(no subject)
Title: Daisies
Author:
laundrylove
Rating: PG13
Prompt Set: 100.1
Prompt: 069. Corruption
Word Count: 1,795
Summary: Ariana plays alone in the woods, and the Muggles who find her aren't as pleasant as she hoped.
Warnings: There are definite references to rape, hence why it's PG13.
"So Rabbity Babitty hopped alone," Ariana sang to herself, wiggling her toes in the clear lake water before her. "Down to the stream where he made his home." She looked up at the sky, streaked with all hues of pink and orange, and scrabbled to her feet. Mama had told her to come back to the house before dusk, and it was getting near time. Not bothering to continue her song along the way, Ariana half ran, half skipped, through the light smattering of trees surrounding the back of her house. Only when she could see its warm yellow paint peeking over the evergreens did she pause and peer towards the sky, pleased to find that she still had a few minutes before dusk settled around her.
Ariana sat down in the cool grass, playing absently with a leaf to her side. She would much rather be out in the warm autumn breeze than inside the house, watching Albus and Aberforth play wizard's chess and telling her she was too little to play, and watching Mama cook dinner expertly with her wand and telling her she was too little to help.
"Down by the stream he made his friends," she sang quietly, picking up her song where she had left off. It was one of her favourites. "This is where Rabbity Babbity's sweet tale ends." For a moment Ariana was silent, a little disappointed she had reached the end of the song, yet not quite ready to sing it again. It was a long song, after all, and just last week she had had a sore throat. Her nose wrinkled delicately as she remembered the horrid medicine Mama had ordered from St. Mungo's- the gritty substance reminded her of when Albus had dared her to drink some of the water from the earthier, muddier side of the lake one afternoon.
"All the garden gnomes went out to play- how many got, thrown away?" she chimed on inspiration, recalling a came of skipping rope she had played with the girls from neighboring houses once before using that rhyme. With a small smirk, Ariana thought smugly of the fact that a whole ten of her gnomes had gotten thrown away, while Ethel had only thrown away two measly gnomes.
Lacking a skipping rope, however, made that rhyme become boring quickly, and absently she picked daisies from their sparse populations in the grass. Of course, regular daisies didn't bloom until well into spring at Mould-on-the-Wold, but Daddy had found a special kind at the Herbology Shop in Diagon Alley that would stay put all year round. Ariana had been delighted with them, and ever since daisies were a common sight in the Dumbledore family's backyard.
Barely paying attention, Ariana began to weave the stems together expertly, a lone skill that only she possessed. She had tried to teach Al and Abe how to weave daisy crowns, but Al had proclaimed it too childish, and Abe had gotten frustrated after his second ruined crown, and they had both been content to let her have this small victory in life, being the only one able to make crowns out of flowers.
The sky grew steadily darker. Twilight was passing before her eyes; Ariana dutifully twisting the stems together one by one, intent on finished her treasure. Finally she looked up, anguished to find that it was nearly time for her to go home, lest Mama become angry with her for staying out too late. However, she found it difficult to leave her half-finished crown lonely and abandoned on the floor of the woods, so she compromised by weaving faster. When this only served to make her hurried fingers fumble and snap several stems, Ariana sighed piteously and stared hard at her crown, willing it to spin itself together.
And it did.
She gasped and leaned closer as something coursed from inside of her out into the open air, swelling across the grass until it reached its destination of the crown, and Ariana thought she saw a sparkle of something hit the daisies, but she couldn’t be sure-whatever it was, it was twining the daisy stems together faster than she ever could have, neater than she ever could have. She became conscious of the fact that she was holding her hand out towards the flowers, and something innate told her not to drop her hand, lest the thing stop weaving.
For several glorious moments, Ariana simply sat and watched her crown create itself. When the final two stems had secured themselves together, she was anguished as the crown slowly went limp on the ground. The thing, the spark, was glimmering, about to leave forever.
“Don’t go,” she murmured, reaching out.
“Hey!”
She whipped around, her fingers clenching around her treasure. She felt several petals fall off in her hand, brushing against her fingers with a smooth silkiness.
“Hey, did you see what she just did?!”
Ariana looked around frantically-it was now fully dark, and the voices seemed to be coming from different directions. She strained her eyes, trying to see past the trees and bushes that were surrounding her. Mama was going to be angry when she got home so late.
“What the hell?”
Suddenly there were hands on her shoulders. Ariana twisted around, knocking the hands away from her, scrabbling not to crush her crown beneath her as she fell back into a sitting position.
