So, here it finally is. Chapter two. I haven't gotten any reviews yet, which is a disappointment, but I wasn't really expecting anything. I have had someone follow and favorite, so a big thanks to them. I meant to post this earlier, but I had other things I had to do. Then I tried to, but I couldn't figure out how. So, now I finally am doing it, and I hope you like it. Whew, this is a long chapter.
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and never will be, so none of this except for Ella belongs to me.
"I'm done with the weeding Aunt Pe-" Harry's voice was cut off with a high-pitched shriek. "LOOK AT HOW
MUDDY YOU'VE MADE THE FLOORS, YOU FREAK! I'VE JUST FINISHED MOPPING AND YOU- YOU-!" Aunt
Petunia's outraged cries were cut off by Uncle Vernon reassuring her. "It's alright, Petunia, I'll make him
clean it up. What I wouldn't give to have gotten rid of YOU when we'd found you on the doorstep..." he
trailed off menacingly, starting over to where Harry stood, motionless. "I-I'm sorry Aunt Petunia I'll be
sure to clean it up- I forgot-" he began, but Uncle Vernon grabbed him by the back of the shirt. "That's.
Bloody. RIGHT. You. Will. And you'll be cleaning every other square inch of this house too while you're at
it!" and so he did. All through the time he was working, he wondered where his friends were and
what they would be doing now... Up until the sun was down and Dudley finally
got home from terrorizing neighborhood kids at around one A.M. He completely
ignored Harry as the smaller boy scrubbed the kitchen floor vigorously. Harry was fine
with that, but he wasn't really paying attention anyhow. He couldn't be bothered with
Dudley if the larger boy was leaving him alone. Finally, Uncle Vernon came in to tell
him, "Go to your room, you'll finish tomorrow. If not you'll be keeping us up all night."
Harry nodded, getting up to leave. he trudged up the staircase and into his storage
closet of a bedroom and closing the door behind him. As he was prying up the
floorboard where his school books were hidden to get to his book 'Quidditch Through
The Ages', a tapping noise came from the window. His snowy owl, Hedwig, was sitting
on the windowsill, a letter tied to her leg. "Thanks Hedwig." he told her, opening the
window. She hopped in, holding out the letter for Harry to take, then settled on his
shoulder, nipping his ear affectionately. Harry absent mindedly stroked her chest
feathers, opening the piece of parchment, which was apparently from Hermione.
'Hi Harry,
My parents and are just about to leave for our vacation in america. I was about to
borrow Pigwidgeon to send you a letter, (Ron sent me a letter, and he was still here)
but then Hedwig showed up. She seemed to know that I wanted to send one to you.
How are you Harry? Are the muggles treating you well? I wish I didn't have to talk
through only letters. When you get this letter, please owl me back soon. Sorry, but
'soon' has to be after the Tuesday after next, since that's when we'll be coming back-
-suddenly, Harry's reading of the letter was cut off by a sudden clap of thunder. He
jumped, and noticed that his alarm clock now read 1:30. Harry yawned, placing the
letter on his desk. Without changing out of his clothes, he flopped onto his bed and
dozed off to sleep.
