The Last Samurai
PROLOGUE
It was a dark night; as such things classically happen on.
Shadows flitted against the cobblestone street.
Ominous sounding crows came from the trees and corners.
Dark, cold, treacherous, sheets of rain hit the shadows; the cobblestone; the leaves.
All who had forgone all common sense before scurried into their humble abodes.
One stayed.
Harry Potter stayed.
He stood still, with such fluid grace that only one not aware of it can have.
He stayed.
And so it was.
His thin, lithe body either didn't move or moved with the earth.
His feet were planted lightly into the dead grass.
He became part of the surroundingsā¦
Melting into the night.
He would stay, the sky decided.
He would stay, the rain affirmed.
He would stay: and so it was.
