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Chapter 8: Amechania
🕑 Added 2024-05-17 23:29:16 +0000 UTChttps://youtu.be/qA0sjK7ePdc?si=l5cybYAVK58TguQN
A mother. When Luna Lovegood thought of the idea of a mother, she thought of warmth, of comfort. When Luna Lovegood thought of the idea of a mother, she thought about someone who would be there in both best and worst, a person whose love would be unconditional, a person who would make the world feel safe, less cruel.
Maybe she had been wrong in taking the hand of the devil. Maybe she had been wrong in letting herself be changed. Maybe she had been wrong in giving her soul because this is what she had done.
She had allowed everything that made Luna Lovegood to be taken, to be changed. She gave everything because maybe formless, devoid of any artifice, the world would prove itself kind.
Luna Lovegood wasn’t stupid no matter how people around her seemed to think she was. Luna Lovegood had been after all deemed worthy of being a part of the brood of Ravenclaw.
She wondered about empathy and its rarity, about empathy and its failings. She wondered about knowledge, knowledge devoid of wisdom and thus stupidity of the highest order.
Luna Lovegood wondered because she had changed. Luna Lovegood wondered because in giving everything, in hoping for a miracle, she received a curse.
Curses stuck and corrupted like diseases. They stayed angrily biting, angrily hurting, blackening its user and the one on which it was used.
Curses coiled around existence like chains of tarnished gold, a semblance of something that could have been.
Luna Lovegood wondered because she had changed. Luna Lovegood wondered because she was now different, changed into a lesser reflection of the divine.
Luna Lovegood had changed because she now had a mother. When Luna Lovegood thought of a mother, she thought of someone strong, someone loving, protective.
When Luna Lovegood thought of a mother, she thought of grey green-blue eyes, of blonde crimson hair.
When Luna Lovegood thought about the idea of what a mother was, she thought of a soft melodical voice, one she knew could comfort her even in the direst of Chaos.
Luna had changed and it was because of her mother. She could feel it in her veins, power, thrumming to the song of an invisible hymn, power that made magic feel insignificant, power that was hers and only hers.
Luna had changed. She had given her soul and in return had gained power. Something deep inside of her screamed that if she wished to, she could crush by herself the dark lord. The power flowed into her veins, with it, she knew nothing, no one would be able to hurt her again because this was how the world was.
A world of apathy only drummed by power, pure and overwhelming power. Her bullies, she could take revenge against them and they would be at no point able to do anything.
Luna had changed, both physically and metaphysically, both lost and gained so much by taking herhand. She could feel it, the way she had changed, how she thought in ways she would have never before.
Revenge? Apathy? Disgust? Those weren’t Luna Lovegood. Luna Lovegood had been hurt again and again and probably would have continued to be hurt yet she had never stopped hoping, believing in dredges of good in others.
It was kind of ironic. Luna Lovegood had been a living puppet, one animated, fuelled and pushed by delusions, by hope yet she had never believed, hoped in herself.
She could see things so much more clearly and they now looked so differently or maybe things were different because all this time, her sight had been obscured.
Luna Lovegood was different, changed and maybe it wasn’t a bad thing. No one had helped the manic blonde girl. No one had chosen to stay at her side not even her father. No one had tried to understand her.
Wouldn't that mean Her being different could only be right? Wouldn’t that mean that her being different was necessary?
Luna wondered. Hope, wisdom, belief, she could see their fallacies, how useless they had been yet she wanted to cling to those ideals.
Luna had changed. She had changed and could now see and the girl who was blind wondered if maybe she shouldn’t pierce her eyes to not be dragged deeper even more into apathy and cruelty.
Luna had changed, now so much more, so much better. She had changed, gained understanding and wondered if she would regret it one day.
The gaze of the blonde girl moved away from the false star above to the crimson woman, to her mother.
The woman was sitting, her lap serving as a pillow for Luna, one of her hands softly gliding through her hair in a way that shouldn’t but felt comforting.
One of Luna’s wings surrounded them, almost covering them like a warm blanket, a protection, a separation from the world.
She could almost forget the fact that she now had wings, that they were there and shone like white crystals exposed to the moonlight.
