Century #33
Prompt: Hear No Evil
Words: 261
When she was a very young girl, Ginny liked to play a game. It was a simple game, and one that she could play by herself in the spare moments she was by herself.
All it consisted of was sitting, putting her hands over her ears, and closing her eyes.
In this small way, Ginny blocked out the world and everything she didn't like. She wasn't a depressed youth by any means and her game generally only occurred when she was grumpy at being denied something, such as an ice-cream at Diagon Alley, and just wanted to be alone. She was invariably found and tugged back to family and cheerfulness and as she grew, slowly forgot all about the game.
When he was a very young man, Draco liked to play a game. It was a simple game, and one he could play by himself in the hours he spent locked alone in his cell.
All it consisted of was sitting, putting his hands over his ears, and closing his eyes.
It didn't really block anything out, because the screams were pretty much all in his head. The Dementors weren't stopped by hands over ears; and memories grew strong no matter where the eyes were aimed. Still, the game offered Draco a strange comfort he couldn't quite explain. He felt like he wasn't alone, but at the same time wasn't trapped in his memories. Days at a time passed with Draco immersed in this game, but although he only drew sparse minutes of comfort, it was comfort and that was enough.
Words: 261
When she was a very young girl, Ginny liked to play a game. It was a simple game, and one that she could play by herself in the spare moments she was by herself.
All it consisted of was sitting, putting her hands over her ears, and closing her eyes.
In this small way, Ginny blocked out the world and everything she didn't like. She wasn't a depressed youth by any means and her game generally only occurred when she was grumpy at being denied something, such as an ice-cream at Diagon Alley, and just wanted to be alone. She was invariably found and tugged back to family and cheerfulness and as she grew, slowly forgot all about the game.
When he was a very young man, Draco liked to play a game. It was a simple game, and one he could play by himself in the hours he spent locked alone in his cell.
All it consisted of was sitting, putting his hands over his ears, and closing his eyes.
It didn't really block anything out, because the screams were pretty much all in his head. The Dementors weren't stopped by hands over ears; and memories grew strong no matter where the eyes were aimed. Still, the game offered Draco a strange comfort he couldn't quite explain. He felt like he wasn't alone, but at the same time wasn't trapped in his memories. Days at a time passed with Draco immersed in this game, but although he only drew sparse minutes of comfort, it was comfort and that was enough.