''J'ecris avec ou sans raison, mais toujours avec passion.''Disclaimer: I do not own any of the HP chaaracters or settings or plots or things or spells or other amazingly wonderful things that JK Rowling has created within the series. As the Lexicon people will find out soon enough, the HP world belongs to her!
A Rid of Blind Solitude
She is alone, completely alone. She doesn't even know where she is. Her brown eyes, unable to see or be seen, are covered by a blindfold, pressed tightly against her skin. She doesn't know why it's there; she simply awoke this way, everything dark and blank. She believes it's night though, somehow feeling engulfed by the darkess yet singled out by the moonlight. Reaching out, she feels the ground around her. It's cold, like stone, but feels like it's been permanently polished centuries ago. She imagines a vast space around her, a grey marble tiled floor. She pushed herself up, trying to somehow see the areaa she stands in, even with her eyes shut and blindfolded. There is barely any sound around her, no presence, only after a moment a noise reaches her ears; it is the soft trickling sound of a stream, or perhaps a fountain... The air around her is neither damp or dry, simply... there. It seems so empty, like a dream, someplace where nothing is real yet everything is possible...
She takes a step forward. The same cold stone, nothing more- yet she realizes that she is bare foot, and develops a sudden interest in her state of appearance. Curiously, like a blind child, she bends down and touches her toes with the tips of her fingers. Slowly, she slides them up her leg, which is as soft and bare till the knee: there, she feels the lace of a dress, and further on the texture of thin, silky fabric. It seems to be her night dress, the last thing she recalls putting on, and this before going to bed and falling asleep, the last thing she recalls doing. The curious questions hit- why is she here? How did she get there, who or what moved her and blinded her? Though she could dig much further into her memories, she knows that this place is not familiar and she hasn't ever been there. Is this, perhaps, only a dream?
Another step forward. She feels humiliated, like a child learning to live and love without eyes again. Even though no one is watching her, or at least- no one that she knows of their presence. She could at least try to remove the blindfold, yet this is strangely addictive and intresting, much more interesting... Besides, it must be there for a reason. Why would someone move her somewhere, place material on her eyes and let her go? << It simply can't come off, >> she predicts to herself. And so she decides to continue her quest to quench her thirst for answers, starting by where she finished. She gently places her hand where she had stopped- her right hip. The fabric dragging along as she goes, she slides her fingers upwards and rests her hand on her stomach. She loosens it slightly, and the silky material beneath her palm softly falls back into place, along the lines of her hip, covering it again. Her palm, along with her fingers, makes its way to her chest, and for a moment stops to feel the slow, regular pounding of her heart, and continues onto bare skin, passing the lace neck of the dress. Her skin is soft as a baby's, neither warm or cold. Pressing her fingers to her neck, she feels once again her heartbeat, the blood pulsing through her veins. She absently runs a hand across her face, feeling her lips, her nose, and her shut brown eyes. Her long used fingers run through her brown, curly hair, splitting each wave and pushing them all back away from her face. Finally her hand drops down to her side again, and she simply stands there silently, with her eyes closed, taking in this examination, trying to understand... where is she? why? are the questions that remain.
Suddenly, a sound of ruffling leaves. She backs away, as the footsteps start, into what seems to be a hedge at least as tall as her. There is no time to examine; someone's approaching. Slowly, as the deep breathing gets close to her, she raises her arms to shield her face. But nothing happens, no one strikes. << Don't hurt me! >> she pleads. << I didn't intend to. >> The voice is strangely familiar, even somewhat comforting. But why does it calm her so suddenly? Curiously, she reaches out in front of her. Her fingers meet a smooth skin, very soft, and then move up to touch the ever familiar hair, slightly wavy, with that amazing smell of... She pauses. Her fingers are shaking, though she doesn't know why. They gently make their down to a deep hole in the skull; his eyes. She feels the eyelids closing beneath her fingers, and then the hand grasping her wrist rather gently. She does not resist. << Why? >> is the first question to escape her lips, yet she gets no answer. They share a silent moment.
Aware of who it is, of how much she's glad to have someone by her side, she leaps into his arms. << Why? >> she asks again. He simultaneously presses his index finger to her lips and laughs. << You'll see, just be patient a few seconds. >> She nods, and places her palms on both of his cheeks. They're warm, like velvet. She slowly takes a step forward, leans in and softly kisses him. His arms slide down her back, wrapped around her like they never want to let go. Did he miss her, or was this all planned in the last hour? She lets his face go and wraps her arms around his neck. He kisses her more passionately than he ever has. A burning passion, a desire for this moment to last forever- that is what she feels. His lips are entirely the same, soft a flower petals and as kissable as baby skin, yet they have a different energy tonight. The kiss is more devoted, more excited than ever. But why? What makes him so anxious?
She reaches behind her and grabs his hands, bringing them in front of her. She doesn't let them go, but their lips part and he opens his eyes again. He hugs her, yet again seeming nervous about something. She doesn't hug him back, but lets him hold her and bury her head in his shoulder. He whispers into her ear: << I've got a surprise for you, >> he breathes to her, and they split up. Quietly, he walks behind her, and the way he holds her arm she knows not to move. She hears the whooshing sound of a cloak and the soft casting of a spell. Even though the knot behind her head is loose, she doesn't open her eyes The blindfold falls to the floor silently, freeing fer world of the engulfing darkness and suffocatino lack of space. Finally, she flings her eyes open.
She is filled with surprise as she sees what's around her- how right she was. The floors are tiled with marble, slightly cracked and quite shiny in the moonlight. The circular area, which is neither a room or a garden, is surrounded by a very high hedge, open at certain areas as if it's a type of maze, opened by passages here and there. There is, in fact, still the sound of a quiet stream or fountain, though it isn't in sight. The place is beautiful- it seems to come straight out of a fantasy or fairytale. She now knows where she is, what she looks like, what time it is and who is with her, yet there is a piece of the puzzle missing.
<< Why did you take me here? >> she asks, smiling at him. He does not answer; their eyes meet, and lock in contact. As they simply stand there looking into the depths of eachother's eyes, he takes hold of her left hand and takes something from his pocket. She doesn't dare look at something but his blazing blue eyes. Her heart is pounding. Her whole body is shaking. As the metallic cold hits her finger, she shudders a bit, but not from pain. Pure golden silence. A ring slides onto her finger. She sees it shine from the corner of her eue. Though his hand lets hers go and drops to his side, they do not stop looking at eachother. Her eyes burn with the passion and excitement she now understands, with love, as they water and sting. He slowly leans down and kisses her softly, only once. She nervously brings her left hand to level with her face and lowers her eyes to examine it. On her fourth finger rests a beautiful, golden diamond rign, embracing the shapes of her joints as ornaments wrap themselves against her skin. The ring is perfectly coordinated with the fantastic theme of the setting, as if it had all been planned. She looks up at him. << For me? >> she whispers, her eyes swimming in tears, smiling as much as she can through the shock. He nods; he loves her, he truly does, and she truly loves him back. He softly places a hand on her head and begins to stroke her hair gently, as if concentrated on every curl he touches. And finally all is clear, she knows, she understands. Her thirst for answers is quenched, her hunger for the rid of this blind solitude filled. And finally he speaks to her the words that matter so much. << Will you marry me? >> asks Ron. She replies with the word that should be most valuable to a man, to this man... << Yes! >> answers Hermione.
La fin!
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Voila, c'est fini! I hope it wasn't too weird or anything, haha. Well, either way it doesn't matter what you thought- I'd love to get some feedback, as always.