Stones and Magic [Iris and Reveuse]

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Reveuse, Jan 2, 2014.

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  1. For two weeks was he bedridden, groaning in pain and feverish confusion as his mind, body, soul and magic adjusted to the lost of a leeching parasite having clung to his very being for so long. The Dark Lord Voldemort was no more, but it did not mean that the traces he left on the world were gone with him, the horcrux inside one Harry James Potter being one of such traces, as destroyed as it was. Harry had found himself change during the weeks he was left alone with no company but Kreacher in the gloomy 12, Grimmauld Place. Both losing and gaining strenght as if he was the morning tide, the young wizard felt both relieved and strangely bereft at the loss of this oppresive presence wieghting him down since that Halloween night so long ago.

    This was the loss of his parseltongue ability followed with his staggering good spirit that was the most disconcerting, the many snakes painted, sculpted or forged all aroung the grim old townhouse no longer voices but hisses and his usual anger and pain being slowly replaced by hope and energy, so much that he did not know what to do with them. He had to get out of there, he had to do something to stop this growing stircraziness that slowly but steadily took hold of him. He had to go to Hogwarts, and see what he could do to help. News of the former Headmistress' death to a mere Dragon Pox were staggering to Harry, who had seen her like the invincible dragon that she sometimes resembled when angered, and her loss dimmed slightly his spirit, like all the deaths that were needlessly lost during the war.

    He was free, but to be happiness had to come to him with actions, and one of these actions, the first one after his victory over his lifelong nemesis being to go to the Ministry and get appointed on the Hogwarts Board of Governors, where he would hopefully have more room to shape the ruins into the great institution he had heard in the legends he scoured during his self imposed exile. With a last groan, the young Potter extricated himself from the warm cocoon of his four poster bed and made his way to the heavy curtains hiding the great enchanted bay-window he had charmed the week previous, grandly letting the light of summer enter the dark room with a mere movement of his hand, wandless magic apparently being one of the perk of living without a malevolent spirit in one's soul. Outside was lovely, of course, as it showed the black lake overlooking the Forbidden Forest, all the way north in Scotland.

    Taking a moment to enjoy the view of his true home and soak in the sun, the young wizard finally started to get ready for the day ahead, choosing everyday robes brought by Kreacher for this day as well as some undergarments as well as shoes, trousers, a buttonup shirt and an elegant black tie before going to the ensuite batroom to clean up and get dressed, coming back out twenty minutes later, ready to floo to the Ministry of Magic's atrium, unaware that a certain childhood rival of his had the same idea as himself...
     
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