[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 2 : Who are you? Part 2
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 1|
Background: Font color:
To anyone who walked into the classroom at that very moment, they would have been very surprised. It is not often you 30 students and a teacher asleep at their desks. On closer inspection one would find that these students were not asleep but unconscience and covered in purple soot. It would not have been a usual sight... if it were not Horwarts.
A blonde headed girl begins to stir, her small eyes moving behind her closed eyelids. It was as if she were having a bad dream. She turns her head to the side and lets out a small moan. She opens her eyes slowly, unsure of what she is going to see. Once opens, she stifles a small scream and leaps from her chair. She looks around her, frightened of were she is. Silently, she backsinto the corner of the room and slides down onto her knees. She places her face in her hands and starts crying.
The loud sobbing emananting from the girl is enough to stir some of the other sleepers, rousing them from dreams bad enough to scare an adult. Dreams of wizards and witches. Dreams of good and evil.
A red headed boy suddenly lifts his head from the desk searching the room, a mirror image of the blonde girl. He is scared shitless. As he steps backwards, he knocks over his chair. It clatters, the sound like lightning, causing everyone in the room to wake abruptly.
Thirty confused faces turn to face each other. Some start to cry, other get really angry. A blonde headed boy, his hair slick over his head, throws his chair across the room, not caring who he could hit. Screams as the chair shatters, the sound surprising the occupants of the room.
Most of the chldren sit in quiet panic, watching their companions warily. The man who was atthe front of the room has made his way to the man floor. He exudes a kind of confidence, but it it obvious in his coal-black eyes that he knows not what is going on, just like the children. He is not not willing to talk to anyone but lets them know how highly he thinks he should be thought of by the looks he gives.
One boy seems to be taking charge. He is small, with brown hair and think black glasses. His curious eyes dart from student to student, not understanding what is happening but knowing that something was wong. He goes up to the blonde girl who woke first. She is still crying in the corner, her sobs the louded element in the room. He goes to her and put his handon her knee. Shelook up at him with bid, deer eyes and shrinks away from his touch, the contact not comforting but frightning.
The brown-headed boy moves away, his brow crinkled, his lips pursed. He has no idea what is happening. He looks around the room and sees and girl sitting quietly at her desk. She is calm, not panic calm but truely calm, the calmest person in the room. She sits there and looks about her. The boy could practically see her mind trying to work out what is going on. He moves over to her and places his hand on her shoulder. She jumps a little and turns to him but does not shrink away. Her eyes boar down on him, looking through him and into him. Her eyes begin to squint and she raises her hand up to the boy's forehead, brushing the hair away. She sees a small scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. She seems to clam at this, tracing her finger over it.
The boys stares at the girl and watches her pat down her untamed brown hair and move her hands over her smooth face, as if exploring new territory. She seems to panic a little at this point, confusion crossing her large brown eyes. Finally getting the nerve to speak, the boy kneels down infront of her:
“Are you okay?”
The girl nods, tears beginning to spill from her eyes and tracing tiny rivers down her full checks. She looks at the boy again, her innocence shinning out at him and she speaks:
“Who are you?”
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
The Love Of ...
Always get w...