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No matter what, there was always something missing.
Something that could be excused as a mistake or accident. That was the trick to finding what was hidden. The thin veil of ordinary was peeled back with ease if you could only take time to look closer.
A missing house here. A nonexistent alleyway there.
A little girl’s love of warmth and comfort, and her utter hatred for how the rain soaked her clothes.
Folklore and urban legends that even the most skeptical in the area claim to believe. A village easily seen at a distance that can’t be found on any map.
A small boy who yearned to see the world, not even letting his shadow tie him down.
Historical records that don't quite add up. Creatures that are far too odd match any description of the local wildlife.
A shy student who was never quite as lonely as she seemed.
Bits and pieces of absent information that lined up a touch too perfectly to be coincidental.
A child’s dream of soaring on wings made of words and wax, with lightning for blood and a voice like thunder.
And at the center of it all was the missing children.
On the surface, there seemed to be very little rhyme or reason between the disappearances, beside their young age. Children from every gender, ethnicity, and status were vanished indiscriminately.
Many were never seen again. A few were thought to be spotted years later in a random crowd, before disappearing like they were never there. Fewer even came back, building lives and careers like they didn’t leave at all.
Like there wasn’t a gaping hole where their formative years should’ve been.
Like there weren't hundreds of kids going missing annually.
Like children weren’t vanishing off the face of the earth, and they were the only ones who had a chance at knowing where they went.
Nobody noticed such disappearances, or didn’t make that big of a fuss. People who tried to speak out were silenced swiftly.
If you looked deep enough, however, there was one common thread in the tangled web of disappearances. A tale of impossibility, a promise of magic.
Rumors about a girl who had clothes that dried unnaturally fast, no matter how soaked she was. How a bad rainstorm washed away all traces of her, except for a singular dry glove.
Stories over campfires about a wild boy whose shadow always stretched in the oddest of ways, slowly becoming fainter as he grew. It disappeared completely when he was twelve, the boy himself following close behind.
Tales reminiscing about an old classmate who was teased for her imaginary friends, until she got fed up one day and pushed her bullies from behind. She was expelled and never seen again, despite none of the kids actually seeing her push them.
Whispers about the store owner’s child who moved back into town years after vanishing off of the face of the earth, and how the faintest feeling of electricity and a gathering storm buzzed around them like an otherworldly fog.
Try as They might, no one can ever erase the human need for gossip. Words had a way of breaching any wall that may try to contain them. The few stories that had gotten past that wall were all that were left of whatever these people went through.
Someone, whoever They were, took care to erase these people from the face of the earth, to carve a wound where their existence should be. And while They did it thoroughly, stories always filled the cracks of the narrative, revealing splinters of the truth if you knew where to look.
And she always did have a knack for knowing where to look.
The young woman allowed herself a sharp grin. They were ignorant to think that They could completely hide a secret this large from the world. They were bound to miss something eventually. Especially when that something was as careful as she.
Lightning flowed through her veins like water, a rolling thunder that bubbled on the tip of her tongue, marking her the same as all of those other vanished children. Yet she was distinct from all of them in one monumental way; She hadn’t caught Their attention. At least, not yet.
When she was little, she was too scared to speak her fantasies into existence, like so many others did before her. And when she finally had that courage, she was far too aware of the dangers of making her dreams come true. Now, she knew better.
Unlike them, she wouldn’t let herself be caught quietly. She’s planned for it ever since she followed the rumours and learned of the possibility.
She’s prepared for this scenario ever since she was a lonely, headstrong teenager looking for someone, anyone like her, and the only people she found were whispers lost in the wind.
She’s expected it ever since she was a little girl who sobbed in the night because she knew could fly on wings of words and wax, and there would be people who could cage her before she ever got the chance to touch the stars. So she prepared.
To ensure that she can’t be silenced, she’s made herself impossible to forget. Her list of friends and acquaintances were a web cast as far and wide as possible. She involved herself in influential movements with influential people. She’s talked with human rights activists and made herself important in circles known for their compassion.
She made a name for herself among people who care if one of their own goes missing. People who shout when they're told to whisper, and whisper when threatened to shut up. People who would fight for her, just as she’d do for them.
All of her connections have connections that can’t be silenced or replaced easily. If one person is quieted, dozens more will take their place. If she ever goes missing under mysterious circumstances, people will care about it.
Secretly, she’ll create another legacy in a smaller, equally important way. This legacy will live on in journals of meticulously gathered notes and stories written for a certain kind of people.
For individuals that think, something’s missing, and peel back the veil.
For town gossips that have seen too many unexplainable things and have heard about too many children disappearing to sit still.
For children who have lightning in their veins, thunder on their lips, and dreams of star-touched wings.
For people like her, who have a knack for knowing where to look.
She sincerely hopes that the information she spent so much time gathering will help at least those people protect themselves before They find out.
After everything she’s seen, she isn’t sure that she’ll fulfill her dream of touching the stars and surviving to tell the tale. Perhaps she’ll fancy herself Icarus, flying too close to the sun before crashing in a burning inferno. Perhaps she won’t even get that high before They clip her wings and trap her in Their cage of secrets and lies.
The way it could unfold is anyone's guess, really. It’s not like she has much of a choice in the end. However, there is one thing she’s sure of, no matter what happens.
If They try to make Hermione Granger vanish into the night, Hermione sure as hell won’t be silent about it.