A/N: A quick piece made in the afternoon of the day of upload: the last day of Ringling Bros and Barnum & Bailey Circus. There are a lot of tearjerking stories about this cropping up which pulled at my heartstrings (I've always held a special place for circuses), and I thought I'd give my own tribute to this sadly dying aspect of our culture. I wonder how long it will be before circuses will have to be explained to our children rather than shown, shunned in favour of cinema and such and all died out. Still, the show must go on. Written in HP fanfiction as... well, that tends to be my medium, and it makes a surprising amount of sense for Harry to run away to the circus or be left there by the Dursleys.
DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING.
A Circus Act
The tension in the air was truly palpable, Harry could taste it on the very tip of his tongue. Within his chest, his heart beat wildly as if trying to compensate within for the total silence without. He didn't let anything show, though; not the fear, the sadness or the overhanging melancholy. No, his face was strictly controlled into a confident - mayhap even cocky - grin as he stared into the - figurative, and literal - jaws of death.
His poise was perfect, his attitude unassailable as the gaping maw came closer, all sharp teeth and heaving breath of a large animal. A roar resounded loudly into his face, and the hot exhalations of the creature smelt of red meat and impending doom.
Slowly, his vision dipped inside until all he could see was the huge mouth of the predator around his much smaller head, the heat engulfing him first in wave after wave of humid breaths. There he paused for a moment, hanging in space and staring down the gullet of the beast, contemplating existence at a moment that seemed to stretch for eternity - wouldn't it almost be better now? For the jaws to snap close, and it all to be over with instead of it being dragged out like it was looking to be?
But it was not to be; there was a pull on his legs, and his gut hung in place for a moment before his small form was ripped upwards into the blinding light once more, firm hands grasping his feet as he hung upside down for all to see.
The crowd roared in approval as a fanfare played to the left.
Harry smiled, and waved from his position, his young, lithe form clad in coloured spandex and held aloft by the burliest of burly men as the eyes of the stadium were upon them. Below him, the tiger whose jaws he had been dipped into roared - as he had been trained by the pair - in time with the applause, before prowling out to rejoin his circling fellows.
Upon being placed back down by the large man, Harry and he bowed to the audience, smiles still set in stone on their visages - although, a single, rebellious crystal-like tear managed to escape from the raven-haired boy's eye as they ducked down.
Quickly, they absconded from the stadium with their big cats in tow as the ringmaster called their exit. Upon passing through the curtains - for the final time, fittingly - the man beside Harry collapsed down onto his knees, and let the tears flow. The boy couldn't help but stare at him for a moment; seeing the great man, normally a jolly, if distant, fellow for all the years they had known each other and worked together break down in such a way was devastating to the extreme. Likewise, on looking around his gaze settled on numerous similar, and equally unsettling sights as the crew gave in to their sadness. To see clown makeup run through genuine tears was a sight that should never have to be witnessed, Harry decided in that moment as he trudged off to the side to let the stone-faced acrobats past. It all felt so wrong to see this; the circus was a family, his family, and they had welcomed him and loved him to a greater degree than he could have ever dreamed of, accepting him as another member of thier unconventional group unconditionally. It couldn't come to an end, it just couldn't.
One of the tigers seperated from the others as one of the stagehands tried to corral them, and padded over to the boy. With a small smile, Harry reached out to let him nuzzle his hand.
"Hey Kato," he murmured, giving him a rub along his striped fur in just the place he knew he liked, "great job out there; thanks for not burping in my face." The tiger didn't reply, naturally, simply enjoying the contact - much like domestic cats. "It's been a good run, buddy. I'll never forget you," his voice cracked slightly as he spoke, remembering the huge beast when he was nought but a cub, and being taught how to raise and care for the big animal - forming a bond. But, the tigers didn't belong to the performers, they belonged to the circus. And so now... "I'll come and visit, Kato, wherever it is they put you. I promise." Harry made the vow as he pressed his face against the orange fur.
A cough to his right sounded after a minute or so, and Harry reluctantly stepped back as Kato was persuaded away with the scent of steak by the waiting stagehand.
"One hell of a day to turn eleven," the boy muttered as he stared after the retreating animal morosely.
"Mr Potter?"
Blinking, Harry turned to view an odd man standing behind him; with a long white beard tied and knotted in several places, and clad in a purple shimmering robe. He fit in quite well, actually, given the company, however he didn't recognise him - and in as close a knit community as theirs, that meant he wasn't one of them.
"I'm sorry mister, but you really shouldn't be back here," the child began, "especially not today; we'd all prefer a bit of privacy, if you know what I mean. End of an era and all that. Besides, the show's still going, and you wouldn't want to miss it; this is your last chance, after all."
"My condolences, my dear boy," the grandfather-like man replied with twinkling eyes, "but I actually came here to talk to you about something special. About Magic."
"The magic's gone, buddy," Harry replied with a shake of his head, "the show's over."
"I've always found that happiness can be found in the darkest of times, if only one remembers to turn on the light."
A/N: And that's all I could do. Really belongs in PBP, but... I think I'd prefer to let this stand alone. Doesn't capture much, but... I think in the great concern over animal rights, and the pursuit of money and everything, some may forget the people, the families that lived on a train moving from city to city for nearly 150 years, the bonds and relationships formed, the history. So, this is my little memorial, small as it is.
I'll see you down the road.