Stolen
AN: something that I wrote after reading W.B. Yeats' The Stolen Child. Please review.
/italics/ - faery language.
/text/ - thoughts
Warnings: OOC, Angst, Slight Child Abuse (Neglect mostly)
No pairings (at the moment)
Disclaimer: I own nothing besides the plot...
Stolen
Harry Potter sat reading a rather advanced book beneath a massive old oak tree on his fifth birthday. He had been there for most of the morning, watching while his parents and uncles set up a party for his younger brother's birthday. No one had even noticed he was there, yet the moment Evan had come down stairs their father had wished Evan a 'Happy Birthday' and their mother had asked him what he wanted for breakfast, whereas Harry had gone to the kitchen and the house elves had given him his favourites.
Harry was different to the his family. His mother had long red curly hair and brilliant emerald green eyes, his father had messy black hair and sapphire blue eyes, and his younger brother Evan had messy red hair and blue eyes. Harry, on the other hand, had long straight silver white hair and one blue eye and one green eye. Another difference was that Harry's skin was much darker than that of his family. Whereas they had golden tans from spending time in the sun, Harry, who spent most of his time inside reading, had dark chocolate almost black skin, which made him stand out in a crowd...
Not that many people ever noticed him when his parents remembered to take him out with them... after all his younger brother Evan was the Boy-Who-Lived...
Evan Potter laughed as he played hide and seek with his Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus in the woods that surrounded his home. He blinked as he ran around a tree and saw a little black boy sitting there reading a book.
"Hi I'm Evan. Who're you?" He said as he stared at the strange boy.
The boy looked up at Evan with tears in his oddly coloured eyes. He rubbed at them before looking away. He was saved from answering when Sirius Black raced around the tree and grabbed Evan like a football.
Remus Lupin followed Sirius more sedately and stared at the young boy as well. "Excuse me lad, but were you aware that you are on private property?" Remus asked as he knelt next to the boy. "Do your parents know where you are?"
The boy nodded as he shut his book. "Yes, I told them where I was going. But I should probably be heading back now anyway."
The three of them watched as the young boy stood and walked away from them. He soon slipped from their minds as they ran back through the woods to the Potter Manor where Evan's party was being held.
A tall silvery being appeared in the trees near where the boy had been reading. /Poor human child, he deserves so much better than they give him... Maybe it is time again for our interference?/
Another being appeared beside the first, this time it appeared to be made of shadows. /Only if the child understands the call... But I do believe you are correct this time.../
Harry sighed as he sat beneath a table watching as his brother opened present after present. It was the same every year, he would sit and wait for someone to acknowledge him or pass him a present. But it hadn't happened yet and was shaping up to be that way yet again. He turned away and laid back on the soft grass enjoying the peace of his shadowy hiding place.
He was just drifting when he heard soft chanting that seemed to caress and soothe his soul.
/Where dips the rocky highland
Of Sleuth Wood in the lake,
There lies a sleepy island
Where flapping herons
Wake the drowsy water-rats;
There we've hid our faery vats
Full of berries
And of reddest stolen cherries.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand./
He looked around trying in vain to see where the speaker was. It seemed as if no one had heard it either. Harry shrugged as he laid back down and drifted off into a daydream about having someone love him...
Evan frowned as he looked around the party for the boy he had met in the woods earlier that morning. The boy wasn't there. But his attention was drawn back to the presents he was being given, and he forgot all about the other boy.
Harry smiled sweetly as he continued to hear the softly spoken verses. He glanced up as he saw a glimmering light amongst the trees that surrounded Potter Manor.
/Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim grey sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And anxious in its sleep.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand./
Severus Snape frowned as he glanced around the courtyard looking for the Potters' oldest son, Harry. /He isn't here again... I wonder where he is this time.../ Severus sighed as he watched the massive pile of presents slowly decrease in size as the younger boy opened them. /I'm glad I didn't put Harry's present with the others. I'm fairly sure that Potter would have given it to Evan./
Harry smiled as he continued to hear the soft chanting that was slowly enticing him into searching for the owners of the voices.
/Where the wandering water gushes
From the hills above Glen-Car,
In pools among the rushes
That scarce could bathe a star,
We seek for slumbering trout
And whispering in their ears
Give them unquiet dreams;
Leaning softly out
From ferns that drop their tears
Over the young streams.
Come away, O human child!
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand./
Severus frowned as he searched all the faces of the children looking for that of his second godson, Harry. He caught sight of something silver in the woods just before he heard a soft verse drifting on the breeze.
/Away with us he's going,
The solemn-eyed:
He'll hear no more the lowing
Of the calves on the warm hillside
Or the kettle on the hob
Sing peace into his breast,
Or see the brown mice bob
Round and round the oatmeal-chest.
For he comes, the human child,
To the waters and the wild
With a faery, hand in hand,
From a world more full of weeping than he can understand./
Every adult at the party shivered as they heard a softly spoken verse. They had all experienced a feeling of loss, like something precious had disappeared from their lives. They quickly looked for their children and noted that none were missing.
They all shrugged it off as a random occurrence and returned to the party, unaware that the Potter Heir had vanished that day...
AN: What do you think? Should I continue this? Review and let me know. (^_^) The poem belongs to W.B. Yeats.