disclaimer: I am not British/English, do not have red hair, have no kids, and am in no way rich or a genius. Therefore, I am not the illustrious Joanne K. Rowling, and have no legal claim to the characters in this fic, thank you.
our endless numbered days
by noctivagant
prologue. dead man's will /moonlight sonata
A grey oppression hung over Surrey; a boy with messy black hair entered the house of his childhood for the last time. A place where the oppression outside paled in comparison to that which he had felt for nearly seventeen years. The full-time inhabitants ignored him as he stored his trunk in the closet under the stairs, taking out only what he would need for a one night's stay, and retired to the smallest bedroom, at the end of the hall.
A tiny click of the door, and they could forget he was even there.
Inside the sparse room, the window (still scarred from a violent experience with wrought-iron bars, over which no one cared enough to repaint) reflected his hair dark and his eyes in shadow, for an instant before it slid open and cool air cleansed of the murky heat. Somewhere below, pudgy fingers nudged the thermostat up even higher.
The outside air coming in wound around his legs, landed on the bed, and fell asleep. He lay down with it, inhaling deeply and noticing the breath he took was tinged with a whiff of that peculiar toxic detergent used on all the sheets in this house.
...he was floating...shifting formless through the clouds.
the steely hippogriff (for it was a hippogriff, wasn't it? of course it was, that was what he had been riding...) rose, far into the night sky.
it was a startling night sky...no clouds at all. the fiery orange hippogriff was almost like riding a star.
were those lights, houses down there? people, with lives and hopes and dreams...or merely more stars.
the giant phoenix he clung to (for it was a phoenix, wasn't it? of course it was, what else could it be...) began heading towards one of those stars.
oh, so it was a star after all...not a house...but it was a person as well.
he left the star he'd been riding, and began leaping from each to each, to reach the person faster.
he had to, didn't he? of course he did, he had to reach this person...jump...jump...jump... faster
there he was there. he was safe, the empty darkness sky could not reach him where the stars were. and he was there, with the star.
he was in danger, the star said, with a vague familiar twinkle (was the star itself twinkling, or just its eyes...)
there was a sound like little crystal bells...the boy had laughed. he knew that--of course, he was in danger...
he'd always been--that empty tear in the sky was growing, viciously extinguishing the stars (or were they homes and people? of course they were, that was the earth down there...)
which was why, of course, he couldn't spend too long with any one star...the darkness would eventually attack that one too, to get at him.
oh, hey. the star he was with had a phoenix like the one he'd been riding. what a coincidence (or was that the one he'd been riding? wait--suddenly, he wasn't so sure of himself...)
the star's words began to confuse him...what was it trying to say? it was...it...was talking about balance, right?
without the darkness, who could see the stars?
the darkness was evil, the boy reminded himself. contact with it must be avoided...it might wrench him from the sky, too.
why did the star want him to seek out the darkness?
no, he would save the stars! he had to bring back all the light of the stars! the darkness had to be gone forever, else it would return again!
right?
the twinkle looked more like the shining one's eyes get as tears form...
why was he wet? it was raining? but--
the darkness tugged gently at the star's feet, like viscous quicksand. the boy realised what was happening, and reached toward the star to prevent it--
why didn't he notice the star was so far away? he had to get closer, to help the star--
with a shake of his head, the star told him no, he must stay there. he shouldn't destroy all of the darkness, it had a purpose--
it was what made the stars shine so brightly, the boy had to understand, not all darkness was malignant--
it--
but the darkness, realising this star could not be taken down with a mere tugging at its ankles, had formed teeth...closed over the star--
one final twinkle--
balance--
it was gone.
near the boy, the sky began to lighten, as frustration began to take hold in him.
how--dare--the--darkness--take another star
all darkness must be destroyed! destroy it! it must be gone! he had to! bring back the stars!
intense brightness tore across the sky, and the phoenix he'd been sitting on vanished
the entire sky began to change with his rage, red began to form at the edge of the earth
with a strangled yell, the powerful sun rose
the stars were gone, replaced by a pale blue
all darkness was gone, and soon the sun began to burn at him, too, and there was nowhere
no
where
to
hide.
...Harry Potter woke in the morning sunlight, sending a flurry of dust motes floating into the air, and let out a strangled whisper,
'Dumbledore.'
a/n: I realise those with more fat on their bodies tend to get warmer faster, and therefore the Dursleys turning up the heat while Harry wants it cooler doesn't make sense. This is the way I see it: the weather is cool...the Dursleys, who do not embrace nature and are not the type to be satisfied with simply what they are given, would want it warmer. Harry, on the other hand, being a wizard and more natural, and it being his disposition to accept what he has and not complain, would like the cooler, unstuffy air. Just my thoughts.
The section between the two ellipses (those are the little '...'s ) is supposed to be disjointed, confusing, and with much unconventional grammar...it's a dream sequence.
um, also, I don't have a beta or britpicker yet (I put an ad on FA today), so if there's anyone who wants to stick around for a long ficcie...go ahead and volunteer!
Any questions, comments or Howlers: feel free to review or owl me!