“What did you just do?”
Her eyes still wrenched from place to place, trying to discern human shape from shadows. She knew that there was someone standing above her, and he had a voice that was low and gravelly-but besides that, nothing.
“I asked you what you did!”
All Ariana had time to note was that the boy’s voice sounded oddly frightened before there was a stinging sensation on her cheek-she gave a small cry and fell farther, so that she was lying on her back, her daisy crown still clutched desperately in her hand, which was twisted strangely up into the blue-black sky.
“What’s up with her?”
The other voice was high and quick, but still most definitely male. Ariana breathed in deeply, not trying to move. Her arms were shaking, and she thought she might fall again. There was a heavy feeling in her stomach, and her dress was skewed over to the side of her legs.
“Hey, girl!”
She felt herself being dragged up onto her feet by a rough hand. The voice that spoke this time was loud and booming, and it made her heart flip inside her chest. What would Al do?
Her knees were barely able to hold her up. “She’s gonna fall again.”
“So sit her up.”
“Fine!”
There was a strange place inside her brain, Ariana discovered at that moment, which allowed her to completely remove herself from what was happening. She didn’t know what exactly what was going on, but she did know that it was making bile rise in her throat. Mama would be mad at her.
She was pushed against a tree so her legs wouldn’t give way. It was uncomfortable, but that place inside her brain didn’t let her feel that. Odd. She would have to tell Al and Abe about it.
“What the hell is wrong with her? She’s not moving.”
“Who cares? She’s just some freak.”
“I bet she’s retarded.”
“Well then, she won’t remember this.”
Her shoulder was cold, chillingly, bitingly, cold. From that special place in her mind, Ariana couldn’t tell that this was because her dress had been ripped off and pulled down her arm. There were spots of coolness all along her collarbone-her eyes closed automatically. She hoped Mama wouldn’t be too bad.
“Get back, let me have a turn.”
The rest of her was cold, too. Her dress was ripping, tearing, and Ariana drew in a shuddering breath. Maybe Al and Abe would finally teach her to place chess at home and she really wasn’t feeling this at all and this place in her mind was wonderful she didn’t feel one thing at all except just a little chilly and-
“No,” she whimpered. Her whole entire body was freezing, and her back was still pressed against the tree, but it was bare, and there was bark scratching her. “No.”
“Shut her up, would you?”
Ariana closed her eyes again. Maybe thing glimmering thing would come back and help her, please, let it come back and help her-
Her hands grew warm and she could feel her daisy crown under her bare foot. The petals were soft and smooth, and she prayed for the glimmering thing. Make this all go away.
“Holy shit-”
“What’s coming out of her hand?!”
“Make her stop!”
Ariana gasped. A hand connected with her cheek again, and she stumbled away from the tree, falling onto her stomach. She felt several stems on her crown rip, and tears brimmed in her eyes.
“Is she normal?!”
“Maybe she’s psycho.”
“I’ll bet she’s a witch.”
There was silence. Ariana was sure they heard her heart pounding-Mama said they weren’t to tell people they were magic, and oh, Mama would be so happy to find out she did her first bit of it, all by herself…
“Hey.” Someone forced her head up, her neck making a sickening crack. “Magic’s evil, you know that, right?”
“No,” she whispered, craning her head away. Anything to avoid looking at him. His hands were rough and made her shiver deep down into her bones.
“She has some serious problems.”
“Magic’s goddamn evil.”
“So tell her that!”
One of them pulled her up by the arm, his fingers leaving cruel white marks on her skin. “Never-do-magic.”
“No,” she murmured again. Her mind felt dreamy, and she counted out the slaps to the face she received-one, two, three.
“Can she say anything else?”
“Let’s find out.”
Ariana tried desperately to reenter that safe place inside her head where she didn’t feel anything besides numbness-but it was gone, slipped away, and all she felt was hard and hot and wet and oh God that hurts so bad.
“Stop!”
--
When they were gone, all she could find of her daisy crown were bits and pieces and snippets strewn about the grass, coloured a sharp bright yellow that had never before made her eyes hurt so badly. She picked them up one by one, trying not to let the lightness burn her sight.
“Just like me,” she giggled, strewing all the petals through the air, letting them tangle in her hair. She laughed madly, leaning against the tree that she could vaguely recall leaning on before. She ignored the blood streaked down the bark and cackled again.
I’m a daisy. I’m a daisy.
