You found me

Prologue for something

Or just a one-shot, who knows.


It was probably 4 AM when I heard Noise. Noise, for those who don't know me very well (That means everyone lately), is my dog. My labradoodle. He was barking very loudly, which, of course, is plausible since his name is Noise. But there was something strange about that particular bark, at that particular night.

When I finally decided to go on and check my overly stressed dog, I got up from bed, complained a bit, and entered the room where Noise would normally be sleeping. Well, of course he was there, but he wasn't the one sleeping, obviously, since he was the one barking. The one sleeping in my couch was no other than Ginny Weasley.

And then I finally understood why the barking was so different than usual. Noise was scared. Why, you ask? No other reason than a pool of blood on the floor. But my dog wasn't scared of blood, oh, no. He had seen me come home several times with the worst bruises you could ever imagine. He was scared for Ginny's Life.

Noise and Ginny never met each other. I haven't seen Ginny for a long time either. To be more precise we haven't seen each other for 7 months, 7 days and, apparently, seven hours. I knew it right then that Noise felt that Ginny was an important part of my life. I knew that my dog, somehow, felt that the woman in front of him was the woman of my life. I didn't know how, but I just knew, like he did.

And I wondered how she found me…

But that was no time for those considerations. I ran to her, grabbed her head, with that impeccable red hair of hers, except for the fact that they were bloody, and touched her face to see if she was cold. But she wasn't. She was hot. Not in the seductive way, in which Ginny had proved to me, more than often, that she was indeed more than that kind of hot. Her face was red, and I assumed, like the genius that I am (note the sarcasm in my speech), that she had a fever. The first thing I considered was that she was sick. But, seriously speaking, that was stupid.

She wasn't sick in the way people get when they have a fever. She had Splinched. A whole part of her arm was gone, and I recognized that typical void in which parts of your body are lost while apparating. I worked as fast as I could. Got a little piece of cloth and put it onto her arm, pressing. Ran into the fireplace, holding her next to me. On my arms, like it should have always been.

"St. Mungus!" I yelled, but nothing would happen. And I dammed the day that I forgot to buy a autosuficient flu powder fireplace, like the one I used to have in Germany. I got a bit of flu powder with my free hand, without letting Ginny fall, threw it in the fireplace, and then yelled again:

"St. Mungus!"

I never knew, at that time, that my days of playing hide and seek were over. At least I've developed a good sense of humor to deal with the fact that Harry Potter could not run away anymore.

That's right. I'm Harry Potter. I "Killied" Voldemort. He actually killed himself, I just repeled his spell, but that's another story. People assumed that I was a hero, when I only felt like a loser. A total ass. The one to blame for the deaths of my dearest friends. The one and only "Chosen one".

The hide and seek was over, because I knew, at that moment, when I looked at her freckles before the green flames got any higher, that I could never leave my Ginny again. Never. Or so I hoped, and wished. She found me. The game was over. You found me.

And when I felt that sensation of spinning endlessly, passing through several fireplaces, I couldn't help but wonder:

"What if Noise was quiet?"


END…

Or not?

I don't know yet. Actually, I don't know if this will ever get published, but, who cares?

I'm a Brazilian, so forgive my English mistakes while writing; I don't know anyone that can help me correct the text. If there's any willing and loving person to be my beta for this piece, I would love to accept the offer.

I thought of this as a prologue for a bigger story, but I'll leave it as a one-shot for now, since I have other projects in my mind, like my Portuguese fanfics.

But I would love to continue on writing this story, because I have plans for it ^^

Can I get some Hugs for Brazil? I'd love to make friends trough Harry Potter Fanfiction. This is my first attempt to write something in Eglish, soo…. Yeah.

Enough talk, leave me some reviews for Harry's different point of view (pleaaase *puppy face*). If you want to know what happens next I might reconsider, but let's leaveitthatway.

J.W.