Post by anastasia on Apr 20, 2009 19:59:21 GMT -6
'Empty chairs at empty tables,
Where my friends will sing no more.'
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[/size]The library was vacant, dust beginning to collect on the still forms that sat through the vast hall, from the shelves that held the many thousands of books, to the tables and chairs that were normally occupied by the various other students in the school. It was absolutely silent, without the sounds of feet shufflin along the floor, or books being thrown back into their places on the shelf. The librarian was not sending death glares toward those who spoke in hushed tones, nor hushing them with her quick tongue. No, there was not a soul in the library, not one.
At least, not at first glance.
But at the very back, concealed behind the oak shelves and heavy volumes of parchment boun in leather, was a table with a single candle on it, throwing light out in every direction it possibly could. For a moment, a pair of deep brown eyes marvelled at the light it shed in such a vast amount of darkness before turning quickly to the book that lay on the table of mahogany before her. It was rather large in appearance, the cover a simple black with lettering engraved in gold, bold against the darkness of the front. 'The Battle of Hogwarts,' it read.
Setting the candle on the table, she opened the book, hearing the familiar creek of a spine that hadn't been open in quite sometime. A small smile appeared on her lips when she turned the first page, reading the index that would lead her through the book, section by section. But she had no desire to skip through anything, feeling a deep need to read each piece of information as it was written, trying to piece together the similarities of today with yesterday. In a world as unstable as the one they lived in, Anastasia Wood couldn't help but feel there were things in the past, namely twenty-five years ago, that were beginning to happen again, in a time that she was around to witness.
The very first page made her pause out of respect, slender fingers trailing slowly down the page, touching each name as she went. An entire page of the book had been dedicated to those who had fought for the Order of the Phoenix, for those who had lost their lives in both of the previous wars of good versus evil. Lily Potter, James Potter, Sirius Black, Alastor Moody, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Nymphadora Tonks, Fred Weasley....each name gave another reason for the fight to continue, even with Voldemort having been killed all those years ago by a teenaged wizard. Since that time, the wizarding world had lived in peace, or as peaceful as it could become, considering the type of people they had evolved to become.
From there, the text began to tell of the very first war, from the time when the name of Lord Voldemort had first spread terror through every heart that heard the name. Lives had been lost there as well, almost as many that were lost nearly twenty years later, when the entire thing started again. And from there, it also expanded on The Boy Who Lived, the one who later became known as the Chosen One, the Saviour, the one who brought about Voldemort's end. He was a man now, with a family of his own. He had not died, as was once thought, but survived in time to kill Voldemort before anyone else was killed. Her respect for him was unending, as a student, as a scholar, as a witch.
A sudden noise made her look up, eyes wide as they darted around the room, searching in the blackness for signs of another body, or anything that could have been the source of the noise. She saw not a thing, but Anya knew that someone was there, watching from the shadows that made it impossible for her to see them at all. Her face knit into a tight frown, one hand slipping out of sight to grip the wand that lay, ready and waiting, in the pocket of her jeans. Her finger's wrapped themselves firmly around the end, elbow tensed, waiting for the chance to strike if needed.
"Show yourself now, or risk being hexed and in St. Mungo's," she warned, voice dead serious in word. "This is your only warning."
For a moment, there was nothing. Not a sound filled the library at all. Anya sat perfectly still in her chair, ears opened to every and any sound that might come after. Though patient, the girl was not willing to wait for long, even in those conditions. It was late enough that no one should be out and about, including her. But this thought only made her slightly more nervous of who could possibly be there, watching and waiting.
Word Count: 864
Time of Day: Night
Listening To: If I Were A Bell - Guys & Dolls
Mood: Extremely Pissed