Then light came in…
Harry
walked out from his Divinations class eager to head for dinner. He jokingly
shoved his companion, Ron, into the side of the castle wall, and raced ahead.
He reached a long flight of pale grey stairs the seemed to give a cold welcome.
He
had reached halfway before Ron could even alight the steps. Harry stared ahead
into the empty darkness upon reaching the granite floor. In front of him, he
could see the wooden door that led to the Great Hall, but somehow he could not
open it. Harry's vision blurred, his heart beginning to beat faster. The boy
was the only one who could open these doors…
"Hey,
Harry," Ron waved his hands in front of his friend's eyes. The redhead pushed
open the large, heavy door and walked in.
"You
coming?" Harry returned from his imagination, into reality.
"Uh…er…yeah."
He slid his hand across the smooth wood before letting the door slam closed.
Harry sat expressionless throughout dinner, much to the chagrin of his friends.
He excused himself early, and hurried up to the Gryffindor common room.
Collapsing
onto his four-poster bed, he sighed. Who was this boy? Not anyone he knew, not
anyone at Hogwarts…
A
small rapping came at the far window, tweaking Harry's curiousity. He stuck his
head out the window, brushing his disheveled bangs from his emerald eyes. The
courtyard was empty, sans a tree simply bending to an unseen October breeze.
Shaking
his head and rubbing his tired eyes, Harry balanced his head on the window
sill. He got the sense of being watched, and one again surveyed the outside.
Not seeing a thing, Harry climbed onto the eave that covered the chamber. He still
could see nothing, but felt that much different.
"Hullo!
I know you are here somewhere. Honestly, I promise I won't hurt you." Harry
scanned the top of the eave, but even with his wand lit, he could see no one.
Frustrated,
Harry sunk to his knees, and threw a stray pebble from the roof. He waited
until he heard the small plink of it hitting the dark moat. He sighed
again, but stopped abruptly as he felt a warm hand grasp his shoulder.
Harry
turned slightly, to see a young, innocent girl around the age of eight staring
at him with round, scared eyes. She wore nothing but a simple cloth about her
torso, and her stringy hair fell about her thin shoulders.
" 'Lo
there," he spoke cautiously. The girl's deep eyes grew bigger. Finally she
spoke.
"Ar..are
you Harry Potter," she asked meekly, struggling to pronounce the words. Her
voice was laden with a heavy accent of somewhere unknown to Harry.
"Yeah,
that's me. What can I do for you?" The girl paused for a moment, evidently
thinking of the words.
"Zeph
needs you."