed, staring at the tall, handsome boy with familiar dark hair and cold eyes.
“I think the better question would be, who are you?” he countered immediately, raking over her body in a way that Lily wasn’t quite used to. “This is my place, you can’t be here.”
“This isn’t yours, it’s school property,” Lily said confidently, hoping that she was still in the school. (Everything was real, harsh and cold and she couldn’t quite believe she was still wrapped safely in her bed.)
He laughed, then, a low chuckle that ran through Lily’s body like lightning. “You’re in my world now, sweet, don’t think that you’re still safe at school.”
Lily tossed her head (defiance is always the key) and replied in her best Prefect voice, “If we aren’t at school, then, just where are we?”
A slithering sound, echoing and threatening, seemed to surround her, and Lily looked around for its source but saw only the cavern’s walls and dark shadows that could be concealing anything.
“You’re in the Chamber of Secrets,” the boy said, then hissed something that made gooseflesh run across Lily’s body. “I am Tom Marvolo Riddle.”
“I’ve never heard of you,” Lily said, trying to slowly back away from the boy as his eyes gleamed red and his grin turned predatory (she half-expected to see fangs dripping venom to slide into view, for him to rear back and strike, but he stood still, so still.)
“I am Lord Voldemort,” he continued, ignoring Lily until he heard her gasp.
“You’re just a boy,” she said, “How can you be that monster?”
His grin grew even wider, Lily in her horror half expected his jaw to simply unhinge (like a snake, her mind whispered unhelpfully, conjuring childhood fears of constrictors and suffocation) and swallow her whole.
“You’ve heard of my legend,” Tom said.
“You’re no legend,” Lily said. “Only a monster.”
He stepped closer, and Lily took another hasty step backwards, only to feel her bare feet fail to grip the slippery stone, sending her falling.
Strong arms caught her, wrapped around her (constricting her) and pulled her close as she screamed and fought to beat at her captor (savior) without avail.
“You are a sweet, terrified little rose,” he said, gently kissing her, his flickering tongue seeking out her secrets.
She attempted to bite him, claw him, attempted to overcome him but she was weak, too weak and all she could do was defy him a proper response, defy him the reaction he craved.
“You are mine, now,” he whispered, holding her tight as her eyes began to flutter a thousand miles away. “You will never escape me.”
Lily awoke, too terrified to scream.