Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. Neither are his various friends and enemies.
It is raining hard, the droplets coming down almost sideways and the thunder rolling loudly every few moments, when he hears someone at the door. At first he thinks it is just another thunderclap, but whoever it is, they're persistent, and the knocks continue much longer than the thunder does.
He gets up from his sad dinner of leftover takeout and tries not to scurry over to the door - always aware of appearances, even when alone in his own flat.
The knocking is getting more insistent, and he wonders vaguely who it could be at this hour, in this weather. His flat isn't convenient to any roads, and whenever he has visitors (admittedly very rarely) they come through the floo. But this person, whoever they are, had to have hiked up the hill, which most sane people go out of their way to avoid.
Finally making it to the entryway, he suddenly stops, wondering if it is such a good idea in the present political climate to open the door when he should probably be running the other direction. But something tells him that whoever it is, they are no Death Eater, or he probably would've been dead by now. Summoning some of the Gryffindor courage he was never really sure he had, he opens the door.
He wasn't expecting to find Penelope Clearwater.
He had seen her last more than two years ago, when she had broken it off with him, telling him that his ego was growing too quickly for her to handle. He'd been devastated at the time, and understandably a bit angry, but in hindsight he could see that she had been one hundred percent right. In the past few months, especially, the person that he had been - cocky, eager to please, and ambitious - was growing sharper in his mind's eye. It isn't a picture he is particularly proud of.
But here she is - the ex-girlfriend that he thinks he might still be the littlest bit in love with - standing sopping wet in the torrential downpour, her curly hair matted to her head and her eyes bright with desperation. Without stopping to think of the Ministry pamphlets from last year that detail what to do in emergency situations (because surely this isn't an emergency situation?), he pulls her into his impeccably clean flat, peers out into the tempest behind her for anyone watching, and closes the door behind her.
AN: Prologue – 410 words
Total – 410 words
Well, I said in my profile that I wasn't going to post this for a while, but I really want to gauge interest. I'm going to write it anyway, but I really like this chapter for some reason, so it's going up much earlier than the rest of the story. Don't look for chapter two anytime particularly soon, because I want to get at
least halfway through the story before I start posting the rest of it, otherwise I'll never finish. But here is the prologue to I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings!