Crossing the Aisle
Chapter 1: Flight of the Chosen One
By: Steven Jester
WARNING: Chapter one contains extreme mental instability including acts of depression, suicidal tendencies (including acts of attempted suicide) and borderline psychosis; and graphic religious references. Reader discretion is advised.
Notes Disclaimers and Bullshit: I am not JK Rowling… therefore please do not compare my plots and characterizations strictly to that. As my English professor told my class, "… written communication starts with the reader." So what you are about to perceive is your interpretation of my interpretation of JK Rowling's characters. I don't own Harry Potter. This story is AU… so here are the changes: Blaise Zabini is a girl in this story. (Contradicts cannon from HBP) Harry is extremely suicidal and depressed in the summer between OotP and HBP. (Contradicts cannon from HBP) Harry does not get a crush on Ginny. (Contradicts general cannon that was confirmed after HBP) If I find something else, I'll let you know at the end.
"You were bold and
strong, and ready to begin your life
All for nothing, you were
sacrificed
You began alone, and so it will be when you die
All
for nothing, will you be remembered?
You did decide" –
"Guarded" by Disturbed
Death seems to surround the night. The blackness of supreme sleep is akin to the blackness of the night. On this night, however, Fate will guide men to their destiny instead of their demise. Our story starts at a local church. The church was empty save one sole parishioner. The parishioner was knelt before the alter holding a rosary and a copy of the Bible in her slender hands. She quietly said the Lord's Prayer and Psalm 23 to herself in offering of forgiveness to the Lord. Making the sign of the cross the parishioner rose and turned around. "All will be as the Lord has directed it," she whispered walking towards the back of the church. "Fate will bring together the Chosen One, who has seen the paths of Righteousness and Sorrow through the Lord, with the Confused Maiden, who has yet to understand her true position. The Chosen One bears a stronger cross than the Son of the Lord. Fate will see that he bears this cross well."
With that last bit of prophecy, the parishioner left the church.
Moments later a girl of sixteen awoke in a cold sweat. She looked around her darkened room, her blond hair trashing wildly. Finding nothing out of place, she lit a candle and elegantly walked to the other side of her room, her simple white nightgown trailing behind her. Sitting behind a lavish desk the young woman started to compose a letter.
Dearest Godfather,
I believe that I have come across something that may interest you. I had a dream of a prophecy being made. I don't want to give the details to you now because of the risk it will be intercepted. I fear, though, that this prophecy concerns a certain young couple. Godfather, I think I may be the girl involved… please, come and allow me to speak with you in person.
Your Goddaughter.
Satisfied with the contents, she rolled the parchment and tied it. Rising from her seat, crossed her room to the birdcage next to her bed. A tawny colored owl sat in the cage. Opening the bared door the young woman allowed the awoken bird to fly unto her arm. "Rei, take this letter to my Godfather," the young woman said. With a hoot of acceptance, the owl flew out the window. Satisfied that the matter was attended to, the young woman extinguished her light and returned to bed.
In a different setting, although at around the same time, a boy of around the same age awoke in a screaming fit. Clutching his forehead he sat up furiously tossing his sheets aside. Rising rapidly and crossing the small room, the young man tried to calm down. Not succeeding, the man knelt down in the center of the room. Grabbing a razorblade out of his pocket he rolled up the sleeve of his shirt revealing cross-shaped scars on his fragile wrist. He began to cut his flesh, letting the blood flow and sweet pain of release engulf him. Adding another cross to the row of crosses already taking residence on his wrist, he scooped the flowing blood from his vein. Rising and walking to the opposite wall he proceeded to smear the blood in the form of the cross. He walked over to the desk in the corner and pulled out a handkerchief. He held the handkerchief against the newly formed cross on his wrist to stop the bleeding. Once the bleeding stopped the youth set the handkerchief down on the desk and picked up a piece of parchment. This parchment already contained writing in the form of a short letter. The imbalanced boy walked over to a perch where a snowy-white owl sat. "Take this to him," the boy said venomously. The owl looked sadly onto her master and then took off with the letter.
Morning came to pass and, in a castle in northern Scotland, an old man was waking to two letters on his desk. "Mail? This early?" the man mused, "Who could have sent these?" Answering his own question, he picked up one of the letters scanning it quickly. "Hmm… this one seems to be from Blaise," the man said curiously. Setting that letter down, he picked up the other letter. Before unrolling the letter, the old man noticed a spot of dried blood. "Odd," the old man said to himself. He unrolled the letter carefully. The letter was from a boy named Harry Potter. The letter said that he was fine and not to worry. However, the letter was covered in specks of blood. Also adorning the letter were small ink crosses. This sight worried the old man. However, as long as Harry said he was fine, he was in the best place to be. No cause for alarm was raised. He would send someone in covertly to see that Harry was telling the truth, but deciding who would do it was the key. Looking back on the letter sent to him by his goddaughter, Blaise Zabini, the old man found who he was looking for.
Hours latter, Blaise was standing on the street where Harry Potter lived. How did I let Albus talk me into this? She wondered. Taking a deep breath she stepped up to number four and knocked at the door. The door opened revealing a very agitated woman. "Yes?" the woman questioned
"I'm here to see Harry Potter," Blaise said calmly, "My godfather, Albus Dumbledore, wanted me to check on him."
After sending what could only be described as death glare to Blaise, she said curtly, "He's on the second floor, to your left."
"Thank you," Blaise said equally as cold and proceeded past the woman up the stairs. Standing in front the door, Blaise steadied herself for what she would find and opened the door.
Harry turned sharply from his pacing and shouted "What are…?" before collapsing to the ground. Blaise let out a horrific scream.
EDIT: AUTHOR'S NOTES: Totally forgot to put these here... please read and review (R/R). After 88 hits and no reviews, I kinda got suspicious... there you go. Please R/R!