And even the birds have stopped singing...
For when all the world's malice is endured by these handfuls of teenagers, the hush of sorrow settles in.
Carly Wren Davies is her parents' boxing bag and the very reason they need one in the first place...
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THE WORLD CIRCLES BEFORE CARLY'S EYES, as if the heat is causing her system to crash. But rather than blacking out, the world she looks upon melts away, purely fading streams of color failing to hold onto existence. And as soon as the dizziness hits, it is all over, her eyes large as they lock onto the landscape portrait. The shades arrange in a matter of milliseconds and Carly takes in a smallish lake, surrounded by high looming trees of the most strenuous hunter green, a solitary wooden fishing boat perched on top of the slumbering water surface, and an invisible pull towards the simplicities of earth, so artfully prevalent and yet so foreign to the girl.
Chandler does not release Carly's arm, which he had been clutching onto during the travel in order to prevent the girl from tumbling to the ground upon arrival. He examines her face, her eyes as they marvel at the scene. "Are you dizzy?" he inquires, searching for any sign of unease. But Carly shakes her head, and warily, Chandler removes his hold, attention not wavering from her body.
Carly smiles reassuringly. "I have apparated before," she serves to remind him. "Several times. I don't get dizzy anymore."
Only now does Chandler begin to unwind, nodding his head in dawning realization. "Of course," he mutters, running his fingers over his bald head.
Pureblood families commonly use apparition as a mode of transportation. The young are forced to adapt to it from the moment they are born. Though the Zabini's had waited for Blaise to reach an age at which he could comprehend this kind of magic and decide for himself whether or not to accompany his parents on their fast travels. The man is certain that the Davies' never offered their daughter the luxury of choice.
Chandler swallows, his eyes tiptoeing over the girl, fearful of having triggered somewhat of a trauma caused by her parents. But by now, Carly is quite hardy.
There was a time when the mere mention of her parents sparked a wave of panic within her veins, but this constant fear gradually faded over the course of a year. For she no longer is forced to live in hell. She has fled – she has been freed. And, while the flashbacks can be overwhelming at times, the fear seems to wither away when Chandler is by her side.
He hops a little in excitement, his eyes following Carly's line of vision as if only now recalling their reason for having apparated to the lake. He scurries toward the fishing boat, grin reaching his earlobes. "You go in first," he says, gripping the brim to keep it from shifting much. "I'll keep it steady." The girl stares at him for a moment before inching closer, albeit cautiously, as if approaching a frightened dog.
Carly frowns fleetingly as she observes the boat from a range. And, having never seen such transportation in the magical world before (apart from Hogwarts' enchanted boats, which never ceased, swam back and forth on their own, and you had to hop into them at the proper moment), she concludes that Chandler, too, enjoys ditching magic on occasion.
One foot in and a broad toothy smile glues itself onto her cheeks. As Chandler leaps in, the boat starts swaying so viciously that Carly's grin diminishes in a flash. Chandler only laughs heartily, steadying the wood. He grants her a few moments to adjust, fully understanding the unfamiliarity of the daunting mobility beneath them.
