The Keeper and the Seeker

Disclaimer: I own nothing that has anything to do with Harry Potter or any allusions, conscious or unconsciously made, to any other books/tv/movies, etc. and I'm poor, don't sue me.

Note from Author: this story was started a while ago and I'm posting it on a whim. If it is received kindly with constructive criticism, I may be assuaged to continue it. Harry Potter was a childhood favorite of mine but I'm certainly no expert in the subject anymore. Please forgive any mistake I make in regards to remembering the specifics of Rowling's work.
Ideas I may have had in the past have by now mostly slipped from my mind. If readers would like to see something happen in the tale or have any plot lines to share with me, I'd be glad to read them, consider them, and may use them with due credit to its origin. Perhaps this can become the brainchild of many


Prologue

The moon seemed dull tonight. A haze of gloom covered its usual pearly glow. The constant watchmen of the heavens who sparkled from the velvet black skies were now eerily absent from view.

Those twin sapphires in the darkness were searching; searching for something on the horizon.

Someone.

Then, as the dusky streams of pink and gold washed the night away from her eyes, she found him. Azure eyes lifted to meet ebony brows as she sent a prayer to the heavens. Midnight lashes fluttered in the breeze of a new morn as her tears rained down. For the first time in days, rosy lips curved into a shadow of a smile.

The sight of a goddess at dawn on top of that uppermost tower was a most splendid and moving sight. It could freeze men in its tracks from the sheer radiance of her beauty against the splendor of Aurora's light. And freeze men it did, as the lone horseman she searched for reigned in his steed and gazed up at her. His lips, weathered and chapped not from the cold of winter but seasoned battle, mirrored in a smile of his own.


CHAPTER ONE


August, 1997

Harry stood on a hill overlooking Ottery St.Catchpole, the wind blowing his already untamable hair every which way. His cape flapped in the light sweet smelling breeze and he smiled as he first caught view of The Burrow. Harry laughed to himself as he compared The Burrow with his previous dwellings these past few months and silently wondered which was heaven and which was hell.

He had traveled so far seen all the riches and splendor the world could possibly have to offer and now he wanted nothing more than to be back at The Burrow, where he could be normal for a while. Harry wanted to lay his head down on the ratty pillow in Ron's room and not lift it again for hours. He wanted to eat Mrs. Weasley's delicious cooking and play Quidditch outside with all the Weasleys. He yearned for the days where he could just rest.

But he couldn't. Harry was forced to back into his reality, a reality filled with danger and purpose. He had news to deliver and a certain mission to complete, which, if he failed to complete it, might cost him the lives of all those he held most dear.

"Merlin," thought Harry. "How morbid! Even the voices in my head even have started to sound like her. She's really starting to drive me mad really" Harry stated with a wry grin.

He walked steadily and with purpose toward that house full of good memories, leaning precariously and held up by whatever invisible forces lingered there. Trudging through tall weeds that were in dire need of mowing and sidestepping the various garden gnomes that darted in the path, Harry dragged his feet a little, held back by a slight dread of facing those he'd avoided for so long. He'd caused them pain and now he had to face their reaction

Harry's thoughts flew back to those pretty nymphs prancing around in airy clothes and whispering dark thoughts in his head with wicked grins.

"It's been a long dance, Harry" said one. "and it's time to pay the fiddler" giggled another; "but it's sure been a pleasure dancing with you!" whispered the third smallest one in the soft lilting tones he'd grown to love.

He laughed to himself again with a tinge of fondness in his voice and shook his head to try to clear it of morbid voices and their owners.


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