rattish (rattish) wrote in fourteenshades, @ 2014-04-14 09:32:00 |
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Entry tags: | x-albus dumbledore, x-peter pettigrew |
Beginnings
Who: Peter & Albus D.
Where: The Beach / Rockpools
When: Sunday
COMPLETE
In the end, Peter had settled the problem of having to look at the stump of his arm, which more often than note made him feel ill, by folding the edge of his sleeve over it and pinning it there with a sticking charm. While aesthetically this was a help, however, it was not in the least practical. He was starting to realise that everyday, ordinary tasks such as getting dressed were not nearly as simple one-handed as he had thought, even if he still had his dominant hand, for which he was thankful. At least he could still write. And it was his wand hand, of course, so that was fine, but...
Well, magic had been a bit of a problem for a while, hadn't it? Since the fight with Sirius... or no, it must have been before that. Dark Magic, when he was learning, had seemed to come to him easily, easier than many of the charms he'd had to learn in school, with the others sighing and repeating the steps for him over and over until he got them right. But since he'd learned Dark Magic, ordinary spells had come even less easily, as though his wand now considered them not worth the bother. Now that he needed to do more with magic, since he couldn't do it as well by hand, this was starting to become a real problem.
The jacket was an issue as well, now that it was so warm outside. He shifted for what seemed like the hundredth time into the ever-changing shade of the cliff. He was sitting in an out-of-the-way spot, where he would not bother any of the enthusiastic beach goers. He could see them from here, happily frolicking about. Part of him ached to join them, but for one thing, he couldn't imagine that they would let him, and for another, he had work to do.
"Locomotor," he tried again, pointing his wand at a large hunk of rock nearby he would never have been able to lift even two-handed. It wobbled a bit, but that was all, and the effort was enough to make sweat stand out on his forehead. When he finally gave up, the back of his jacket was damp with it. After a moment's indecision, he sighed and shrugged it off, undoing some of the buttons, rolling his right shirt sleeve up to the elbow and using his right forearm to tug the other one up as far as it would go. The effect was a little mismatched, and his mother would never have approved of such slovenly attire, but at least he wouldn't wilt in the sun under so many layers. He aimed his wand at a smaller rock. "Wingardium Leviosa!"
The rock lifted hesitantly into the air, swaying slightly, but as he tried to nudge it over to the left and into a rockpool, it came splashing down before he was ready and narrowly missed his head. "Damnit," he said loudly, thumping his knee with his remaining fist.