De humanized fanfic
Jun. 12th, 2011 11:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
drownedinlight She looked up at the sound of foot falls trampling through the woods. She wouldn’t run. Why should she, after all? She was already three steps ahead of them, and no matter what they did she would come out on top. The polished Holly wood felt so smooth in her hands. It was her destiny; their destiny, for her. When it snapped in her hands, a flood of relief overcame her. She smiled. She waited. They were coming.
Albus Dumbledore waited inside the Unspeakable chambers to assist with the ritual as was necessary. He was a master legimens after all, and rearranging the girl’s mind would take some work, not to mention all the planting of fake memories. He checked his watch they should be arriving…ah yes. A large man holding an unconscious girl in his arms squeezed through the door of the mythical reassignment chamber.
“How did it go?” Dumbledore inquired his tone conversational.
“Well enough,” replied the man. “She didn’t put up a fight, just sort of sat there as we stunned her. Almost like she knew we were coming and had just come to terms with it.”
“And her wand?” Dumbledore asked. It was the wand that rightfully belonged to her brother. He deserved it and get it, he would. The man went and laid the girl out on the slab.
“Broken,” he said.
“How?” The conversational tone was gone. “I specifically told you to make sure that her wand was unbroken, to let Michael take it from her—!”
“It was broken when we got there,” the man stammered. “She broke it, sir.”
“She what?” Dumbledore gasped. “Leave now.” The man turned toward the door, not eager to face Albus Dumbledore’s wrath, and so he never quite felt the obliviation spell hit him or the false memory that he had been in the office all night, rather than hunting down a teenage girl with no crime. Dumbledore turned to the limp body of the girl. “You enjoy ruining my plans, don’t you? You will pay for that.” He said it soft enough that the approaching Unspeakables would not hear. Not that it mattered, for by the end of the night, this girl was not going to be the only one who went through memory assignment.
Tessa Sweeney woke, feeling like she had forgotten something. It was something big, something she should not have forgotten. She reached onto her night stand, and grabbed her phone, going to the calendar application and thumbing through the dates, though each thing she had to do stood out perfectly in her memory. So, then, what had she forgotten? Her phone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts.
“Don’t forget to pick up your sister form school,” read a text from her mother. She texted back a quick, “ok,” because in her mother’s mind you had not gotten a text unless you replied to it. The sister she spoke of was actually Tessa’s stepsister, but there was no real reason for Tessa to think about her mother marrying an American Military officer, or that she would be moving to the United States in a few months. She hated thinking about it.
Tessa rose from her bed and went to the shower, going over the list of things to do in her head. She of course had to do some of her school work and then take the train down to the academic building to drop off her most recent completed work. It would be fun to take her next test and watch them look at her knowing that she would have to take her O-levels soon. Tessa knew they had been holding her back a bit, trying to make her last another year before she took her Os, but they were starting to realize that it only meant that she was going to have to take her A-levels much sooner. It was getting to the point where when she got to America, she was thinking of taking a GED test and starting Uni early. Her step-father said that was a possi—
There it was again, that nagging feeling that she was forgetting something.
Frowning, she stood under the spray of the water, wondering what it could be. She had her entire calendar in her head, and she even knew when she needed to remind Mum to go and get more boxes so they could start packing up the rest of the house. She knew everything she needed to know, so what was she forgetting? Tessa rolled her eyes, and reached for her shampoo. And that’s when she saw it, with her arm stretched out in front of her.
It looked as if all of the skin on her fore arm was getting ready to peel off at once, like she was molting. Tessa scratched a little bit of the dry skin, watching it flake off easily underneath her nail, and felt something like a layer of her skin release now that it had some air under it. She scratched at the dead skin on her arm, scratching and scratching, until an entire layer lifted up from her arm, ready to be pulled back. She gripped the loose flesh, gentle, and pulled, pulling the sticky, soft putty away from her skin.
