~570 wordsAsh's POV unless said otherwise
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I was woken up by my alarm ringing, signalling it was time to get up. Groaning, I opened one eye to quickly turn it off and go back to sleep, but I knew I couldn't. Today, I had to clean my flat because of my mother visiting.
As I got up and dressed for the day, I could almost hear my mother sighing in my head, talking about how even as a 37 yo grown up man, I still wasn't capable of properly taking care of my home. Well, sure, the voice was right, it can be proved by the pile of dishes laying in the sink for weeks, the dirty clothes littered all around the place and , of course, the multiple books forming towers of varying heights and making the whole flat a litteral labyrinth; but that didn't mean that I had to be lectured about it ! It was my life for God's sake, not hers or my father's !
Anyway. After rapidly eating a bowl of cereal and washing the dishes, the kitchen was relatively clean. I then began to pick up the dirty clothes, put them all in the washing machine, and started the washing program.
I then started to try and find a place to put all my books because my mother probably would burn them all if she saw them piled up randomly like that. After a long minute of thinking, I eventually decided on just moving them in my bedroom so my mother wouldn't see them. I'd find a better solution later.
As I was taking my books little by little to my room, I found in one of the piles something interesting : the notebook my grand father offered to me when I was 10. According to him, it's a family heirloom from the first of the Lancaster family that came to live in, well, Lancaster. I think that man's name was John of Gaunt.
I picked up the notebook and suddenly, as if I was attracted by some kind of magic, I dropped everything else and opened it.
I opened it at the first page and immediately read what was in it. It was, for the most part, the diary of a ten year old boy - me - and there wasn't really anything interesting in it.
Quickly flipping the pages to find what attracted me in the first place, I came across a page in which fourteen year old me described a dream he had about being Harry Potter's best friend and saving him from dying at the hand of Voldemort. It's true that at that time, I was a huge fan of J.K. Rowling's series, so that dream wasn't exactly surprising.
All of a sudden, as I was remembering my childhood and my love for Harry Potter, the writing in the book started glowing red.
Startled, I dropped the notebook, before feeling a terrible, enormous pain erupting in my entire body. It felt like my skin was being ripped off my flesh, each of my bones broken and my brain completely crushed. Black dots started clouding my vision and I fell to my knees.
I wanted to scream, call for help but instead of producing any sound I started vomiting blood. I could feel myself slowly loosing consciousness and the last thing I saw was the notebook's writing vanishing, the page becoming blank, and the book closing on itself.
YOU ARE READING
The Dark Lord's Muggle Lover
FanfictionAsh Lancaster was a normal 37 y-o muggle man, whose main occupation was writing and reading fantasy novels. One day he decides to reopen the notebook his grandfather had once given him as a family heirloom, and read its content. All of a sudden, As...