A/N: Hola, ¿que pasa? It's me again, updating ever so dutifully. I hope
this isn't too short cuz I don't have too much time. Oh, yes, and if you
want to read some deranged (but I hope u like!) poetry check out my
collection, Me123!!! Anywhatsits, this delves deeper into the Harry seeing
little people issue, lol, so read, read, and REVIEW…
Disclaimer: I own the plot of this lovely tale. I own little ghost Harry, cutie Jason, and the bee-yooootiful Wally Dursley. Jk has the rest. Who's got the better end? I'm thinkin me…
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"Harry…?"
Harry's head snapped around. Ron was looking at him like he was crazy. "Oh good," Harry breathed a sigh of relief, "it's you."
"It's good to see I'm so appreciated," Ron replied sarcastically, setting his shopping bag down and residing on the bench with Harry, "but whom were you expecting?"
"I… I don't know," Harry frowned.
"You're so pale, it's like you saw a ghost!" Ron exclaimed; of course, in Hogwarts that was all too possible with Nearly-Headless Nick, the Bloody Baron, Peeves, and the other house ghosts randomly floating and drifting around.
"I… may… have…" Harry said slowly, focusing on one unparticular spot on the tiled floor and staring off spacily. He was snapped out of it as a strong hand gripped his arm and yanked. "Alright, Ron!" Harry snapped, slightly annoyed at his friend. "We can go now."
"Aw, gee, thanks," Ron said bitterly and they swiftly exited the mall.
The air outside had the same chill that they had earlier experienced and it nipped at Ron's cheeks as they strode against it in the direction of Wally Dursley's humble home. A thought he had tried to push away rose afresh in his mind, causing him to shudder. Hogwarts was over. Was it really? Did he really have nothing to go to next year? No, he told himself, that was impossible. Next year he was going back to Hogwarts, just like always. But it was getting harder to pretend.
The future was an illusion to Ron; he liked to think that he could always go to blissful haven of Hogwarts, and so he told himself that, but… But in the back of his mind was the truth: the happiest years of his life were over.
Upon approaching Wally's home, they skipped every other step and burst in. "Honey, we're home," Ron called in a mocking tone, pretending to hang up an invisible coat on an imaginary coat rack. Harry smirked and they went into the kitchen.
The world froze. Harry was staring at the boy he had just seen, with the long disheveled black hair and cat-like green eyes. And the scar. The boy gazed at Harry, right in the eyes, so fiercely that Harry felt something inside of him sting. His heart.
Harry stumbled backward, knocking over a chair but not noticing. His face had frozen over, not in fear, but awe of this small being who could unsettle him such. "Who… you're… me…?" Harry managed to make out. "I mean, you are, aren't you."
"Yes," said the boy softly, not in the obstreperous tone in which he had thrown at Harry before, "but you do not know me anymore."
"What do you mean?" Harry cried. "I know me; you're me; I know you!"
"I am you," the boy said, once again very gently. His eyes looked terribly doleful. He was so sad and depressed looking. "But I'm not."
"I don't understand…" Harry whispered. And he blinked.
"Harry! HARRY!" Harry turned around. Ron was looking at him like he had five noses, six hears, and one eye. "Come in, HARRY!"
"Huh? Don't you see him?" Harry asked, bewildered. "He is…" Harry turned back to where the little boy had been standing. The boy stood there no more. "…right there."
"You're crazy!" Ron exclaimed, setting his shopping back on the table. He started going through his new clothes like everything was ordinary. A hand clamped down on his arm and Ron looked up to meet Harry's all too serious eyes.
"Ron," Harry said soberly, "there is a little boy that I've seen twice today. He was me, only very little. He seems angry, then sad. I…" Harry felt his words choke up in his throat. "…I don't know why. I don't know what's going on."
Ron sensed the urgency in Harry's voice and sat him down. "Harry, it's okay," he calmed, folding his hands neatly on the table. "It's true that some Muggles claim to see ghosts of their relatives or friends that died and—"
"But I'm not dead!" Harry screeched suddenly, popping up from his chair. His voice was rising in a frantic manner.
"And why would you be?" The two boys were interrupted by an innocent female voice. Hermione had entered the kitchen, wearing her cotton blue sundress. She sensed something awry when neither one of them spoke. "Um, are you guys okay?"
"Sure, sure," Ron waved her off when Harry remained silent, "we're just talking."
"About…?" Hermione's eyebrow arched.
"Uh, guy stuff," Harry chimed in. "Yeah, and seeing that you're, uh, not a guy, then you can't, um, talk about it… cuz it's guy stuff… for guys! Yeah, that's it!"
Hermione laughed at how foolish and inventing he sounded, but tossed it aside, not really caring about their "guy stuff" as Harry called it. "Okay," she chuckled, "but have you seen Ginny? Cho says she went for a walk with a really hot guy."
Ron turned bright red. "She WHAT?" he erupted. Storming down the hallway, he grabbed his imaginary coat before slamming the door behind him.
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A/N: Hey to all my lovely and wonderful reviewers! U guys kick! Thanks sooooooo much, here's to:
Mwarren, Slytherin Mud blood, Ira Poon, little trumpeter, sassinak, mmm Remus, Mione G, kristina, The Ace of Wands, Elle B, sn0bunny, and Goldenberry.
And for those of u w/ questions and comments:
Slytherin Mudblood—WHATS AN OC???
Little trumpeter—I must agree…. Ty…
Sn0bunny—sry, I fixed—jason!
