Gellert Grindelwald (indivisible) wrote in unloading_zone, @ 2010-06-24 11:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | gellert grindelwald, lily potter |
Who: Gellert Grindelwald and Lily Potter
Where: Bungalow #7
When: BACKDATED to Monday, shortly after their arrival
What: Roommates!
Status/Rating: Incomplete; TBA (probably low)
The house was very unattractive.
It was this fact that Gellert was trying to focus on--the hideously-tinted paneled walls and the creaking floor and the rather disturbing images in the two portraits that hung on the wall. Better to pay attention to this (--was that a painting of a macro-sized coconut shell or a man's hairy back?) than let his thoughts come to rest on the sensation that had been coiled in the pit of his stomach ever since arriving.
It hurt, the sense of...loss...that pervaded his awareness. Physically. As if something heavy and oppressive was bearing down all around him, slowly suffocating him, squeezing the air from his lungs and the magic from his veins. Nausea had taken up a distant but seemingly permanent residence in his gut. Gellert had always been too aware of his magic--overly aware, really--of his, and that of everyone around him, teeming in the air like vibrantly-coloured threads of light. Free magic, existing in the world all around them and then tangling into the soft hum of auras around wizards. When he was younger, it had been too much for him to handle. It had become all he could think about, that magic, burning into his mind and searing through his senses. The headaches had been unbearable, he could recall. But one day he had woken up and things had simply been...different. The magic no longer seemed abrasive, and he quickly grew accustomed to its presence. At Durmstrang, he'd met two others who were able to sense magic in the same way as he was, one of them the Dark Arts professor who would later become his adviser.
Magic had insinuated itself into his existence so thoroughly that he'd been incapable of imagining what it would be like to be without it. And it was unbearable, this existence. Was this how muggles felt all the time? Barren and hollowed-out?
Gellert fell back onto his bed, staring at the ugly beige ceiling without really seeing it. He needed to find a library, of some sort, he decided. And then he needed to find a way out of here, even if leaving meant returning to the middle of an expulsion trial and the company of a crowd probably quite confused as to their suspect's sudden disappearance. He tried not to consider how impossible return might be, without the use of his magic. Better to fixate on a task--a specific goal--than think too freely.
He pushed himself up to sitting, then standing, picking up one of his trunks and dumping it on his chosen bed to declare it as his before preparing to leave.