A Lonely Old Man
The water poured off her firm and perky breasts – causing her nipples to harden like torpedoes from the iciness that took hold of her bosom. The woman looked up to see an elderly man with a bemused look on his wrinkled face. It was, however, one that everybody knew.
"Why is it" he asked as he flicked his wand and dried her off, "That people are always pushing the button that says in very large letters 'DO NOT PUSH'? I suspect it is a mystery that I shall never solve"
"But if we do not push it, then how are we supposed to know what caused it to be taken out of order?"
"Spoken like a Ravenclaw. You know, you remind me in a lot of ways of Luna Lovegood…" the man chuckled at a private and long held memory as he led the way into the library room.
"Before we begin, Sir, can I just say how much of an honour it is to speak to you tonight?" the young Witch looked the somewhat frail old man sitting across from her in an old and well used wing backed armchair.
"An honour" the Wizard shook his head sadly. "I would not put it like that, but perhaps to you…" and he went silent. Shah looked around at the mantelpiece over the fire which held small glass display cases containing wands – each one of them sat on a purple velvet cushion with a brass plaque with names reading 'Hermione', 'Lavender', 'Sally-Anne', 'Gabrielle' and 'Luna'. They were but a few amongst all of the others that lined the library walls with cabinets, shelves and niches all filled with different wands on the same type of cushion and in the same type of case.
"Reminds me of a mausoleum" the Witch said.
"Well I imagine it is one of sorts. In this room can be found the wands of all those that died as a result of the war… As a result of my inability to save them in time. Everyday I sit in this room and remind myself what it truly was we fought, bled, lived and died for" replied the man. "I have not spoken about what happened for those months since the Battle of Hogwarts. When it was all over, we all swore not to talk about what happened until there was just one person left alive"
"Why is that?"
"Because in my nearly two hundred years of life, Miss Ira Shah, I have found most parts of the Magical Press to be somewhat… lacking in truthfulness. The public, as well, could take the smallest piece of information and blow it up into something that was not true at all. Things happened, Miss, which would make some people question my sanity. I, and those that were with me, did things that were very murky to say the least – things we would not normally have done if it had not been wartime. Others would use it as more evidence to have my person locked away and used as some sort of weapon the next time some Dark force came around…" the old man sighed and sipped at his whiskey. "This is the first interview I have given to the press in nearly forty years"
"May I ask why?" Shah asked – her curiosity peaked somewhat.
"Because you asked and did not demand a few moments of my time. Also, I was friends to both Parvati and Padma… Both of them were my friends, we stood together in battle and we bled together in battle. I know that the Patil family wouldn't do anything to disrespect me. Now, I suppose you would like to hear what I have to say about the war…" the man sighed slightly.
"It is why I came, Sir"
"Indeed?" the elderly wizard said dryly. "What I am about to tell you, Miss Shah, is to be published in full without any additions except where you feel points may be made a little more clear"
"I understand"
"Well then" the wizard put his empty glass on the table next to him and then leaned back into the oversized armchair he favoured so much, "It all started over a hundred and eighty years ago one summer. Nobody knew that day what was to come, was to happen and was to shape the future. I was at the Weasley family home to be at the wedding of Bill and Fleur. I'd met them both a few years before at the Tri-Wizard, and that was a right old load of crap too. Found out during the time that followed I could have got out of it because I didn't put my name the Goblet of Fire" the man snorted. "Goblet of Fire… Stupid bloody name for a cup with cold flames! Should have named it the Sippy Cup of Icicles" he shook his head. "Sorry, my dear Miss Shah. An old man is sometimes prone to go off on a tangent that takes a while to complete"
"From you, Sir" said Shah, "I don't think people would mind"
"Oh, you flatter a foolish old bugger" but the emerald eyes twinkled with amusement. "Well, let's start with the true story of the 2nd Dark War. The story that nobody has ever heard of before - my story… The story of Lord Harry James Potter"
A/N:
A short introductory chapter to the fic…
The OC of Ira Shah is named after my very good and EXTREMELY close friend who I have known all the way back since Primary School. Yes, believe it or not, I was once young…!
The following chapters will different to the others in that they will switch between the past and the "present" – it is something I have not tried before.
Reviews in the normal manner…
Pixel and Stephanie