I don't own it. by the way it's a sequel to what I'm working on right now.
its a rewrite of my other one (this one will be a tad different) so read and review both, the other one's on my other pen name: Caitlyn. merry christmas!
okay..timeframes
Future
Past
Present
there ya go
Chapter one- Listening, Dreaming, and Dying:
"Hermione...stop...please.."his head was in his hands, nad she glanced up, angry.
"Why the hell should I listen to you?" she whispered faintly,"I'm insane! If I close my eyes this is all going to go away.."she murmered, and Harry put a hand on her shoulder, making her jump.
"Get your hand off my arm..."she snapped, and he jerked his hand back.
"This was a mistake.."he whispered, and looked at the door.
"So you're going to run away again? How about an explanation? I mean..I'm not really sure if I want to hug you or murder you right now..."she was on a rant, and he held his hand up.
"Listen then.."he said quietly, and took a deep breath,"This is going to take a while.."
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July 31rst, 1997
London, England
He'd been a mystery to everyone since he'd arrived in March. They'd found him, tied to the remanants of a mostly destroyed chair in a mostly destoryed house many miles away, in a small town called Little Hangleton. He hardly seemed the social type, preffering to stay out of the spotlight, though he had a few friends that he had aquired. When they asked him his name he hadn't answered, and eventually, apon everyone's perisitance, had given out the name James. At the moment he was lying in bed, but as soon as the clock struck twelve he shot up from his sheets, a hand clasped to his forehead.
"Christ.."he murmered faintly, and looked at the clock, having a strange feeling of deja vu.
He was experiencing what one of his friends, Chris, had dubbed a vuing attack. He had vauge dreams of a past he didn't remember often, and would wake up with an intense pain in his forehead. There was no remanent of a lightning bolt shaped scar, which along with many, had been removed by his adoptive parents, a wealthy family, the Carltons, who owned a large department store in the London area.
The rest of the world seemed quiet, but inside his head there was a screaming yearing ache for something he couldn't recognise. He always felt that something was missing, no matter how much he had, or how happy he seemed. He knew, deep in his head, that the funny people on the street that he saw out of his car window seemed to know him. Once even, at the Department store his father owned, Stuarts, he'd come across one of these boys with the farmilliar yet untraceable crest on his sweater, his mother hurrying him along.
"It's hard to believe you've lost all that puppy fat..." the lady had muttered, and her son had given her a dramatic roll of his eyes before facing her.
"I was fat, mother.."he responded tonelessley, and caught Harry's eyes for a moment, making James stumble.
"Mr. Carlton?" he put a hand to
his head,"James, are you alright?" he nodded vaugely, a hand clutched to
his forehead, and looked back at the boy, his eyes narrowed in confusion.
"It's nothing Peter..but do you
think I could have an asprin please?"
"Anything you say, sir..."his assistant rushed off into the back of the store, and Harry continued to stare at the boy, who stared back until he exited the store with his mother, putting any un easiness about the boy to rest. It didn't matter, he probably didn't know him anyways. But what if he did?
He was snapped out of his trance when he saw the sun over the horizon, and his stomach gave the farmilliar jolt, which James didn't understand. He didn't have much time to think about it though, because his mother called him from upstairs.
"James darling! You've gotten a letter!" his mother's voice rang up the stairs, and he smiled, getting out of bed,"Why don't you come downstairs and read it, dear?"he shrugged, and ran down the steps two at a time, sliding into the kitchen with his socks on, his hair askew. James had the type of hair that couldn't be tamed, but only worsened by combs and brushes.
"Morning!"he said brightly, and grabbed a piece of toast, looking at the letter strangely. It was in a black envelope, with a silver seal on it, and he opened it, reading the contents quickly before shutting the letter, his face pale, his hand shaking.
"It's nothing mum.."he murmered, and closed the letter,"Could you call the hospital for me though? I've run out of the medication.."she nodded slowly, and looked down, which promted James to say more.
"I'm alright mum..I promise..it's just a headache.."he was able to get back upstairs before he clutched his forehead in agony, the letter falling to the ground, open. That letter had to be the tool to only further confirm his insanity. It was a death notice, but the funeral arrangements had been written out with names from his little episodes.
Harold James Potter
July 31rst, 1980-February
3rd, 1996
A memorial service is
to be held in Diagon Alley on August 3rd, 1996
with Draco Malfoy to
speak in his memory
At the deceased's request,
there will be no wake
He managed to make it to his bed before falling asleep again, unfarmilliar images once again haunting his brain.
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February 3rd, 1996
"Come on..it's just a few more steps.."Ron was pulling Hermione through
the
gravestones, and glanced back, sheilding his eyes when the mansion
exploded. It was dark, and he could hardly see anything, but the only concious
thought in his mind was to get out of there. Until he heard the explosion.
He was going to turn back, but now he couldn't. He rearranged the look
of horror on his face before turning and helping Hermione.
"Damnit!"he cursed to himself, and lifted Hermione into his arms,"Sweetheart..come on.."he touched both their hands to the necklace, and felt the tug in his navel before he ended up at Hogwarts, in front of the school. That's what he'd told him to do, use the necklace, but as easy at it sounded it was the hardest thing for him to do in his lifetime.
"Come on.."he said,"Don't give up on me now..I already lost a best friend
today..I
can't.."she opened her eyes slowly, and glanced up at him, confused.
"Did you save.."she started, and Ron took a deep breath, before whispering the words to her.
She started sobbing, and hugged Ron around the waist, her head on his chest,
her
tears soaking his dirty and torn robes.
"Come on sweetheart..Harry would've wanted us to..where is everyone? In class..come on..we'll find Minny and we'll..."they knocked on the door together, leaning against eachother for support, before Hermione turned towards him, dejected, her expression stoic.
"What about Voldemort Ron..did we finally.."
"He's gone.."Ron said quielty, not thinking about Voldemort at all, tears in his eyes, opened the door.
"Oh my goodness..."Minny said breathlessly, looking at the two students who had been missing for months.
"Minny...Voldemort's dead..Harry killed him..."Hermione said weakly, leaning against Ron, feeling as if she could collapse at any moment.
"Both of you look hurrendous..where's Harry??"she asked, and Ron glanced down, not wanting to say the words again, but knowing that he had too.
"The building exploded before I could do anything..I tried..."he trailed off, and she put a hand to her mouth, trembling suddently.
"Dear god.."she said soflty,"Come on..I'll get you to Poppy..and alert Dumbledore..."
Suddenly the Headmaster appeared in the doorway, and Ron and Hermione glanced up.
"He went after you didn't he??" Dumbledore asked quietly, and they both nodded,"Miss Weasley must be called back from her duties for quite some time anyways...I guess I might as well..yes.." he seemed to be having a coversation with himself, and they both turned to stare him, confused.
"Why does my sister need a leave from her duties?" Ron asked quietly, strain evident in his voice.
"She's pregnant..Mr. Weasley.."Dumbledore awnsered, and Ron's mouth opened
in
shock.
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so, what did ya think? read? Review? Its christmas! :o