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It happened at Jim Morrison's grave. by SCN

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It happened at Jim Morrison’s grave. (ii)


           by: scn @}'--



~)O(~ 


          Joslyn was showering, a new kinda of lust washed down her slick body; a wonder-lust was brewing inside of her as the hot water flowed down, making her mind wander.  She thought of old times. Old memories stirred from deep places about things she had chosen to forget about. Joslyn thought of her first boyfriend a muggle that came and went, in one summer. He had long black hair; the epitome pseudo musician type, played guitar, wore ripped jeans covered in marker. She met him shopping with her muggle friends the summer before sixth year. He was smoking cigarette with his friends just outside the main entrance of the mall in a black band shirt, and eyeliner on. He was everything that Joslyn thought she would never have liked in a million years. Until then she had a define list of qualification’s that would make up someone who she could date, but all that went out of the window the day she met him.



                                     The relationship was short, but the experience left Joslyn with a love of music that could be only gain from someone with true passion for it. He showed her all the great on those summer nights parked watching fireflies in the woods. Joslyn was introduced to the greats; the Who, the Beatles, Pink Floyd, Ozzy and most importantly the Doors. Out of all the bands there something was special about the Doors . The imagery in the poetry was fantastic and off beat. Occasionally, was even known to quote Jim Morison. Only Harry ever knew of course, but Harry was a fan of all the classic’s, and happened to be known to have a pretty extensive collection of rare records himself.


                                     The nostalgia high brought on from thinking about music made Joslyn know the perfect way to spend the Sunday ahead of her. She was going to give in, and gave herself the day off to think, to feel, to whatever. Joslyn finished up her shower and got dressed. She tied her hair in a loose bun, lined the top of her eyes with a thick black swoosh of liner. A gray sweater lay on a nearby chair, and not wanting to think she put it on and dark blue jeans. She grabbed her trusty leather jacket; thinking it would be perfect with her jeans and boots.  Then, two seconds later Joslyn was standing next to her apartment building ready to rip through the heavens. She checked over her shoulders, before closing her eyes, and swallowing hard to hold down her lunch.


~

 


                                    The high iron gates over-shadowed the a sorry looking bouquet in Dylan’s hand making them see even more inconsequential then already. The gates swung opened onto a path lined with hundred year old willow trees standing guard and arraigned around the mausoleums of the Père Lachaise cemetery in Paris. He walked down the aisles looking for one in particular that he liked to start on. Dylan walked to Oscar Wild’s grave stopping for a moment to give a moment of respect to one of the greatest writers of the muggle world who was secretly a great wizard. Then, he passed by Sarah Bernhard’s on the way to the one was looking for.  Dylan knew his way around pretty well by now. He had been coming here for almost five year. This one of the places that he would come to when things became too hard, and the one he went to right after the war. This was a place where he felt connected to music that held no judgments, and it was resting place of one of the greatest greats whose life had been cut short, Jim Morrison 

 


                                     Dylan placed his sub-par flowers down onto the grave and looked into the soulless eyes of the marble statue adoring the top of the marker while saying a prayer with his head down. In his prayer, he thanked the gods of music for the talent and the opportunity to give his music to the world, but most importantly the chance to show the world he wasn’t a waste of space. Dylan looked at the grave with its graffiti that decorated almost every open surface and smiled. Someday he thought that some of these people might be his fans.



He then gave Jimmy one more head bow of respect, before turning around. Dylan felt his pilgrimage was a success. What he didn’t see was a set of brown eye watching from a few steps behind him. He was so lost in thought when he turned around he didn’t see, the someone, who had been watching only a few steps away. Shoes were the first thing that Dylan noticed. Time seemed to slow down as his eyes followed the lines of the brown boots up the dark blue legs, and into the eyes of one person who he least think would be standing at Jim Morison’s grave.   


~  


                                       Her first time to Paris without her parents was something else; it all flashed before her eyes the moment she saw the familiar outline. Joslyn’s boyfriend at the time had a fascination about the 27 club and wanted to show Joslyn the graves of one of the greats. He talked her into going into Paris for the day. Joslyn was a little punchy after sitting on a train for half a day , and then two undergrounds for most only go visit a cemetery, and then only to have to go back. But, when she got to the Père Lachaise she was blown away with the beauty of it.


The energy that emitted from it made her feel high, light headed. In the end she could have spent more than just an afternoon there. After that it became a place that every now and then Joslyn would use as refuge from the outside world. She always walked the same route ending with Jim Morison’s. Taking a minute there to get the courage to return home and go on with life after the war and the choices she had made.



                                     Joslyn walk throughout Père Lachaise went without anything out of the normal. She had to momentarily hide under a willow tree waiting for a passing shower, but other than that it was an uneventful stroll in the warm late day sun’s light. It wasn’t until she turned the corner where her last stop would be that something out of ordinary came into view. Her feet slowed on their-own accord, her brain played no part in it she was focused on her breathing getting stuck in her throat. She was barely moving when he turned around. At first he didn’t noticed that anyone was even there. Then slowly he saw her and looked up even more slowly.


