Chapter 2
Hello?
Harry smiled at Dudley's nervousness. His girlfriend from his school was arriving for a visit. Girlfriend! Ha! That's hard to believe but as the doorbell rang and Dudley mopped the sweat off his brow. Harry hurried up to his own room before he laughed out loud.
His aunt was running around making sure that everything was perfect for Mary Frances and her cousin who arrived over from Canada. Harry felt bad for the cousin getting roped in, but on the other hand she could have wanted to come which he'd have to say that she thick in the head.
Picking up his quill, he decided to write to Hermione about this. Ron knew for he wrote him yesterday and was waiting for a reply. After penning a quick note he went to Hedwig's cage. "Ready for another flight?" The snow- white owl nipped his finger favorably, then down hard. "Okay, okay. You're getting moody girl. Besides, I'd better wait until night. You know the Dursely's."
Not having anything better to do --- except maybe his homework for over the summer vacation that he had almost finished, the black hair boy with the lightening scar began to polish his Firebolt. A Quidditch broomstick that Harry was convinced was the best game ever. He was the seeker of his team at school. Glancing at his calendar, another two weeks and a half left. Signing he took out the cleaning kit and began to polish the wooden handle waiting until 6:30 when Mary Frances would be gone and he could go visit the Weasley's.
~*~
Meg was bored out of her mind. She thought about toying with Dudley, say something that would shock Mary Frances but decided against it. She though she sense someone else in the house, someone with extraordinary powers. Some like her? Could be possible?
"Excuse me," Meg said as she stood up. "Could you tell me where the bathroom is?"
After following some snobbish direction she turned up the stairs but instead of turning to the bathroom she continued down the hall. Thoughts and feelings flooded her. A doting mother. A loving father. Always trying to please their son. Always trying to hide something. A spoiled child, a child that has nothing? Not wanting to be nosey she built up her wall. Blocking out the memories and feels she tried not to touch anything. Turning to the last door at the end of the hall she began to knock. A voice came from behind on the door.
"Come in."
Meg placed her hand on the knob and turned. The full force of opening the door of feelings and memories caught her off guard. Swaying she began to crumple unto the floor.
Harry had only seconds to scramble up and catch the angel from falling. She was slender and weighted nothing as he laid her on his bed. Her hair was a golden brown that curled around her face. Her eyelids were closed but he envisioned them a brilliant blue. Her high cheekbones were slightly flushed and her lips were as pink as rose petals. Was this Mary Frances? Or rather her cousin? She was breathing deeply as if asleep. Tearing his eyes away he began to put anything away that resembled that he was in fact a wizard.
What had happened to cause her faint? What exactly had Dudley been telling him? Or better yet was it his scar. If she recognized his scar that means that she too was a wizard. The idea pleased him, another wizard to kill time before the Weasleys came for him. Suddenly her eyes widen up as she bolt up. Her eyes were a misty gray for tears had formed in her eyes. On smooth skin, sheen of sweat glistens. Her eyes bore into his. "You're not like me at all. You're a wizard. A real life wizard!"
Harry stared at the girl. What did she mean, not like her? She's not a wizard.
"No, I'm not a wizard." She answered then blushed for reading his thoughts. "At least I don't think so." She slid off the neat bed and went to the window. "I'm sorry for zoning off like I did. I only get like that when I feel extreme emotions." She turned to the owl, "Hello Hedwig. You're going to have a busy night."
Harry strode over to the cage. "How do you know that?"
Hedwig hooted pleasantly at the girl. And hopped unto her finger. Meg absently stroked the soft feathers. "Umm . . . so soft." Keeping her head down she continued to stroke Hedwig. Why did he have to stand so close to her? A girl could get lost in those eyes, brilliant green like cats. He seemed so tall next to her. Her head could probably brush his nose. "I usually don't tell strangers about me, nor do I usually witnesses their memories."
Harry froze. "You saw my memories?"
Meg nodded and put the owl back in her cage. "Selectively, and you don't even know my name." She turned back and tilted her head up, "Please sit."
"I rather stand." He voice was flat.
Meg sighed. "Then I will," and she perched on his bed as if she could fly away. "I saw it all. From now to . . . " she trailed off. "Only bits and pieces, highly emotional experiences that you were trying to suppress." She curled her feet under herself, and pushed a strand out of her eyes. "I have control of my gift. I don't pry into people's lives or mind's but damn! Sometimes things like this break my dome."
"Dome?" Harry asked losing his annoyance for this girl.
"Yeah, like in those snowflake globes, the ones you shake. I block everyone's feelings out by placing a dome around myself, where I can emerge myself in the water where all those feelings are scrambled and never reach me. I never had a reading this whole summer until now. I'm sorry Harry."
"It's not your fault. I think my magic is a gift and to you it's a curse." Her gray eyes bore into him, full of compassion.
"You love being what you are. What exactly is a wizard like? Can you snap your fingers and boom! Your room's clean or . . ." A bang from downstairs followed by Mary Frances screech.