Wings, freedom, the chance to never be stuck again, the possibility of always pursuing what she wished to, the chance of dancing in the immensity of the sky.
Surrounding them was a garden, a false Eden, an endless number of flowers coloured with all the shades of the mortal world.
They had said nothing to each other since Luna‘s transformation. There was no point, no need to speak.
They had just chosen to stay together, close like two identical stars orbiting against each other and it only felt right to Luna.
She closed her eyes, disregarding the new things she could now smell, how so much louder the world seemed to be even in that empty Eden, focusing only on the touch of her mother.
Her mother, she was her mother. When Luna thought of a mother, she thought of Rias, Rias who made Luna hers, Rias who promised Luna the world without being asked to. Wasn’t it sad? Wasn’t it pitiful? Wasn’t it miraculous?
Luna Had changed, now something other, different from Luna Lovegood. She knew could never Regress to what she was once and she didn't dislike the idea.
“Is it wrong that I wish this could last forever?” Luna whispered, her eyes still closed, lost in the touch, in the comfort of the presence of her mother.
“What's the point of eternity if you can’t spend it? Time flows differently here. We could stay thousands of years here and not one day would have passed on the other side,” the woman in the garden told her.
“Eternity?” Luna whispered. Eternity, permanence, the thing coveted by humanity since the beginning of its existence and it was something Luna had, not because of merit but simply because of luck.
“Yes,” her mother confirmed her fingers rubbing at the point where Luna's new horns connected to her scalp making her feel bliss “No one amongst my ancestors perished of old age. Only brutal death could take you out of the world.” Luna could hear something in her voice, like a half-played note fizzling hauntingly.
Luna wondered about the family of her mother, about her family. She wondered how they would be, how they would look like.
Would they look as beautiful, as divine as her mother? Would they be as kind? Would they accept her?
Luna imagined it, a never-ending life, one where time consumed everything but her, a never-ending life of her staying static as the world changed.
Her dad, Ginny, Harry, they probably would long be gone. She wondered, how different would she be in a decade, in a century, in a millennium.
Luna would be alone, watching as time passed. No, not alone, she thought as she opened her eyes to a crimson veil. She would never leave her. She would stay. Luna wouldn’t be alone. The thought made the girl smile.
“Do you fear it?” her mother asked her “What immortality meant?”
“A part of me does,” the blonde girl admitted. “Eternity seems like such a long time but I think that maybe I’ll be okay with it.” she wasn’t alone anymore after all.
“I don’t think I would be the kind of person brooding all day thinking and saying woe is me.” She ignored how her mom stopped playing with her for a moment before continuing.
“Oh? So what will you do?” the crimson-haired devil asked her.
“Maybe, do experiments, study and search for interesting magical creatures or those thought extinct. Maybe I’ll try to cure Lycanthropy after obviously checking what would happen if I put a werewolf on the moon or maybe create true Heliopaths or maybe prove that the Rotfang conspiracy is true and that the government is trying to control us by using frogs and rats.”
“More than that,” the voice of the girl softened and her mother caught it “I would have you. I don’t fear it because I know you will be there.”
Luna continued to speak, never being stopped, never feeling as if she was bothering. Luna had changed. Things would never be the same she knew but as she listened to the heartbeat of her mother, as she laid on the lap of the devil, regret seemed like a disappearing memory when she knew she would never be alone again. If only the girl knew that looking at her, the only thing her new mother wanted to do was cry.
scene
Things had meaning, perfectly logical explanations for why they were the way they were. Hermione Granger was a believer, a faithful of rationality, of logic, of the idea that in the end, it was the only truth to which she could surely cling. Reason stayed true no matter what. This is why Hermione had believed but now for the first time, she felt doubt.
Hermione Granger had been a believer in reason and even when magic had swept into her life like a hurricane, she had clung to this belief because magic could be taught, magic had rules! Magic was paradoxically logical in its illogicality.
Some things were possible and others weren’t. Research, Experience and Practice were the necessary components of magic. This is what she had believed.
Things no matter how illogical they were always held a root of logic. This is what she had thought before dying.
She could almost remember how it felt. There had been terror and hope, fear and struggle before being consumed.
