Chapter Three: Moonlight
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.
(Warning to all, this is before the last two chapters and in Harrys prov.)
Moonlight streamed through the windows of one of the upper hallways to Hogwarts Castle, illumination a pale shaking form of a boy perched on the window sill. His nimble hand pressed painfully against the glass. Condensation from the cold forming around his hand, only to drip down the glass and pool against the stone. The tears had long ago dried, leaving a few errant tears to drip, shinning in the moonlight, sparkling like a fallen star, drifting from the sky to land on the desolate child. The fingers began to tremble, then the whole hand, then the shoulders, and soon the hand slipped from the glass altogether, to curl into raven locks as the boy sobbed, rocking back and forth. The fingers twisted into the hair, the scantily covered shoulders caved in on themselves, a whimper of pain was dragged out of his throat, as a few more tears slipped past to tumble off his nose.
Into the forest it was unusually quite. The stars were uninteresting, the thought of food, forgotten. The whole forest had its attention on the weeping boy inside the magically enclosed castle. Trees wept with him, animals curled up like him, and the creatures of the dark, felt the boiling anger run through their veins.
The boys vision swam before him, the glass swinging from focused to not within moments. His muscles clenched and relaxed, and just before he blacked out from the pain tearing its way through his stomach and head, a cry of help slipped from his lips, before he collapsed upon the frozen stone floor.
"Help…"
His unconscious body sprawled across the floor, his clothing covering his frail form like a blanket, was lightened by the light from the window. And in the heavenly light his small lighten bolt of a scar that graced his forehead glowed silver.
Bloodbloodbloodbloodbloodbloodbloodblood
Warmth drenched his skin, flowing over him, creating a pleasant sensation to tingle his nerves, and a small smile graced the boy's lips.
His finger twitched, bringing the feel of fabric on the tip of his finger, and that awareness spread over him as well, to draw the conclusion of being in a bed. Eyes still closed the urge to open them because great and with a hesitant crack of one eye lid he peeked out of his world of darkness.
Only to squeezed his eyes shut and curl away from the blinding light, moaning with pain.
The sun was out.
"ughhhhh…."
He moaned, burying his face into his starched pillow, feeling the scratchy fabric run again his sensitive skin.
" ughhhhh…."
He curled his legs up to, and covered his head with his arms,
" I hate mornings…"
He was about to drift back into sleep when from his immediate left, a voice he'd heard a million times over in this exact situation, made him jump.
"I hope that you realize that you had an incredibly large chance of never hating mornings ever again Mr. Potter and you learn from your foolishness."
His fingers tightened in the pillow case, and he peeked his head out,
"what you on about Madam Pomfrey?" he croaked out, one eye closed while the other finding it hard to focus on anything, or seeing past the blinding light.
"We found you collapsed in a rarely used hallway this morning, non-responsive, and-" She cut off, glancing away to straighten an errant crease from his bed spread. "Well let's just say you gave us all quite a scare, Mr. Potter."
His other eye took the dive and cracked open, and with a wince of pain, finally both were open seeing and watering.
"gods…"
he hissed, whipping his eyes with the back of his hand as he pushed himself up into a sitting position,
" what the hells up with the light this morning?"
Pomfrey pulled a face and instantly was leaning over him, looking at his eyes,
"Do they hurt? How much can you see? How many fingers am I holding up?"
She said in a rush waving three fingers in front of his face.
He pushed her away, and shot her a glare,
"It's not me, it's the light! It's so damn bright I'm getting a headache already! And I can't see anything!"
Yet again Pomfrey pulled a quizzical look,
"I though you were groggy before, but…." She pressed a hand to his forehead, "You don't seem to have any kind of fever…."
She tilted his head up by his chin and stared into his eyes.
With a sigh she let go and stood up from her leaning over position. Harry's hands snapped back to his face, covering his eyes from the dreadful light.
"Come on madam Pomfrey, just close the blinds or something…"
he groaned, not liking how she was being so silly.
"Mr. Potter, it's nine at night, and I don't think closing the blinds will help in this matter."
She said in a stern voice, her footsteps clicking away as she left his bedside in a rush.
He waited a moment, his hands still over his eyes,
"… … … madam Pomfrey? ... … you there?"
Still seconds ticked by and with an angry flourish he tore his hands away from his eyes, to glare around the room, ready with a burst of insults at being left alone in an incredibly confusing moment.
That's when he saw where the light was coming from.
Him.
It started from the center of his chest, as a bright shining light, that faded out as it went. It reached to his abdomen where the light faded back into the normal light of the hospital wing. Not only did this light glow, it pulsed. With each and every heart beat, the golden glow growing brighter then duller with each thump. When he had woken up he had felt a tingle on his skin, thinking it was the sun light he had pushed the though away, but now, looking at his hands and arms, he knew it was not just the sunlight.
It was him.
His skin let off a light gold. Resonating with the light, he felt like a holy being, all the light and power that he felt radiating from one spot, his heart. His skin tingled, like a million tiny rain drops were landing on it, making pleasant shivers run down his spin.
"what…. the fuck?"
Bloodbloodbloodbloodbloodbloodblood
Just so you all know, I do chapter by chapter with only one character. Oh and R&R!