On her forearm from her wrist, to her elbow, was a list, like the one Mum might print up for groceries. Except this was no normal to do list. For example number one on the list was:
1. Your name is Theresa Katherine Potter.
It made Tessa’s head spin, and suddenly, she felt like she very much needed to throw up. She stumbled out of the shower, water still running and lifted the toilet seat and heaved, not that much came up. .
Albus Dumbledore waited inside the Unspeakable chambers to assist with the ritual as was necessary. He was a master legimens after all, and rearranging the girl’s mind would take some work, not to mention all the planting of fake memories. He checked his watch they should be arriving…ah yes. A large man holding an unconscious girl in his arms squeezed through the door of the mythical reassignment chamber.
“How did it go?” Dumbledore inquired his tone conversational.
“Well enough,” replied the man. “She didn’t put up a fight, just sort of sat there as we stunned her. Almost like she knew we were coming and had just come to terms with it.”
“And her wand?” Dumbledore asked. It was the wand that rightfully belonged to her brother. He deserved it and get it, he would. The man went and laid the girl out on the slab.
“Broken,” he said.
“How?” The conversational tone was gone. “I specifically told you to make sure that her wand was unbroken, to let Michael take it from her—!”
“It was broken when we got there,” the man stammered. “She broke it, sir.”
“She what?” Dumbledore gasped. “Leave now.” The man turned toward the door, not eager to face Albus Dumbledore’s wrath, and so he never quite felt the obliviation spell hit him or the false memory that he had been in the office all night, rather than hunting down a teenage girl with no crime. Dumbledore turned to the limp body of the girl. “You enjoy ruining my plans, don’t you? You will pay for that.” He said it soft enough that the approaching Unspeakables would not hear. Not that it mattered, for by the end of the night, this girl was not going to be the only one who went through memory assignment.
Tessa Sweeney woke, feeling like she had forgotten something. It was something big, something she should not have forgotten. She reached onto her night stand, and grabbed her phone, going to the calendar application and thumbing through the dates, though each thing she had to do stood out perfectly in her memory. So, then, what had she forgotten? Her phone buzzed, interrupting her thoughts.
“Don’t forget to pick up your sister form school,” read a text from her mother. She texted back a quick, “ok,” because in her mother’s mind you had not gotten a text unless you replied to it. The sister she spoke of was actually Tessa’s stepsister, but there was no real reason for Tessa to think about her mother marrying an American Military officer, or that she would be moving to the United States in a few months. She hated thinking about it.
Tessa rose from her bed and went to the shower, going over the list of things to do in her head. She of course had to do some of her school work and then take the train down to the academic building to drop off her most recent completed work. It would be fun to take her next test and watch them look at her knowing that she would have to take her O-levels soon. Tessa knew they had been holding her back a bit, trying to make her last another year before she took her Os, but they were starting to realize that it only meant that she was going to have to take her A-levels much sooner. It was getting to the point where when she got to America, she was thinking of taking a GED test and starting Uni early. Her step-father said that was a possi—
There it was again, that nagging feeling that she was forgetting something.
Frowning, she stood under the spray of the water, wondering what it could be. She had her entire calendar in her head, and she even knew when she needed to remind Mum to go and get more boxes so they could start packing up the rest of the house. She knew everything she needed to know, so what was she forgetting? Tessa rolled her eyes, and reached for her shampoo. And that’s when she saw it, with her arm stretched out in front of her.
It looked as if all of the skin on her fore arm was getting ready to peel off at once, like she was molting. Tessa scratched a little bit of the dry skin, watching it flake off easily underneath her nail, and felt something like a layer of her skin release now that it had some air under it. She scratched at the dead skin on her arm, scratching and scratching, until an entire layer lifted up from her arm, ready to be pulled back. She gripped the loose flesh, gentle, and pulled, pulling the sticky, soft putty away from her skin.
On her forearm from her wrist, to her elbow, was a list, like the one Mum might print up for groceries. Except this was no normal to do list. For example number one on the list was:
1. Your name is Theresa Katherine Potter.
It made Tessa’s head spin, and suddenly, she felt like she very much needed to throw up. She stumbled out of the shower, water still running and lifted the toilet seat and heaved, not that much came up. .
