HOW ONE MORNING MADE All THE DIFFERENCE
Chapter one :
From a common accord that goes back to the dawn of time, once again, the quiet moon substitued for the vigorous sun.
Polite, as ever, and afraid to damage the delicacy of his lady, the sun would try to hold back a little longer the blinding brightness of his rays. And willing to make his companion aware of his useless carefulness, the moon would linger some more.
These lovers were thought to be opposed to each other from every way possible. Yet -oblivious to the common belief - they were together and respectful of a very old and enigmatic contract, asking for a mutual participation in the ritual of life. Thus, besides bickering and showing off, these stars of day and night cared for one another and created a perfect harmony in the way of things.
It was in fact, a typical daybreak. But since life was supposedly at peace at this time of the day, most of the livings were asleep and so, did not pay attention to the spectacular demonstration of nature.
Well, most of the livings, that is with a few exceptions. In fact, the boy over there, lying in the grass with his glasses on so early in the morning, was widly awake and not even near to close one eye.
He was sitting under a large beech tree quite similar to the strong and tough armour he had learned to build around him over the years, adding one brand new peace to it with each ordeal he suffered. The death of Sirius was definitely the worst and his difficult mourness had created the most robust layer.
The time of acceptance was expected. But at present, he was still suffering from the aftermath of last year. And it was hoped to be a necessary phase for at best, it might help him to get a better grip on himself and to handle the coming strokes of fate.
Twelve awful years in Azkaban going before an escape, and two years of hiding to come to such a… a pathetic end ? Falling through a veil, what kind of death is that ? It's so unfair ! Had he done anything wrong ? He'd just been mistakenly said to be a murderer for a great part of his life, is all !
Harry took off his glasses and rubbed the top of his nose between his eyes. Thinking of Sirius would inevitably bring his nerves on edge before he would broke or punch something. He had broke down enough this previous summer at Grimmauld Place where all reminded him of his loss and guilt.
In a fit of weariness, he raised his eyes up to the sky dissimulated by the many junctions of branches and leaves of the tree.
He hardly slept at night. He would wake up with a headache screaming at him to get up and have some fresh air to cool him down. Grudgingly, he would take his invisibility cloak with his marauder map, climb down to sit in various parts of the grounds, and ponder on his ability to be constantly in trouble and to bring misfortune to his loved ones circle.
He had spend the first month at Privet Drive. The Dursleys had behaved as usual. They had tried their best to forget his existence, except for reminding him to write his loony acquaintances and tell that he was well-treated. Harry had wanted more than once to reply that being locked up in his bedroom all day long and being fed with just soup sent through his trap door, was far from what he called being well-treated. But he was used to it. And he had had all the peace wanted to mourn and drown himself in self-pity.
Moreover, he knew now why he had to return in the house he hated so much, so he couldn't blame Dumbledore anymore for making him stay there every summer for no apparent reason. Indeed, the headmaster had told him at the end of last year, that it was the safest place for him to be in due to the power of his mother's blood. His aunt Petunia - by accepting to take Harry in when he was just a baby - had allowed this place to protect him and to be impregnable by Voldemort. And despite his reluctance at living under the Dursleys's roof, he had come to admit that his aunt had accepted quite a dangerous responsibility. She had put herself and all her family in jeopardy by raising him. But still, it didn't quite excuse them for the horrible way Harry had been brought up.
The day of his sixteenth birthday, he had been brought to the Order of The Phoenix's Headquarters. There, he had tried to look happy at the party the members of the Order and his friends had organized.
Sure, seeing Ron and Hermione had cheered him up but he had firmly decided to put some distance with them in order not to put them in danger any more. But Hermione had seen clear in his behaviour and she had quickly and crossly reminded him that they were not ready to let him down and that he just would have to cope with them always being there for him. That's just friends do and any way, it was long since they had put themselves in the same mess, being close to him from eleven, helping the order and thus, becoming targets of Voldemort and his henchmen.
Harry had once again, tasted the rightness of Hermione's statements and found that standing up to her lectures was useless. So, he had wisely allowed himself to enjoy their company.
But sometimes, when he was too suffocated by the bleak atmosphere of the house, he had cried silently in his bed or punched hard against something. Ron, afraid of Harry seriously getting hurt, had tried to protect him from his own outbursts and had even once had to come to blows to prevent him from smashing the window with his fist. The fight over, Harry had calmed down and had surprisingly kept his head since.
Some leaves spread in the ground drew Harry's attention. He noticed their warm colors, red and brown, telltale of the coming autumn. He immediately thought of the all too peculiar hair of his two best friends. He sighed eavily.
I wish they were out of this. I wish they would never be hurt any more.
He cared so deeply for Ron and Hermione that it made him sick to think something could happen to them.
He closed his eyes. Images of the Department of Mysteries invaded his mind – a stream of violent memories of hooded men, chases in dark corridors and curses' fireworks, vivid recollections of Hermione down hit by a curse and Ron with scars all over his upper body. He sighed again and picked up a twig. He began to crack it several times absently.
I'm bound to repeat some mistakes, he thougth. He had proved by walking straight headlong to Voldemort's trap at the Ministry, that he was terribly reckless.
If it weren't for me, Sirius would still be alive… And I'm supposed to defeat the Dark Lord ? And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives… Damn.
At this moment, he wished with all his might he was not burdened with a dire prophecy and that he could just live a normal teenager's life.
The sun was more and more piercing is way through the foliage above him, giving the impression that a myriad of spangles had been sprinkled from the top of the tree. His skin was getting warmer. A soft breeze came running in his hair.
