Lessie's POV:
Everything came in flashes of bright lights and flames. One second, I was gasping for air and screaming in pain surrounded by swirling blurs murmuring. I could make out the vague shapes of people dressed in white, moving frantically. I tried to focus but the pain was so intense my sight faulted, and someone was screaming, crying, pleading. Was it me?
One of the shapes stepped forward blocking out the offense brightness, then I was back in darkness. No feeling, just silence. My body was floating in a liminal space. There was a whisper in my ear, that had the semblance of words, but I couldn't quite place it.
_-_-_-_-_-_
I opened my eyes and found my self in a light pink room. Floral motifs decorated the walls, ivy and vines finishing off in plush blooms. The rest of the room totted walnut colored wooden furniture. A small desk covered in parchment, books and various knick-knacks sat in the corner with a matching bureau to its right. Picture frames showed a smiling seven-year-old me with my parents at a couple different events.
I looked down at my hands and found them smooth and unscarred, softer than I was used to.
What is going on?
I was pulled from my thoughts at the sounds of a gruff baritone voice.
"Toasts done! Get it while it's hot!"
I sat up, breathing rapidly, and set my feet on the floor. My body moved of its own accord as if I was merely a passenger, locked in. Socks encased my feet; the soft wool climbed my legs stopping just below my mid-thigh. Followed by an old pair of knee breeches that had once been a deep cerulean, faded and dulled by overuse. My hands buttoned me into a billowy overshirt with sleeves the reminded me of a pirate from one of those action novels, followed by a vest. I took a keen into the mirror attached to the wall and smile at myself.
Once dressed I made my way out of the room towards the baritone and the scent of fresh baked bread and lingonberry jam. The spiral staircase creaked under my feet as I descended into a homey kitchen, modest in size with a small square table in front of a fireplace. The owner of the voice sat with a steaming cup of tea and a large tome opened on the table in front of them, carefully scribbling notes into the margins.
They looked up and smiled, deep set blue eyes emanating warmth as they motioned to the stool across from them. A hand raked through their black fizzy hair pulling it back behind an ear, before returning to pick up the quill and resume their scribbles.
"Can you believe that Grover and Talpin thought that the Purvian Glowback and the Vipertooth were one in the same up until 1864? It's absurd!" He shook his head in consternation, the scribbling stopping once more, and they made to pick up a piece of toast.
"Well, we can't all be prodigies in our respective fields now can we Uncle Barney?" I let out a snort and mimicked his actions picking up a thick slice. I took the knife resting in the jar, scooping out a ludicrous amount of jam and slathered it on the warm bread as he continued the conversation.
"That is true, however I still can't understand how these men can call themselves Dragonologists when they refuse to meet these creatures half way. Think of all the wonderful discoveries we could make if only more wizards focused on the behavior behind motivations instead of classifying them as dangerous."
I rolled my eyes, savoring the sweetness of the lingonberries. I eyed the kettle debating on tea or water with my meal. Watching my eyes parry between the two options, Uncle Barnabas flicked his finger, using a non-verbal spell and the kettle came over pouring out a steady stream into my cup.
YOU ARE READING
Between Comfort and Chaos
Fanfiction"The ripple effects of 5th year still echoed like a wound that refused to heal. As soon as we had stepped foot onto the campus grounds Sebastian had hunted me down demanding to know why he was given another roommate, as if he had not betrayed me, ca...