Author:
laundrylove
Rating: PG13
Prompt Set: 100.1
Prompt: 069. Corruption
Word Count: 1,795
Summary: Ariana plays alone in the woods, and the Muggles who find her aren't as pleasant as she hoped.
Warnings: There are definite references to rape, hence why it's PG13.
"So Rabbity Babitty hopped alone," Ariana sang to herself, wiggling her toes in the clear lake water before her. "Down to the stream where he made his home." She looked up at the sky, streaked with all hues of pink and orange, and scrabbled to her feet. Mama had told her to come back to the house before dusk, and it was getting near time. Not bothering to continue her song along the way, Ariana half ran, half skipped, through the light smattering of trees surrounding the back of her house. Only when she could see its warm yellow paint peeking over the evergreens did she pause and peer towards the sky, pleased to find that she still had a few minutes before dusk settled around her.
Ariana sat down in the cool grass, playing absently with a leaf to her side. She would much rather be out in the warm autumn breeze than inside the house, watching Albus and Aberforth play wizard's chess and telling her she was too little to play, and watching Mama cook dinner expertly with her wand and telling her she was too little to help.
"Down by the stream he made his friends," she sang quietly, picking up her song where she had left off. It was one of her favourites. "This is where Rabbity Babbity's sweet tale ends." For a moment Ariana was silent, a little disappointed she had reached the end of the song, yet not quite ready to sing it again. It was a long song, after all, and just last week she had had a sore throat. Her nose wrinkled delicately as she remembered the horrid medicine Mama had ordered from St. Mungo's- the gritty substance reminded her of when Albus had dared her to drink some of the water from the earthier, muddier side of the lake one afternoon.
"All the garden gnomes went out to play- how many got, thrown away?" she chimed on inspiration, recalling a came of skipping rope she had played with the girls from neighboring houses once before using that rhyme. With a small smirk, Ariana thought smugly of the fact that a whole ten of her gnomes had gotten thrown away, while Ethel had only thrown away two measly gnomes.
Lacking a skipping rope, however, made that rhyme become boring quickly, and absently she picked daisies from their sparse populations in the grass. Of course, regular daisies didn't bloom until well into spring at Mould-on-the-Wold, but Daddy had found a special kind at the Herbology Shop in Diagon Alley that would stay put all year round. Ariana had been delighted with them, and ever since daisies were a common sight in the Dumbledore family's backyard.
Barely paying attention, Ariana began to weave the stems together expertly, a lone skill that only she possessed. She had tried to teach Al and Abe how to weave daisy crowns, but Al had proclaimed it too childish, and Abe had gotten frustrated after his second ruined crown, and they had both been content to let her have this small victory in life, being the only one able to make crowns out of flowers.
The sky grew steadily darker. Twilight was passing before her eyes; Ariana dutifully twisting the stems together one by one, intent on finished her treasure. Finally she looked up, anguished to find that it was nearly time for her to go home, lest Mama become angry with her for staying out too late. However, she found it difficult to leave her half-finished crown lonely and abandoned on the floor of the woods, so she compromised by weaving faster. When this only served to make her hurried fingers fumble and snap several stems, Ariana sighed piteously and stared hard at her crown, willing it to spin itself together.
And it did.
She gasped and leaned closer as something coursed from inside of her out into the open air, swelling across the grass until it reached its destination of the crown, and Ariana thought she saw a sparkle of something hit the daisies, but she couldn’t be sure-whatever it was, it was twining the daisy stems together faster than she ever could have, neater than she ever could have. She became conscious of the fact that she was holding her hand out towards the flowers, and something innate told her not to drop her hand, lest the thing stop weaving.
For several glorious moments, Ariana simply sat and watched her crown create itself. When the final two stems had secured themselves together, she was anguished as the crown slowly went limp on the ground. The thing, the spark, was glimmering, about to leave forever.
“Don’t go,” she murmured, reaching out.
“Hey!”
She whipped around, her fingers clenching around her treasure. She felt several petals fall off in her hand, brushing against her fingers with a smooth silkiness.
“Hey, did you see what she just did?!”
Ariana looked around frantically-it was now fully dark, and the voices seemed to be coming from different directions. She strained her eyes, trying to see past the trees and bushes that were surrounding her. Mama was going to be angry when she got home so late.
“What the hell?”
Suddenly there were hands on her shoulders. Ariana twisted around, knocking the hands away from her, scrabbling not to crush her crown beneath her as she fell back into a sitting position.
