AN: I think you know that none of these characters and locations are mine. And that I'm not JKR. :D
Chapter 1
Flecked Hazel Meets Starless Blue
A crisp little breeze blew through Hogsmeade's Main Street, making the odd stray leaf flutter about. It was spring and the leaves I just mentioned were still left-overs from last autumn that had been buried by the heavy snow and had re-emerged as the days got warmer. Anyway, where was I? Oh yes, it was spring. Spring had also made other things awaken, for example the little male sparrow, sitting on a twiggy branch, that was trying desperately to impress a squirrel. Poor little guy.
A young girl, no older than four, skipped down the road in yellow wellies chanting a funny little tune: "Spring, spring, spring is almost here. Spring, spring, spring is the time to cheer. Spring, spring, spring is almost here. Spring, spring, spring the sky will be so clear..."
Daphne looked up and snorted quietly. The sky was glum and grey, typical English weather for you. This thick blanket of glumness was not going anywhere any time soon.
SLAM!
Daphne dropped her multiple shopping bags into a puddle, (wasn't she a lucky one, ey?) as somebody bumped into her.
"Oi! Watch where you walk, lady!" a young lad of about sixteen sneered down at her. Daphne let a hiss escape through her teeth.
"Here," a raspy voice said next to her, "let me help you with that."
"No, no, no. I'm fine. Fine." she muttered, bending to gather her things. She groaned internally as she saw that her lovely slice of apple pie, that she was planning on having for lunch, was soggy and drenched from the dirty puddle water.
"Oh really, it's no bother at all. Here." the male voice said, handing her a box of broken eggs.
Daphne shook her head and wondered why somebody would even bother to help her on a day like this. "Really, you don't have to -" Daphne looked up, and narrowed her eyes. The man was smiling at her. He had a kind smile. No one had smiled at her like that in years. That smile twitched memories from her childhood. And school. But no, she couldn't think of that. It was too far back, and buried too deeply to be dug out now. And yet, the corners of her mouth tugged into a tentative smile in response. She straightened up and met his eyes. Hazel eyes, flecked with tiny brown spots. She'd recognise them anywhere. She would never forget them. A surge of memories burst through the dam that she had built up over the years, for her own mental well being and sanity. Hazel eyes flecked with brown spots. Her heart fluttered in her chest.
He looked back at her, politely and slightly reserved at first, before realisation dawned in those hazel eyes flecked with brown spots. Dark blue eyes, like a starless, clear night sky. He would recognise them anywhere. He would never forget them. But it couldn't be. He had to be mistaken. There were hundreds, possibly thousands of witches that passed through Hogsmeade each year, so, this couldn't be right. She shouldn't be here. It wasn't possible. She should be dead. Dead as a door mouse. This was just some weird, completely otherworldly coincidence.
"Theo...?" she whispered, no louder than the faintest spring breeze.
Dark blue eyes, like a starless, clear night sky. "Daph...?" he swallowed, barely able to keep on his legs as emotions he didn't even knew existed, and memories he had long forgotten, bombarded his conscious mind.
"Theo." she answered a bit louder, unable to believe what was standing right before her. It was him. She thought she'd been mistaken, but it was him. Without a doubt. She thought he'd died, but he hadn't. He was here. And very much alive. "Theo! Oh, Theo!" she dropped her carton of broken eggs and soggy apple pie, and buried her head in his oh-so familiar chest - breathing in his oh-so familiar smell. It had been too long.
The still, brown surface of the shallow puddle rippled like the Atlantic during a violent storm, as a single raindrop broke it like a bullet. Then another one fell from the sky. And another. And another. And before anyone could say 'Snidget on the Quidditch Pitch' it was raining sheets of exploding, wet missiles. Splat, splot, splash.
"Daph," Theodore took a small step back from her embrace, "I think it's raining."
She smiled up at him, her eyes giving birth to millions of bright stars, as if somebody had turned on a light with a flick of their wand. "You know what Theo, I think you're right. As always." She giggled like the little girl that he had become friends with back in their days at school, as a single rain drop fell on her cheek and slowly rolled down it like a crystal tear. It warmed his heart to see her giggle like that. He'd never in a million years thought that he'd be lucky enough to witness it again.
"Come on, Daph, let's go to the Three Broomsticks. Catch up. I think we've earned ourselves a good old butter beer."
"I couldn't agree with you more!" Daphne said, happily following Theodore down Main Street; that was now miserably vacant due to the horrible English weather; her puddle-wrecked groceries long forgotten.
The Three Broomsticks hadn't changed a bit since their school days; and so they found their old booth, where they had spent many a frosty winter day sipping butter beer and discussing classroom-politics with the rest of the gang; in no time at all. When they were seated and both clutching warm mugs of their favourite frothy buttery drink, Theo said, "So Daph, how long has it been?"
Daphne looked down at her hands, before meeting his gaze again. "Oh, I'd say about sixty years."
AN: Dun, dun, DUN!...review people of the world. I know when you are reading, I know when you don't review...I know if you've...ok I'll stop right there :)