Goldenberry—ty, but I do imagine they read mags in the wizarding world, I don't see a prob w/ Hermione picking up a mag that might be similar to one she has at home. And Harry had to get clothes, y not pick up adidas? I can't find a Latin dictionary online, so I'm just gonna keep it that way unless u can find one. Thanku for the suggestions!!
Disclaimer: I own the plot of this lovely tale. I own little ghost Harry, cutie Jason, and the bee-yooootiful Wally Dursley. Jk has the rest. Who's got the better end? I'm thinkin me…
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
"Harry…?"
Harry's head snapped around. Ron was looking at him like he was crazy. "Oh good," Harry breathed a sigh of relief, "it's you."
"It's good to see I'm so appreciated," Ron replied sarcastically, setting his shopping bag down and residing on the bench with Harry, "but whom were you expecting?"
"I… I don't know," Harry frowned.
"You're so pale, it's like you saw a ghost!" Ron exclaimed; of course, in Hogwarts that was all too possible with Nearly-Headless Nick, the Bloody Baron, Peeves, and the other house ghosts randomly floating and drifting around.
"I… may… have…" Harry said slowly, focusing on one unparticular spot on the tiled floor and staring off spacily. He was snapped out of it as a strong hand gripped his arm and yanked. "Alright, Ron!" Harry snapped, slightly annoyed at his friend. "We can go now."
"Aw, gee, thanks," Ron said bitterly and they swiftly exited the mall.
The air outside had the same chill that they had earlier experienced and it nipped at Ron's cheeks as they strode against it in the direction of Wally Dursley's humble home. A thought he had tried to push away rose afresh in his mind, causing him to shudder. Hogwarts was over. Was it really? Did he really have nothing to go to next year? No, he told himself, that was impossible. Next year he was going back to Hogwarts, just like always. But it was getting harder to pretend.
The future was an illusion to Ron; he liked to think that he could always go to blissful haven of Hogwarts, and so he told himself that, but… But in the back of his mind was the truth: the happiest years of his life were over.
Upon approaching Wally's home, they skipped every other step and burst in. "Honey, we're home," Ron called in a mocking tone, pretending to hang up an invisible coat on an imaginary coat rack. Harry smirked and they went into the kitchen.
The world froze. Harry was staring at the boy he had just seen, with the long disheveled black hair and cat-like green eyes. And the scar. The boy gazed at Harry, right in the eyes, so fiercely that Harry felt something inside of him sting. His heart.
Harry stumbled backward, knocking over a chair but not noticing. His face had frozen over, not in fear, but awe of this small being who could unsettle him such. "Who… you're… me…?" Harry managed to make out. "I mean, you are, aren't you."
"Yes," said the boy softly, not in the obstreperous tone in which he had thrown at Harry before, "but you do not know me anymore."
"What do you mean?" Harry cried. "I know me; you're me; I know you!"
"I am you," the boy said, once again very gently. His eyes looked terribly doleful. He was so sad and depressed looking. "But I'm not."
"I don't understand…" Harry whispered. And he blinked.
"Harry! HARRY!" Harry turned around. Ron was looking at him like he had five noses, six hears, and one eye. "Come in, HARRY!"
"Huh? Don't you see him?" Harry asked, bewildered. "He is…" Harry turned back to where the little boy had been standing. The boy stood there no more. "…right there."
"You're crazy!" Ron exclaimed, setting his shopping back on the table. He started going through his new clothes like everything was ordinary. A hand clamped down on his arm and Ron looked up to meet Harry's all too serious eyes.
"Ron," Harry said soberly, "there is a little boy that I've seen twice today. He was me, only very little. He seems angry, then sad. I…" Harry felt his words choke up in his throat. "…I don't know why. I don't know what's going on."
Ron sensed the urgency in Harry's voice and sat him down. "Harry, it's okay," he calmed, folding his hands neatly on the table. "It's true that some Muggles claim to see ghosts of their relatives or friends that died and—"
"But I'm not dead!" Harry screeched suddenly, popping up from his chair. His voice was rising in a frantic manner.
"And why would you be?" The two boys were interrupted by an innocent female voice. Hermione had entered the kitchen, wearing her cotton blue sundress. She sensed something awry when neither one of them spoke. "Um, are you guys okay?"
"Sure, sure," Ron waved her off when Harry remained silent, "we're just talking."
"About…?" Hermione's eyebrow arched.
"Uh, guy stuff," Harry chimed in. "Yeah, and seeing that you're, uh, not a guy, then you can't, um, talk about it… cuz it's guy stuff… for guys! Yeah, that's it!"
Hermione laughed at how foolish and inventing he sounded, but tossed it aside, not really caring about their "guy stuff" as Harry called it. "Okay," she chuckled, "but have you seen Ginny? Cho says she went for a walk with a really hot guy."
Ron turned bright red. "She WHAT?" he erupted. Storming down the hallway, he grabbed his imaginary coat before slamming the door behind him.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
A/N: Hey to all my lovely and wonderful reviewers! U guys kick! Thanks sooooooo much, here's to:
Mwarren, Slytherin Mud blood, Ira Poon, little trumpeter, sassinak, mmm Remus, Mione G, kristina, The Ace of Wands, Elle B, sn0bunny, and Goldenberry.
And for those of u w/ questions and comments:
Slytherin Mudblood—WHATS AN OC???
Little trumpeter—I must agree…. Ty…
Sn0bunny—sry, I fixed—jason!
Goldenberry—ty, but I do imagine they read mags in the wizarding world, I don't see a prob w/ Hermione picking up a mag that might be similar to one she has at home. And Harry had to get clothes, y not pick up adidas? I can't find a Latin dictionary online, so I'm just gonna keep it that way unless u can find one. Thanku for the suggestions!!