Never Lost by Erhothwen
Disclaimer: JK Rowling's puppets; I'm just playing with them.
Post Order of Phoenix
Harry, James, and Lily
Prologue to 'Never' Series
G, General/Drama
Vignette
Harry dreams about leaving the world he knew and loved, finding the end of his journey.
-
He shivered, though there was no cold—no winter chill to slash against his already marred face like a knife. His hair was tousled, mussed like he had been through endless travel. His ink black robes were sullied with dirt, so weatherworn with use that it had already begun to tear ever so slightly at the seams. Buttons were missing and the pockets were like a rat's treasure trove, hiding crumbs and grime in its alcove.
His face was pale, though not with shock or with fright. But with sorrow, like a ghost that haunted his footsteps and all his draining quench of glory was spent. His lips were chapped, dried so brittle they cracked like porcelain that was messily glued back together.
He had already become deathly homesick, he longed to see the people back home. How he longed to see his companions, the people he loved who were still alive, Hogwarts and its entire splendor....
His eyes were mystic, filled with the understanding of time—like someone who had seen his days go by too quickly, like someone who had seen only the light of dawn through a dusty window, like someone who had been through more than he had asked for. Like someone who had seen both the good and the bad from early on. Everyone always said he had mother's eyes.
Puzzling was the fact that he was a mere teenager, his wisdom yet to ripen, breathing the breath of youth and lingering adolescence, his mind unable to comprehend his future.
And from afar, you might have thought him a petty vagabond, traveling until the end of his days.
But that was not the case.
Nameless faces passed him by without a care in the world, and yet he continued on his way. He had never given up, even to his untimely end.
For his face still held the glow of innocence and of hurt, like soft tide that was stronger than the calm of the still sea, but not as wild as a storm's roaring waves.
His lips still held a rosy tinge and they were forever set to curl up into the tiniest of smiles.
But his emerald eyes told the truth. Like wonder they were behind round-rimmed glasses, holding on a sort of brilliance—a dazzling radiance of powerful knowledge maturing in growth and insight yet to come, though he had definitely gone through his numerous shares of foolhardiness and ignorance. So charming his eyes were, warm with gratitude and consideration, an enigma that held his fiery passion, even arrogance.
But it had been a long time and no one recognized him in this new strange place, a definite first.
This bit of information left not a dent in his heart, for he still kept hope, hope that lingered high above despair in his soul and his mind. The people had his faith, whether he had theirs or not.
A middle-aged couple approached the boy, theirs eyes nervously darting, and the man asked him, "Are you lost?"
"No sir. I was never lost."
A smile came across the couple's faces, delight shining in their eyes.
"Of course you weren't."
A moment of silence passed between them, two sets of identical and familiar green eyes, the woman and the messy-haired boy, drilled holes into one another. Then man beside him took his hand, and the teenager clasped tightly to the larger hand. The boy looked up into the man's face, a face not unlike his, and then to the auburn haired woman beside him.
"This isn't real and I don't think this is how it's supposed to happen," he whispered.
Suddenly Harry Potter was swept up in a tight bear hug and he felt so glad, so right, in his parents' arms. He forgot about his earlier thoughts, for that it was only a strange dream, forgot everything for just that one moment. Anyone passing would have thought Lily and James were the happiest people in the world. Harry felt Lily press a peck to his forehead, her tears gently grazing him, and there were no words to describe this experience.
"You didn't expect me this early, did you?" asked Harry rather submissively.
"No, we didn't expect you for a long time," admitted Lily, her emerald eyes probing into Harry's.
"Come, Sirius has been patiently waiting—which is something he rarely does, and we can talk, talk about everything and anything. We now have all the time in the world," said James, gesturing to where Sirius stood. "And it's like you said, Harry. You were never lost."
And in a few minutes when Mrs. Weasley would gently shake him awake, Harry would wish his father's words had been true, that he had all the time in the world.
Disclaimer: JK Rowling's puppets; I'm just playing with them.
Post Order of Phoenix
Harry, James, and Lily
Prologue to 'Never' Series
G, General/Drama
Vignette
Harry dreams about leaving the world he knew and loved, finding the end of his journey.
-
He shivered, though there was no cold—no winter chill to slash against his already marred face like a knife. His hair was tousled, mussed like he had been through endless travel. His ink black robes were sullied with dirt, so weatherworn with use that it had already begun to tear ever so slightly at the seams. Buttons were missing and the pockets were like a rat's treasure trove, hiding crumbs and grime in its alcove.
His face was pale, though not with shock or with fright. But with sorrow, like a ghost that haunted his footsteps and all his draining quench of glory was spent. His lips were chapped, dried so brittle they cracked like porcelain that was messily glued back together.
He had already become deathly homesick, he longed to see the people back home. How he longed to see his companions, the people he loved who were still alive, Hogwarts and its entire splendor....
His eyes were mystic, filled with the understanding of time—like someone who had seen his days go by too quickly, like someone who had seen only the light of dawn through a dusty window, like someone who had been through more than he had asked for. Like someone who had seen both the good and the bad from early on. Everyone always said he had mother's eyes.
Puzzling was the fact that he was a mere teenager, his wisdom yet to ripen, breathing the breath of youth and lingering adolescence, his mind unable to comprehend his future.
And from afar, you might have thought him a petty vagabond, traveling until the end of his days.
But that was not the case.
Nameless faces passed him by without a care in the world, and yet he continued on his way. He had never given up, even to his untimely end.
For his face still held the glow of innocence and of hurt, like soft tide that was stronger than the calm of the still sea, but not as wild as a storm's roaring waves.
His lips still held a rosy tinge and they were forever set to curl up into the tiniest of smiles.
But his emerald eyes told the truth. Like wonder they were behind round-rimmed glasses, holding on a sort of brilliance—a dazzling radiance of powerful knowledge maturing in growth and insight yet to come, though he had definitely gone through his numerous shares of foolhardiness and ignorance. So charming his eyes were, warm with gratitude and consideration, an enigma that held his fiery passion, even arrogance.
But it had been a long time and no one recognized him in this new strange place, a definite first.
This bit of information left not a dent in his heart, for he still kept hope, hope that lingered high above despair in his soul and his mind. The people had his faith, whether he had theirs or not.
A middle-aged couple approached the boy, theirs eyes nervously darting, and the man asked him, "Are you lost?"
"No sir. I was never lost."
A smile came across the couple's faces, delight shining in their eyes.
"Of course you weren't."
A moment of silence passed between them, two sets of identical and familiar green eyes, the woman and the messy-haired boy, drilled holes into one another. Then man beside him took his hand, and the teenager clasped tightly to the larger hand. The boy looked up into the man's face, a face not unlike his, and then to the auburn haired woman beside him.
"This isn't real and I don't think this is how it's supposed to happen," he whispered.
Suddenly Harry Potter was swept up in a tight bear hug and he felt so glad, so right, in his parents' arms. He forgot about his earlier thoughts, for that it was only a strange dream, forgot everything for just that one moment. Anyone passing would have thought Lily and James were the happiest people in the world. Harry felt Lily press a peck to his forehead, her tears gently grazing him, and there were no words to describe this experience.
"You didn't expect me this early, did you?" asked Harry rather submissively.
"No, we didn't expect you for a long time," admitted Lily, her emerald eyes probing into Harry's.
"Come, Sirius has been patiently waiting—which is something he rarely does, and we can talk, talk about everything and anything. We now have all the time in the world," said James, gesturing to where Sirius stood. "And it's like you said, Harry. You were never lost."
And in a few minutes when Mrs. Weasley would gently shake him awake, Harry would wish his father's words had been true, that he had all the time in the world.