                                     Dylan had no idea what was standing in front of him, no to mention a whi. He couldn’t make sense that someone could know him at Père Lachaise, not the mention the someone being Joslyn. Her face was all smiles, while his was in utter shock. Dylan felt like he was kid who got his hand caught in the cookie jar or something. Almost like he shouldn’t have been there at all, but then his senses came flooding back to him. He lowered his shades grinned then said.



“It must be my lucky day, bumping into you like this, and at one of my favorite places.”

                                     His words made Joslyn giggle unknowingly. It was just that his words felt like they were tickling her insides with each syllable the licked her ears. Her brained seemed to fail her. She just stood there standing staring at him.



                                     Dylan could feel he had the upper hand. Letting himself laugh at the circumstances.  The old Dylan he would have said or done something to finish the job and make her loose it completely, he thought but instead he shot a warm smile and asked in a sweet tone.  “You alright, Carter you look like you have seen a ghost?”


                                     The question rocked Joslyn out of her comatose state staring blankly into his steely stare. 


“Hi” she answered in a low voice “Yea, fine thanks” she then took a step passed him to the front of the grave.



 “He was one of the greats, and infamous.” She shrugged, not look at him, her eyes moving to the grave just behind him.



Dylan wasn’t sure if was a question or a statement “Yea, he was.”



                                     Dylan short words fell into a few minutes of silence while they both stood in front of the grave of one of the greats. He searched his brain for something he say after the moment of silence passed, but came up with nothing. Dylan attention couldn’t formulate any words, he kept getting distracted by the way the Joslyn looked in the late day sunlight. Random tendrils danced in a blowing breeze, and the slight shade of pink on her cheeks was the only things that his brain could follow.

 


“Dylan Graham, you’re just full of surprises. Aren’t you?” Joslyn looked over her shoulder at him, meeting his eyes briefly, topping it off with a slight smile.  “I always wondered who you really are under all that ‘circumstance’.” She said adding finger quotes.


                                     Dylan had no way to answer her. Everything felt flat in his head. All of what he would have normally said seemed so beneath the moment. This wasn’t any normal person in-front of him. It was the first person who saw something other than death eater in him. Just as this though crossed his mind Joslyn turned to face him with a knowing smile on her face.


 “You don’t have to say anything about that night. You did your part in the end. That’s all that matters” She shrugged her shoulders and started to walk away.


Dylan watched her turn, taking the first few steps away from him, before realizing that he could follow her, that is if he wanted to. In two steps he fell into stride with her like it was something they did all the time. Once Joslyn saw he had caught up with her she turned to him “I sorry if I looked daft this morning. Not a big drinker and don’t do things like what I did last night.” Joslyn looked up meeting Dylan’s directionless stare.


“No, worries you were fine. Seen worse, hell been worst myself.”


She laughed, saying sweetly “I bet” Joslyn smiled thinking of Dylan loose with drink. It was something she could barely see in her mind’s eye. He always was the model of decorum and it made Joslyn want to be silly with him. Something about it seemed so taboo that she couldn’t help herself to indulge in the thoughts of him falling down drunk.




“It was a nice side of seeing of you, Carter. Your head is normally so up your arse, it was neat to see you so….” His words trailed slightly before finding the right one to say and started before Joslyn could get mad at his statement. “ um, relaxed 


Joslyn laughed outright at his statement “Relax?! Ha… That’s one way to say it. Blibbering idiot is more like it.”



“No” Dylan said stopping them both in their tracks, he eyes narrowed at her statement. “You were honest. The drinks made you let down your walls. I don’t know ….” He smiled a bit as the last words came out “you were cool.”

                                     This Joslyn made to think; I know it shouldn’t matter, but did Dylan Graham just said she was cool? Did that really just happened? She knew it was silly to feel validated by his opinion, but the way he said it, so matter-factly is what gave Joslyn butterflies and made her blush. There was no denying the fact though, that just by him saying it, she indeed felt cool. She lost her words, but thanked him with raised eyebrows and a smile. They walked along the well-worn paths their hands mere inches apart as the swung with each of their steps. A nervous energy ran through Joslyn. She didn’t know what came over her, but she took Dylan’s hand, looked him in the eyes and said



“Any plot for the rest of the day” Her question was laced with her big brown eyes that Dylan wouldn’t have been able to resist even if his life depended on it. Her eyes were so tempting that Dylan was shaking his head, agreeing with what she had just said by instinct. Joslyn eyes dropped to the ground “Oh” left her lips in an almost sigh, but Dylan saw that she had misunderstood him. “Sorry, no plans.” He added quickly




                                     Joslyn didn’t know what she wanted to do with Dylan now that the universe dropped her on her paht. It was just that she had this sense that this was what she was supposed to be doing this afternoon. She racked her brains in search of a memory that she could be made with him. Something was irking on the inside her saying it was ok to let go of her life and indulge in the moment and make things great out of it. A Slytherin worthy smile grew on Joslyn face in the iota of second she took grabbing Dylan’s hand.  In a sly and silky voice Joslyn said ‘hold on’.


_


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