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The next morning, Harry woke up blearily to the sound of his uncle bellowing "We're
going out, Potter! We'll be back around noon!" up the stairs. Harry stuck his head out
the door and yelled "Okay Uncle Vernon!" before closing the door and flopping onto
his bed with a groan. He tried to go back to sleep, but after a while found that it was
futile. With a sigh, he got up and stumped down the stairs to the kitchen. After that, he
ate breakfast and left the house to walk down the street to a bench where he sometimes
sat to think, looking out over a small lake. The air was oddly chilly for summer, and a
cold breeze blew through his worn t-shirt and jeans. Harry shivered, turning back to go
and get a jacket. When he stepped back inside, he searched for his baggy gray hoodie,
finally finding it tossed haphazardly behind the sofa. Harry slipped it on over his
clothes, again leaving to go to his spot by the lake. The neighbors were all inside today,
discouraged by the chilly air. The lake's surface was rippling a great deal due to the
wind, reminding Harry of the Black Lake at Hogwarts. He smiled slightly to himself,
not paying attention to where he was walking. Suddenly, he found himself falling
through the air, landing ungracefully on his chest, once again having the wind knocked
out of him completely. "A-are you okay?" a very quiet, shy-sounding voice asked. Harry
saw a pair of hands holding out a blurry object to him, and he realised that they were
his glasses. "Oh, um, thanks." he mumbled, placing them back on his face. The thing
that he had tripped on turned out to be a medium-sized rock jutting up out of the
ground. He looked up to where the person that had helped him was now standing,
feeling his face grow extremely red in embarrassment. It was a girl of about his age who
had her eyes trained on the ground. From the looks of her, she was probably homeless;
her jeans were frayed and grubby, her sweater was much too large, hole-ridden and
dirty, and she looked as though she hadn't showered in a while. Nonetheless,
Harry could tell that underneath her messy hair drawn into a tangled bun and dirty face,
she was actually rather pretty. "Um... s-sorry, was this bench yours? Er, no o-of course
it's not yours but, d-id you...? Um. Oh dear..." she stammered. Blinking rapidly at the
ground. Her arms were crossed across her chest, trying to hold in any warmth that she
could. Harry shook his head. "No, it's okay. You can have it." he said. Something about
her eyes caught his attention. He peered at her face, and for one second, her eyes met
his. She blushed profusely, looking away. "Hey..." Harry began slowly. The girl looked
startled that he was speaking to her. "Do I know you?" he asked slowly. "Er- um- n-no
not technically... I-I mean no, no you don't know me." she stammered. Also something
about her voice caught his attention. She sounded like she had an american accent, with
only slight undertones of british. "Wait, this is going to sound crazy, but... were you in a
shrub yesterday?" he asked. The poor girl looked like she would have a heart attack.
"W-what? Oh, um, yes?" she said tentatively, as though asking a question. "Were you
watching me?" Harry asked incredulously, now doubting to doubt this girl's sanity.
"Yes! But I have a good reason! I-you-you're my last hope. I-I've been looking
everywhere for someone- anyone! That could help me and-and I found you..." she
trailed off and said something that Harry didn't catch. "Wh-what?!" he asked, wondering
wether he should try to help her or back away slowly. "I'm not crazy!" she exclaimed. "I
know you're a wizard! I-I-" suddenly, their eyes met again and she was still. "You're
Harry Potter?" she asked. "Calm down." Harry said gently, his head whirling. "Yes, I'm
Harry Potter, now why do you need my help?" the girl calmed down and sighed. "Can I
just... start over?" she asked quietly. Harry nodded. "Hi, um... Oh, dear... I used to live
with my mother, who, er, passed away five months ago, and she told me that I needed
to find Albus Dumbledore, and that I would need to let him know that she was... gone.
And I honestly tried until... there was a storm, and the portkey that my mother had
made was destroyed. I ran off after that, because, there's... no one to take care of me."
Harry was listening to the girl's story carefully and saw the pain disguised behind her
eyes whenever she spoke of her mother. "Well, I've been trying to find someone,
anyone, who was magic that could tell Dumbledore where I was so that... so that he
could come and get me, that he needed to protect me." Harry stopped her. "Wait, why
do you need protection? And why didn't you just owl someone?" the strange girl
blushed. "Well. It's... not exactly something I'm supposed to tell anyone except for
Dumbledore..." Harry nodded. "Oh, yeah, sorry." the girl continued. "I-I need you to
send a letter to Dumbledore. Can you tell him that... that Clarissa has passed away and
her daughter needs help. He'll know what I mean." Harry thought about this for a
moment. "Please, this is much more important than you know." and when he looked
into her dark green, almond-shaped eyes, he could definitely say that there was
something... different about her. Something not quite human. "Alright." Harry said, and
a look of relief spread across her features. "On one condition." she froze. "You tell me
your name." she smiled, which completely transformed her face. "Lorelei. But please,
please just call me Ella. Now please, it really is urgent that you owl
Dumbledore." Harry nodded, seeing the seriousness in her eyes. They jogged back to
#4, sighing with relief as the warm air hit them. "Here, you can wait on the couch."
Harry said quickly, running up the stairs to get Hedwig and some parchment from his
bedroom. When he got back down, he saw that Ella had taken off the moth-eaten
sweater and was wearing a rather dirty-looking, but otherwise fine blue long sleeved
shirt. Through the thin fabric, he could see that she was very thin, and her ribs were
seeable from beneath her skin. Hedwig looked up suspiciously at the sight of the
strange girl, tipping her head to the side quizzically. "This is Hedwig." Harry said
gesturing to his white-plumed owl. "She's very pretty. Even for a snowy." Ella said, and
Hedwig seemed pleased with the compliment. Harry picked up a book and placed it on
his lap, pulling out parchment to compose the letter on. As he began hesitantly, he
remembered all of those delicate objects laying on the floor in his office, and the
reaction he'd had to what Dumbledore had said...