Harry smiled at Dudley's nervousness. His girlfriend from his school was arriving for a visit. Girlfriend! Ha! That's hard to believe but as the doorbell rang and Dudley mopped the sweat off his brow. Harry hurried up to his own room before he laughed out loud.
His aunt was running around making sure that everything was perfect for Mary Frances and her cousin who arrived over from Canada. Harry felt bad for the cousin getting roped in, but on the other hand she could have wanted to come which he'd have to say that she thick in the head.
Picking up his quill, he decided to write to Hermione about this. Ron knew for he wrote him yesterday and was waiting for a reply. After penning a quick note he went to Hedwig's cage. "Ready for another flight?" The snow- white owl nipped his finger favorably, then down hard. "Okay, okay. You're getting moody girl. Besides, I'd better wait until night. You know the Dursely's."
Not having anything better to do --- except maybe his homework for over the summer vacation that he had almost finished, the black hair boy with the lightening scar began to polish his Firebolt. A Quidditch broomstick that Harry was convinced was the best game ever. He was the seeker of his team at school. Glancing at his calendar, another two weeks and a half left. Signing he took out the cleaning kit and began to polish the wooden handle waiting until 6:30 when Mary Frances would be gone and he could go visit the Weasley's.
~*~
Meg was bored out of her mind. She thought about toying with Dudley, say something that would shock Mary Frances but decided against it. She though she sense someone else in the house, someone with extraordinary powers. Some like her? Could be possible?
"Excuse me," Meg said as she stood up. "Could you tell me where the bathroom is?"
After following some snobbish direction she turned up the stairs but instead of turning to the bathroom she continued down the hall. Thoughts and feelings flooded her. A doting mother. A loving father. Always trying to please their son. Always trying to hide something. A spoiled child, a child that has nothing? Not wanting to be nosey she built up her wall. Blocking out the memories and feels she tried not to touch anything. Turning to the last door at the end of the hall she began to knock. A voice came from behind on the door.
"Come in."
Meg placed her hand on the knob and turned. The full force of opening the door of feelings and memories caught her off guard. Swaying she began to crumple unto the floor.
Harry had only seconds to scramble up and catch the angel from falling. She was slender and weighted nothing as he laid her on his bed. Her hair was a golden brown that curled around her face. Her eyelids were closed but he envisioned them a brilliant blue. Her high cheekbones were slightly flushed and her lips were as pink as rose petals. Was this Mary Frances? Or rather her cousin? She was breathing deeply as if asleep. Tearing his eyes away he began to put anything away that resembled that he was in fact a wizard.
What had happened to cause her faint? What exactly had Dudley been telling him? Or better yet was it his scar. If she recognized his scar that means that she too was a wizard. The idea pleased him, another wizard to kill time before the Weasleys came for him. Suddenly her eyes widen up as she bolt up. Her eyes were a misty gray for tears had formed in her eyes. On smooth skin, sheen of sweat glistens. Her eyes bore into his. "You're not like me at all. You're a wizard. A real life wizard!"
Harry stared at the girl. What did she mean, not like her? She's not a wizard.
"No, I'm not a wizard." She answered then blushed for reading his thoughts. "At least I don't think so." She slid off the neat bed and went to the window. "I'm sorry for zoning off like I did. I only get like that when I feel extreme emotions." She turned to the owl, "Hello Hedwig. You're going to have a busy night."
Harry strode over to the cage. "How do you know that?"
Hedwig hooted pleasantly at the girl. And hopped unto her finger. Meg absently stroked the soft feathers. "Umm . . . so soft." Keeping her head down she continued to stroke Hedwig. Why did he have to stand so close to her? A girl could get lost in those eyes, brilliant green like cats. He seemed so tall next to her. Her head could probably brush his nose. "I usually don't tell strangers about me, nor do I usually witnesses their memories."
Harry froze. "You saw my memories?"
Meg nodded and put the owl back in her cage. "Selectively, and you don't even know my name." She turned back and tilted her head up, "Please sit."
"I rather stand." He voice was flat.
Meg sighed. "Then I will," and she perched on his bed as if she could fly away. "I saw it all. From now to . . . " she trailed off. "Only bits and pieces, highly emotional experiences that you were trying to suppress." She curled her feet under herself, and pushed a strand out of her eyes. "I have control of my gift. I don't pry into people's lives or mind's but damn! Sometimes things like this break my dome."
"Dome?" Harry asked losing his annoyance for this girl.
"Yeah, like in those snowflake globes, the ones you shake. I block everyone's feelings out by placing a dome around myself, where I can emerge myself in the water where all those feelings are scrambled and never reach me. I never had a reading this whole summer until now. I'm sorry Harry."
"It's not your fault. I think my magic is a gift and to you it's a curse." Her gray eyes bore into him, full of compassion.
"You love being what you are. What exactly is a wizard like? Can you snap your fingers and boom! Your room's clean or . . ." A bang from downstairs followed by Mary Frances screech.