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L'Hiver De Cendres by cyndect

Format: One-shot
Chapters: 1
Word Count: 739

Rating: 15+
Warnings: Mild Language, Scenes of a Mild Sexual Nature, Sensitive Topic/Issue/Theme

Genres: Drama, AU, Young Adult
Characters: OC

First Published: 04/25/2008
Last Chapter: 05/21/2008
Last Updated: 05/21/2008


She was the girl who always took the extra step at the top of the stairs. She was the girl who laughed too loud, and blushed when all was silent. She was the girl who never understood. But still, she knew.
gorgeous banner by Susan (Violet) @ TDA. You pwn, darling. ILY.

Chapter 1: She

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine, and never will be.
Author's Note:
This was a sort of confession for me, to face who I was during high school. It's not at all true, but the emotion behind it is sincere. I hope no one ever needs to go through that. I just felt it needed to be said. A big hug to Kalina for beta'ing it.
- Jacqueline


She was the girl who always stumbled when walking.

She was the girl who still sucked her thumb.

She was the girl who always showed too much emotion in her wide peach face and who by consequence was socially banned.

Those that she had thought of as her friends would hide their glee from her, at her, underneath.

She never understood why. But still, she knew.

She was pretty. Not as pretty as some, but enough so. Her face was rough with scars of acne, a layer of fat was emerging under her chin, and her face was too wide, too not pretty enough, too exuberant, but still, she was pretty.

She was never enough for anyone. Girls found her annoying, clingy. Boys, she guessed, thought of her as a little sister.

No one ever looked her way unless she called their name.

He looked at her, but that day she had been silent. She had a pretty voice, but no one wanted to appreciate it. She was a pretty girl gone to waste while other uglier, more sensuous girls enchanted the world. But they weren't uglier. She only wished they were.

There was no justice in the world.

She was the girl no one gave a second thought about. She was not the girl in a movie - though she had often imagined herself in the limelight.

How different it must be from the shadow, she decided.

She never understood why, she thought she was perfectly normal, perfectly interesting.

It was never enough.

She created whole universes for herself, always with her as the star, everyone fawning over her. She wished she was Harry Potter, he who was always stared at by all the girls of the school. She knew she could be just as not cruel to them as they had been to her, but vengeance was not on her mind.

She just wanted recognition. She never understood.

One night, she dreamt about death, and for her it was sweet.

She wondered, would anybody care? Would anybody remember her? Would they wear black? Would there be anyone at her final goodbye?

She knew there would, but she doubted the false emotions.

The song to play, she had already chosen. A simple song, just like her.

"Losing My Religion," by REM. Long ago, it had been her favorite.

She wished she could claim even that. She'd not had any religion to begin with.

She was always underestimated, but she could never prove her worth.

It was her confession that she had so desperately wanted to pen, but the words often never came.

Until she chose to lie.

The one boy who had looked at her the day she was quiet had never existed, and never would.

She felt herself burn, smolder, until the winds blew her apart and the winter of ashes began and ended and died.


He held her hand as she trembled on the broom. It was her dreamnight: she couldn't run. Her hands clasped the sleek wooden handle, and he smiled courteously, not caring, but she did.

And slowly she rose towards the sky full of stars, towards promises that could never be fulfilled. She was flying, and the boy with the black hair and glasses was smiling at her softly.

It wasn't enough for her, but she could live without enough, she had done so for so many years of her life.

Her want was only to fall, only to fail and watch as everyone other than her graduated to become great, to wave their wants and watch as snowflakes poured out of them to carpet the ground.

The woods around them were so still.

"That's right," he murmured. "You've got it."

She slowly put one foot on the handle, and one near the tail, and let go entirely with her hands.

For a moment, without the broom, she was flying. She was free. She could feel the tears stinging her cheeks.

Then she fell tumbling, back into her winter of ashes, towards broken bones and certain death.