'Dear Professor Dumbledore;
This afternoon, I met a strange girl by the lake near #4, Privet Dr. she knows about
magic, and she asked me to write a letter to you for her. She told me that it's urgent.
Her name is Lorelei, and she said to tell you 'Clarissa has passed away, and her
daughter needs help'. Also, she said that you'd know what that meant. I have no idea
who Clarissa or this girl are, but she seems to honestly need your help. If I'm wrong,
you can just disregard this letter, but I don't think I am. Please respond to this letter,
even if I'm wrong, I'm rather confused about what she's said.
Sincerely, Harry Potter'
After he finished writing it, Harry hesitated for a moment before slowly tying it to
Hedwig's leg. "Hedwig, this is a really important letter. Do you think you could get this
to professor Dumbledore as soon as you can?" Hedwig hooted gently in assent and
hopped off of his shoulder. Harry opened the window over the Dursley's kitchen sink,
watching Hedwig disappear on the horizon. "How soon do you think he'll respond?"
Ella asked anxiously, wringing her hands. "Maybe tomorrow morning. Hey... where are
you living?" Harry asked her, watching a dark look pass over her face. "Anywhere I
can." she said quietly her eyes trained on the ground. "Oh..." Harry answered, feeling
sorry that he'd asked. "I usually stay in abandoned houses, homeless shelters,
occasionally an alleyway if I can't find anywhere else..." a look of sadness and fear
came across her features at the mention of said alleys, and Harry got the feeling that
they weren't exactly the best place to spend the night. "Hey, maybe you could stay in
the basement until... whenever Dumbledore decides what to do. The muggles don't
ever go down there, they always tell me to go do the laundry and get stuff out of boxes.
It's rather cold, but I could get you some blankets if you'd like." Ella looked immensely
happy, and smiled widely again. "Oh, thanks so much. Um... c-can I call you Harry?"
she asked shyly. "Of course you can." he said shaking his head slightly and smiling.
Even though she was painfully shy and he at first thought her insane, he felt like he
might like her after getting to know her. She seemed genuinely kind and sweet. Harry
helped Ella set up a place in the basement behind a wall of boxes, giving her a thick
quilt and a flashlight with batteries. "Thank you... Harry." she said quietly, smiling.
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When the Dursley's got back from their trip that afternoon, Harry made them lunch and
dinner as usual, bringing Ella some of it as well when they weren't paying attention. He
gathered up the clothes to put them in the wash, carrying the heavy basket down the
stairs into the basement. As he walked down the last few steps, he heard a quiet, gentle
sound. "...Au clair de la lune, Mon ami Pierrot. Prête-moi ta plume, Pour écrire un
mot..." it sounded as though someone was singing softly in a sweet, lovely voice. 'Is
that Ella?' Harry wondered, feeling as though he was interrupting something. "Ma
chandelle est morte, Je n'ai plus de feu. Ouvre-moi ta porte, Pour l'amour de Dieu..."
Harry walked down quietly, seeing a faint silvery light coming from behind the boxes.
He walked around, seeing Ella facing away from him. The light was coming from
strange, silver sparks in the palms of her cupped hands, threading around each other to
form tiny figures that seemed to dance across her fingers and over her hands. The light
glimmered in her strange, inhuman, yet beautiful green eyes. Harry cleared his throat,
and immediately, the light disappeared and he was left in darkness. He flipped on the
light, seeing Ella sitting and reading the book he had lended her. "Um... Ella?" she
looked up, as though he had startled her, but he could see that she was faking it. "Oh, hi
Harry. Did you come down to do the laundry?" she asked, as though what had just
happened never did. "Er, yeah, I did." Harry said uncertainly. They talked while he put
the clothes in the wash and waited to put them in the dryer. Harry tried to ask her about
what he'd seen, but she evaded his question. That night, his dreams were filled with
silvery figures and people with bright, foreign green eyes. And it wasn't until later that
he noticed that where her hand had brushed by his, there was an odd, silvery substance
on his skin.
Reviews anyone? Questions? Comments? Thanks for reading it, anyway.