(no subject)
Jun. 13th, 2007 12:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
swatkatIt's raining. It's been raining since yesterday night, and it's still raining. After the past few days of stifling heat and humidity, it's *finally* raining. And the weather reports are being non-committal as usual, but it feels like monsoon to me.
*
Cleaning up the hard-drive a bit, I discovered this - an old post-OotP Hermione fic snippet with interesting possibilities. I don't intend to do anything with it, since I have no idea what I was trying to do with it in the beginning, but thought I'd post it here nonetheless.
This Rough Magic
*
The summer after their Fifth Year, the Ministry of Magic officially withdraws the Underage Magic Act. Minister Fudge appears in front of the press, nervous and flustered, explaining that in the light of recent developments, it's the only possible step he could take – allow the children to defend themselves.
That evening, Hermione takes up practising the Imperius Curse.
Two days later, when her father expresses his surprise over the astonishingly docile behaviour of the neighbours' abominable dog, she moves on to the Cruciatus curse.
The day before Hermione leaves for Hogwarts, she hears her mother complain about Crookshanks leaving dead rats all over the house ('That cat is really getting out of hand, dear') and swears to be more careful in the future.
*
Harry remains quiet and depressed through the first few days of Sixth Year; until the day he takes her and Ron to their favourite spot beside the lake and tells them about a prophecy and how he must kill Voldemort or be killed by him.
The next evening, she tells him that it’s time he started learning the Unforgivables.
'Can you -,' whispers Ron in awe.
'I tried it during summer,' she shrugs.
'You have to mean it,' says Harry, looking very uncertain. 'Bellatrix Lestrange told me that you’d have to mean it to make the curses work.'
'You can do it,' she assures him.
They practise throughout the year.
*
Hermione kills her first human in her Seventh Year, during the first wave of Death Eater attacks on Hogwarts.
It takes her almost two weeks before she can sleep properly again.
She remembers the dazzling flash of green light; the look on Dolohov’s face when the curse hit him on the chest; the horrifying stillness afterwards. But mostly, she remembers the rush of magic that surged through her veins when she hit him with the curse.
*
Harry kills Voldemort after a long and bloody battle – 'I can't remember everything that happened,' he tells her when she asks about it – and the War is over. The remaining Death Eaters either surrender, or escape abroad.
'We must now rebuild our world,' Dumbledore declares in a speech.
The world must be rebuilt, and the Ministry needs fresh minds and young blood to do so; and so Hermione joins and becomes Junior Undersecretary at the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement. She spends her days helping Percy Weasley redraft the Wizard-Muggle relations laws and making plans for a safer, more humane Azkaban minus the Dementors.
She tells herself she doesn't miss the magic, doesn't miss the exhilaration that comes with it.
But at nights, she dreams of Dolohov, of the look on his face and the energy rushing through her veins, and she knows that she's lying after all.
*
*
Cleaning up the hard-drive a bit, I discovered this - an old post-OotP Hermione fic snippet with interesting possibilities. I don't intend to do anything with it, since I have no idea what I was trying to do with it in the beginning, but thought I'd post it here nonetheless.
This Rough Magic
*
The summer after their Fifth Year, the Ministry of Magic officially withdraws the Underage Magic Act. Minister Fudge appears in front of the press, nervous and flustered, explaining that in the light of recent developments, it's the only possible step he could take – allow the children to defend themselves.
That evening, Hermione takes up practising the Imperius Curse.
Two days later, when her father expresses his surprise over the astonishingly docile behaviour of the neighbours' abominable dog, she moves on to the Cruciatus curse.
The day before Hermione leaves for Hogwarts, she hears her mother complain about Crookshanks leaving dead rats all over the house ('That cat is really getting out of hand, dear') and swears to be more careful in the future.
*
Harry remains quiet and depressed through the first few days of Sixth Year; until the day he takes her and Ron to their favourite spot beside the lake and tells them about a prophecy and how he must kill Voldemort or be killed by him.
The next evening, she tells him that it’s time he started learning the Unforgivables.
'Can you -,' whispers Ron in awe.
'I tried it during summer,' she shrugs.
'You have to mean it,' says Harry, looking very uncertain. 'Bellatrix Lestrange told me that you’d have to mean it to make the curses work.'
'You can do it,' she assures him.
They practise throughout the year.
*
Hermione kills her first human in her Seventh Year, during the first wave of Death Eater attacks on Hogwarts.
It takes her almost two weeks before she can sleep properly again.
She remembers the dazzling flash of green light; the look on Dolohov’s face when the curse hit him on the chest; the horrifying stillness afterwards. But mostly, she remembers the rush of magic that surged through her veins when she hit him with the curse.
*
Harry kills Voldemort after a long and bloody battle – 'I can't remember everything that happened,' he tells her when she asks about it – and the War is over. The remaining Death Eaters either surrender, or escape abroad.
'We must now rebuild our world,' Dumbledore declares in a speech.
The world must be rebuilt, and the Ministry needs fresh minds and young blood to do so; and so Hermione joins and becomes Junior Undersecretary at the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement. She spends her days helping Percy Weasley redraft the Wizard-Muggle relations laws and making plans for a safer, more humane Azkaban minus the Dementors.
She tells herself she doesn't miss the magic, doesn't miss the exhilaration that comes with it.
But at nights, she dreams of Dolohov, of the look on his face and the energy rushing through her veins, and she knows that she's lying after all.
*
