Her hair, damp and limp from the moisture, was normally light and shining with streaks of gold and silver. Her blue eyes completed the look of a Viking from ancient times. She shrugged her jacket to sit on her shoulders better and sighed silently. She would have zipped it up, but it was second-hand and the zipper was broken. A small, almost inaudible meow came from the bushes by the houses at her side. She looked and gave a small smile to the black and white cat. "Artemis, you always know where to find me when I run off, don't you?"
The cat, as if it understood her, trotted up to her feet, rubbing her body along the young woman's ankles while purring. "Yes, I know, we yelled again, didn't we? I'm sorry, kitty, I know it distresses you." As she reached down to scratch the cat behind the ears, the air suddenly became icy cold, the intense chill reaching down into her very soul. The cat hissed and ran- it's normal warning of danger. The darkness of the night seemed to swallow up the light making even the streetlights useless and unseen. She turned around, frantically trying to see through the inky blackness. Wind brushed past her left- someone or something was moving very quickly around her. She turned, trying to find it. As if made from the shadows a face, scabbed and mostly hooded, flew out and stopped inches from her own. It sucked in a rattling breath. Iciness flooded her awareness as painful memories overwhelmed her. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she heard a voice cry loudly words she could not understand.
Early morning light filtered by white curtains spilled over the sleeping form of a boy. This boy was unlike any other boy on his street. His black hair, though always untidy, was normal enough. Even his green eyes didn't seem out of place. No, what was so unusual about this boy started with a scar- a lightning shaped scar on his forehead.
Harry Potter was a wizard. In fact, he was one of the most famous wizards in the world. He had survived a curse that no other wizard had, and had faced the same wizard who cast it on him multiple times. He was coming of age today- not something he looked forward to like most teenagers his age would. Today he would set out to do what was his destiny and his right to do. Today he would set out to kill Voldemort once and for all.
But first, he had to meet his friends, for both of them had positively refused to let him go off on his own to complete this dangerous task. True friends to the end, he thought. Harry sighed, put on his glasses and went downstairs.
His Aunt Petunia, skinnier than ever and with tired bags under her eyes, didn't even acknowledge him as she fixed a cup of tea. Uncle Vernon, still beefy though a bit redder than normal, hid behind his copy of the London Times. Dudley was no where to be seen. Harry wasn't surprised, though, since Dudley had been taking to staying with his bully friends as much as possible. Since coffee had already been made, Harry decided that would do to start his day. As he sat down with his cup, black of course, he looked out the window and to his surprise noticed a large barn owl perched on the begonia bushes, it's head peaking out over the window ledge. Hoping his uncle wouldn't notice, he motioned for the owl to go to the upstairs window. Unfortunately, the owl didn't seem to understand and gave a loud hoot instead that snapped Vernon's attention rudely away from his reading. He turned around so quickly Harry could hear his neck crick and glared at the owl. Harry hastened to open the window, and while keeping the owl outside, took the letter from it's leg. It gave a hoot that sounded more like an exasperated sigh- it had been there all morning- and flew off.
"Can't you at least keep those filthy owls to your room?" Aunt Petunia had apparently noticed too, and was scowling at the window ledge as if trying to see any spots made by the bird.
Harry ignored her though, and went to read his letter. It was a scroll, with the seal from the Ministry of Magic.
To Harry Potter:
First of all, I want to say congratulations on your seventeenth birthday. I know we haven't been on very good terms, but I hope you will forgive us any trespasses we have suffered you. We would like to extend you an offer to assist the Ministry in a special project to locate and destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. This will also count towards your getting a position at the Ministry, perhaps as an Auror. Please respond as soon as you can.
Sincerely yours,
Rufus Scrimgeour Minister of Magic
Letters like this had been coming in since the school had completely emptied out after Dumbledore's funeral. Harry had refused to reply, figuring Scrimgeour already had his answer and knew it. No matter how hard he tried to persuade Harry, Harry wasn't going to side with the Ministry.
"Well, did they kick you out again? Perhaps another trial?" grumbled his uncle through his thick mustache.
"No." Harry gulped down the last of his coffee and headed out of the kitchen.
"Aren't you going to tell us what that was all about?"
"No." and he went upstairs, without looking back.
The sound of birds woke Ron. He rubbed his eyes, full of sleep and rolled over. Next to him a warm body stirred, a soft yawn was muffled by the comforter. He had to blink twice and think of how she got there.
Of course, earlier that summer he had invited her to come over, intending on getting with Harry soon after. She had shown up, bushy hair going everywhere as usual, brown eyes hidden behind a book of complicated magic. Each day they talked and helped each other around the house. It became comfortable.
Then there was last night. That was magical. The moon had been full, and it was a Hunter's moon as well. He had been out looking at it in the garden when Hermione had come out, startling him. They each had blushed, gazed at the moon, and then…
Well, I never thought it would lead to this, he thought, smiling. He gently touched her hair, remembering the details- her smell, her touch, her strength and gentle nature. As he stroked her hair, she rolled over and look at him.
And screamed.
"Woah! Wait a minute!"
"What th-? Ron!" She paused, brown eyes wide. "Did w-we r-really?"
"Um…yeah. I thought- but if you didn't- you said-"
"I'm sorry….I remember…I just thought it was a dream….Oh my god…what will my mother say?"
"Nothing if you don't scream loud enough she hears you all the way home."
"Ron!" at least he had gotten a laugh out of her on that one.
"Besides, if you're not careful, MY mum will hear you." He whispered to her urgently.
She giggled like a little girl, and kissed his cheek. As she got up to get dressed, she smiled at him that special smile of love, and mischief. He smiled back and watched her for a moment before doing the same thing so they could go downstairs and get breakfast. After she was fully dressed she kissed him again, on the other cheek this time and disapparated with a faint pop. Ron smiled to himself and made his way downstairs. He didn't notice the odd looks on his sister's and the twin's faces. Then again, he didn't notice his own humming on the way down either.