She could remember how it had felt like an out-of-body experience, how so quickly yet so definitive it had been. Hermione Granger had died and came back to life.
Hermione Granger had come back from the dead and she didn't think she could believe again in a logic etched in the gaps of reality.
Teachers didn't kill their students in first class. People didn't die and came back from death. Where was the logic in it? This was the natural order of things, one that their professor had so easily trampled.
Hermione Granger had stopped believing because no wizard, no one should ever be this powerful.
She was sure that the dark lord and the headmaster were nothing but ants compared to the new teacher. She was sure that Voldemort and Dumbledore, the two strongest wizards wouldn’t have been able to win against The white beast.
Hermione Granger had battled a creature capable of surviving the killing curse, of using it and weaponizing it in an even deadlier way.
Mahoraga, the name of the beast sounded foreign almost eastern. Mahoraga, the beast that hadn’t been at its strongest and yet had slaughtered them.
Hermione Granger was a believer. How could she stay one when year after year, the same illogical, petty and cruel things repeated?
A teacher harming directly or indirectly students, her school, a place of learning that instead of being safe was nothing but safe.
Basilisks, dementors, Cerberuses, trolls in the dungeon. All this time, Hogwart had never been safe.
The logic, the reason she had tried to find, to use as a way to explain everything was lacking.
Deep down, she had known it. Sooner or later, things would be too overwhelming, would go wrong and maybe they wouldn’t be lucky enough or strong enough.
At the end of the day, they may have survived and won numerous times but those victories were ones that realistically shouldn’t have been.
She had stopped believing because when she prayed and hoped for kindness against Mahoraga, there was none.
She had stopped believing because she had finally realized, no higher force would save her when things would go wrong.
Logic, rationality, they were found in few and even those with them preferred not to use them.
The new D.A.D.A teacher had ironically taught her more than any of her predecessors. The woman with too much power had shown Hermione that only by being strong would she finally be safe, only by being strong would she be able to protect not only herself but her friends.
All this time, the key had been in her hands and she had refused to see it. Hermione Granger loved Magic, loved its intricacies but more than loving it, more than studying it, had she tried to understandit?
No, she hadn’t. She probably would never have as much raw power as giants like the headmaster or the dark lord and even less the new teacher but what she could do was to become so proficient, so good with it that power wouldn’t matter anymore and she had been given a first lead toward her goal she thought as her gaze fell on the Latin dictionary on her bedrest.
After the class had ended, they had all left silent, with no jeers, no snipes, no insults, no smiles directed at each other.
Normally she would have tried speaking with Ron and Harry after and a part of her had wanted that but a greater part had only wished to rest, to be alone and be able to cry and scream and it seemed she hadn’t been alone in thinking in such a way.
She had lost sight of Harry and Ron after choosing to go to her dorm room. She had been followed by the other Gryffindor girls. None of them had eaten that night.
Hermione was sure that without the Silencio, all of the school would have heard them cry. She understood now why Fred and George had looked the way they did after their class.
With them being seventh-year students, they probably had to face worse. She tried to imagine it even with how difficult it was, something worse than the white beast and shivered.
The new teacher probably had planned all of this. She probably knew that after the massacre because it was a massacre and not a fight against the white beast, most of them would probably do everything for it to not happen again.
They would have at the end of the year to fight again against a non-weakened version of the white beast and win. Not survive but win.
The woman had said that it would be their final test and it made Hermione wonder if the words of the professor hadn’t been literal.
The woman had already shown that she didn't care about possible consequences and honestly with her might, with her magic, with the power to summon Mahoraga, there would probably be few if nothing that could hurt her.
What proved that like today, she would bring them back to life? The woman was a D.AD.A teacher and every single one of them even Remus had almost hurt or killed Harry in some way or form.
Even if that wasn’t the case, Hermione would not let her future in the hands of someone else when she could do something.
Even if it was an instant, the woman had said it, they had been more powerful than the dark lord and the headmaster.
She grabbed the book with one and brought it on her lap. It felt lightweight in a way it shouldn’t have been almost like a feather.
She grabbed her wand “Lumos,” she whispered, light appearing at the tip of her wand as if she had turned on a lamp.