“What did you just do?”
Her eyes still wrenched from place to place, trying to discern human shape from shadows. She knew that there was someone standing above her, and he had a voice that was low and gravelly-but besides that, nothing.
“I asked you what you did!”
All Ariana had time to note was that the boy’s voice sounded oddly frightened before there was a stinging sensation on her cheek-she gave a small cry and fell farther, so that she was lying on her back, her daisy crown still clutched desperately in her hand, which was twisted strangely up into the blue-black sky.
“What’s up with her?”
The other voice was high and quick, but still most definitely male. Ariana breathed in deeply, not trying to move. Her arms were shaking, and she thought she might fall again. There was a heavy feeling in her stomach, and her dress was skewed over to the side of her legs.
“Hey, girl!”
She felt herself being dragged up onto her feet by a rough hand. The voice that spoke this time was loud and booming, and it made her heart flip inside her chest. What would Al do?
Her knees were barely able to hold her up. “She’s gonna fall again.”
“So sit her up.”
“Fine!”
There was a strange place inside her brain, Ariana discovered at that moment, which allowed her to completely remove herself from what was happening. She didn’t know what exactly what was going on, but she did know that it was making bile rise in her throat. Mama would be mad at her.
She was pushed against a tree so her legs wouldn’t give way. It was uncomfortable, but that place inside her brain didn’t let her feel that. Odd. She would have to tell Al and Abe about it.
“What the hell is wrong with her? She’s not moving.”
“Who cares? She’s just some freak.”
“I bet she’s retarded.”
“Well then, she won’t remember this.”
Her shoulder was cold, chillingly, bitingly, cold. From that special place in her mind, Ariana couldn’t tell that this was because her dress had been ripped off and pulled down her arm. There were spots of coolness all along her collarbone-her eyes closed automatically. She hoped Mama wouldn’t be too bad.
“Get back, let me have a turn.”
The rest of her was cold, too. Her dress was ripping, tearing, and Ariana drew in a shuddering breath. Maybe Al and Abe would finally teach her to place chess at home and she really wasn’t feeling this at all and this place in her mind was wonderful she didn’t feel one thing at all except just a little chilly and-
“No,” she whimpered. Her whole entire body was freezing, and her back was still pressed against the tree, but it was bare, and there was bark scratching her. “No.”
“Shut her up, would you?”
Ariana closed her eyes again. Maybe thing glimmering thing would come back and help her, please, let it come back and help her-
Her hands grew warm and she could feel her daisy crown under her bare foot. The petals were soft and smooth, and she prayed for the glimmering thing. Make this all go away.
“Holy shit-”
“What’s coming out of her hand?!”
“Make her stop!”
Ariana gasped. A hand connected with her cheek again, and she stumbled away from the tree, falling onto her stomach. She felt several stems on her crown rip, and tears brimmed in her eyes.
“Is she normal?!”
“Maybe she’s psycho.”
“I’ll bet she’s a witch.”
There was silence. Ariana was sure they heard her heart pounding-Mama said they weren’t to tell people they were magic, and oh, Mama would be so happy to find out she did her first bit of it, all by herself…
“Hey.” Someone forced her head up, her neck making a sickening crack. “Magic’s evil, you know that, right?”
“No,” she whispered, craning her head away. Anything to avoid looking at him. His hands were rough and made her shiver deep down into her bones.
“She has some serious problems.”
“Magic’s goddamn evil.”
“So tell her that!”
One of them pulled her up by the arm, his fingers leaving cruel white marks on her skin. “Never-do-magic.”
“No,” she murmured again. Her mind felt dreamy, and she counted out the slaps to the face she received-one, two, three.
“Can she say anything else?”
“Let’s find out.”
Ariana tried desperately to reenter that safe place inside her head where she didn’t feel anything besides numbness-but it was gone, slipped away, and all she felt was hard and hot and wet and oh God that hurts so bad.
“Stop!”
--
When they were gone, all she could find of her daisy crown were bits and pieces and snippets strewn about the grass, coloured a sharp bright yellow that had never before made her eyes hurt so badly. She picked them up one by one, trying not to let the lightness burn her sight.
“Just like me,” she giggled, strewing all the petals through the air, letting them tangle in her hair. She laughed madly, leaning against the tree that she could vaguely recall leaning on before. She ignored the blood streaked down the bark and cackled again.
I’m a daisy. I’m a daisy.