The nature was waking up.
All his gloomy thinking was making Harry feel tired. So he welcomed the sunshine's warmth and closed his eyelids while concentrating on his breathing. He yawned. His worries were gradually subsiding - for the time being at least.
It was still early, but Harry began to hear hustle and bustle in the castle. Knowing that he had better moving now before the majority of the students woke up, he reluctantly put his glasses back on and stood up.
And trying not to think of anything, he made his way to the entrance hall.
There, the silence - except for the snores of some portraits still asleep - greeted him. He saw the torches hung on the cold stone walls quietly blowing out one by one as if there had been a sudden draught.
He didn't mind being alone for a little time longer. If he didn't pass someone, he wouldn't have to answer about how was he or why was he already awake. It was saturday, so he knew his wandering at six in the morning would be suspicious.
Bang !
All of a sudden, Harry heard the characteristic sound of someone bumping into an armour. It happened sometimes when the armours changed of place overnight to stretch their legs a little, surprising people in the morning. Quickly, he looked at his map and his eyes goggled when he saw Filch was just a few steps away. Hastily, he looked around him. Where could he find a hide ?
A whole painful moment of hard thinking went by.
Then - and he would certainly have knocked his forehead if he hadn't been afraid of making noise - he remembered his invisibility cloak he was holding tight in his hand and hurriedly put it on.
Few seconds later, Argus Filch appeared, rumbling out about stupid tricks, Peeves and little brats conspiring against his life.
Phew, that was pretty close, Harry thought mopping his brow. Pressing himself against a tapestry and holding his breath, he watched the old caretaker moving away.
Afterward, he silently walked towards Gryffindor tower with his heart still beating like mad in his chest.
When stepping into his dormitory, he noticed all the curtains of his dorm mates' four-poster beds were still shut. He tiptoed towards his own.
A little while later, while lying down on his bed and hearing the powerful snores of Neville, he wished he could sleep as peacefully, without worring of what destiny could be keeping in store for him. He then shut his eyes, and slowly drifted off.
"#" "#" "#" "#"
"Arg !…cough… you moron !"
Harry's eyes snapped open. From one movement, he sat bolt upright and draw his curtains apart.
What he saw surprised him.
Seamus was sitting on the legs of a very irrited Dean who oddly, didn't seem to like being awaken by the repetition of a pillow thrown in his face. On the contrary, Dean, Ron and Neville who were now very awake, found the situation rather funny and were laughing their head off.
"'Morning hedgehog !" Ron brightly said when he saw that Harry was finally up.
Harry especially didn't want to appear sullen. Besides, he liked when his best friend was lightening the mood, so he played along.
"Hello freckled potato face."
"That doesn't hurt, you know ! I happen to know that girls like boys with freckles."
"Where did you hear such a stupid thing ?" Seamus said. He had already recovered from Dean's joke and was now sitting by him on the edge of his bed. "Did you hear that from an actual girl ? And don't say your mother because it just doesn't count."
Ron's grin dropped.
"Well… of course not ! You git. I… well… I'm certainly not going to quote my sources any way, so just bugger off." He started to rummage in his trunk, probably to conceil his embarrassment. But it was without taking the traitorous red of his ears into account.
"Wow ! No need to be that rude ! And to think I didn't believe them when they talked about your touchiness…" Seamus replied, mildly under his breath but loud enough for everyone to hear.
"What !" Ron stopped in his motion and then stood up straight.
"Who said that ? If I come across them I swear I'll bloody make them regret it."
In a burst of anger, he clenched his fists and agitated them towards the two boys.
"I-am-not-touchy-one-bit ! Did you hear ?"
Then, he started to pull his pyjamas off while still rumbling. He clearly didn't want to carry on with the conversation.
"Trust me, if you knew who they are, you wouldn't dare to look for a fight." This time it was Dean who replied with mischievious eyes. He seemed very amused by the all thing and keep exchanging knowing glances with Seamus.
"Uh ? Wait a minute. How many of you are keeping secret things here ? Who are they ? Harry, do you know about it ?"
Ron was stripped to the waist and all red-faced now. Harry wanted to smile because Ron's aspect conveyed to his mind the funny image of a large cherry with a fiery wig on a white stick. In fact he looks rather like a huge lollipop, he noticed. But he thought better of it and kept his face motionless.
"Ron, listen, I don't know anything about it. But if you want my advice, you shouldn't fall for it that easily."
"Err… right." Ron seemed confused.
He turned his head towards Dean and Seamus who were trying their best not to say anything. It was time to calm down Ron who was indeed, very sensitive when it came about what people thought of him.
Ron threatened Dean and Seamus with his finger : "You ! Tell me that's just a stupid joke."
"Yeah, sorry mate. That was a bad one."
Everybody knew Ron lost his temper easily, so Seamus decided to drop the subject before the lanky boy blew up completely.
Ron, satisfied, but his ears still a little pink, turned his back on them to put his dress on. And it was fortunate, for if he had saw the wink Seamus gave to Dean, he might have pestered them with the rumour some more.
"#" "#" "#" "#"
Here it is ! The beginning of my first fanfiction ever. But I have to say that writing about Harry Potter's world is quite a motivation.
It's always a great time for me to discover splendid stories, so thanks to this site, thanks to the writers and thanks to you the readers of course !
Another thing : I hope that the oddities you may found in the text are not too much of a problem. Well… that's because english isn't my native language. I'm french.
I really hope you'll enjoy this story at least as much as I was pleased to write it.
To post a review is not an obligation, but I'd be truly be glad if you dit it !
Lilitorcen.