She was stopped from opening the book by a voice “What are you doing?” she heard.
It was Padma. Hermione had thought her actions wouldn’t be noticed. The Indian girl had seemingly fallen asleep directly after they came back “I'm looking into the dictionary. I'm sure in itself, it won’t be enough but it is something I know that will help.”
“Why? Why Hermione? Don’t you see how stupid it is? Don’t you see How pointless it is? That thing slaughtered us while being reduced! That monster survived against the killing curse and it did all of that while not at full strength!” the girl had begun softly but was now shooting. The Indian girl looked and sounded angry, her usual happy smile and mischievousness nowhere on her face.
“I can’t not be doing anything, Padma,” Hermione told the other Gryffindor girl.
“Even if it is pointless?!” the girl seemed on the verge of hysteria, of a mental breakdown. Maybe she already had broken down. Maybe they all had and were all trying to cope in different ways.
It didn't change the fact that “Yes, Even if it is pointless. Even if the odds are against me. I'll still try.” She didn't wish to fight but sometimes need upscaled want.
She could hear the sound of the other girls moving. They either had been woken up by Hermione and Padma or maybe they had never been asleep just like her.
The Indian girl chuckled “You don’t realize how pointless your actions are.” the voice of the girl was sure, too sure as if she knew something else they didn't.
“Please, explain,” she asked the other Gryffindor girl. “Explain why it would be worthless to fight for my life, for our lives.”
Hermione heard a sigh coming from the girl “OK.” Padma Rose from her bed walking to the middle of their room. “I won’t repeat myself. There is no point in faking to be asleep,” she spoke, her gaze directed at the beds of their three other roommates.
The other girls didn't try to keep the masquerade. There was no point in doing it. Hermione looked at them. They looked awful probably like she did too.
How could they all sleep after dying, after seeing Mahoraga, the white beast brutally murder their comrades?
The Indian girl took a deep breath as if psyching herself “Before Hogwarts, When I was younger and my father less busy, he would each night relate us, my sister and I tales he said had been told to him by his father when he was younger, tales of magic, of heroes and villains, of supernatural creatures, of monsters and gods.”
Hermione shivered. Things seem all of a sudden colder, dimmer as if she was Pandora on the point of opening the Box containing all the evils of the world. The words of the girl felt ominous.
“Those gods were a lot like us. They may all have been gods but they divided themselves through Status, clans, power, races and other things. The gods were as powerful as they were different from each other. Some of them it was said could destroy the universe itself.”
The Indian girl’s gaze locked on Hermione’s. “One of those godly race were snake-like being it is said. They had the body of a human but the head of a snake,” Hermione felt her eyes widen as she understood before Padma would even finish “and they were called the Mahoraga.”
Hermione felt lightheaded. The white beast was worse than a monster because it was a deity, a true deity, one recorded in legends and mythos.
She tried to ignore the choked sobs and gasps of the other girls. She had to because if she didn't, she knew she wouldn’t be any different than them.
“Don’t you remember how the Professor had called it?”
“eight-handled sword divergent sila divine general Mahoraga,” the only female member of the golden trio spoke remembering the words of the teacher.
“I won’t fight Hermione and there is no point in you fighting too.”
“So what?!” Hermione raised her voice for the first time. “I am supposed to do nothing?!”
“Yes, “the Indian girl answered no trace of hesitation in her voice. “I won’t kill pointlessly try to do the impossible.”
“So what will you do?” Hermione asked her. “What are we supposed to do?”
“quit,” the other Gryffindor girl told her. “I will study and take advantage of everything she teaches us and near the end before the test, I'll leave Hogwarts.”
“Leaving Hogwarts?” Lavender gasped in shock.
“Yes,” Padma confirmed. “Hogwarts isn’t the only magical school in the world and even less in Europe. I will survive Hermione because unlike you, I see how pointless it is to fight. It is funny. I never believed once the stories of my father and now I am the dumbass haunted by them. There is no point in fighting Hermione because Gods can’t be killed by mortals.”
Comments
allen 1996
Thank you so much
Antonio Adams
God i love your work
allen 1996
Thank you for reading
Jason Smith
Thanks for the chapter!
