Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own convoluted storylines . alas; the true
genius belongs to a goddess among men.
A/N This story has had more facelifts than anything I've ever written, but let me know what you think of this first bit..
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Harry kicked the gravel as he walked, staring at the holes in his boots. He knew that he must look awful, but there was just nowhere else to go. A quick glance in a car window told him that he looked almost as bad as Sirius did when he escaped from Azkaban, and he winced - thinking about Sirius was still much too painful. Hunching his shoulders against the wind he continued the long trek to the house on the hill. As he stumbled along, he wondered how things would be when he got there. He knew it couldn't possibly still be the haven full of laughter that he remembered and he questioned whether he wanted to taint that memory with the reality that he knew was impending. He thought of the darkness that had touched that house - the house once full of good smells and smiling faces, full of love and acceptance, and he felt a pang of raw emotion in his chest. He wiped away tears with a filthy hand and narrowed his eyes as he approached. Reaching the walkway, he looked at the yard. Where there were once flowers and chickens, there was now only brown crackling grass and scattered leaves, which swept across the lawn with the wind. The steps leading up to the house sagged with the weight of the years and the mat lay faded and abandoned at an odd angle beneath the doorframe. Harry rapped on the door with cracked and bleeding knuckles, made so by months of harsh cold and brutal combat, and bit his lip to keep his teeth from chattering. Slowly the door creaked open and a pair of eyes was visible from the dark interior.
"Can I help you, sir?" asked a voice tinged with fear. "They must not get many visitors now," Harry thought to himself.
"It's me, Molly. I'm home," he whispered gruffly. He saw her eyes flash with recognition and heard her gasp, and then put her hands to her mouth.
"Harry. Oh, Harry, dear!" she sobbed into her apron as she swept him into the house and, briefly, her arms. "Are you alright? Please come in - can I fix you something to eat? How is -" her face fell as she looked fervently at the empty road behind him.
Harry sighed, "He hasn't made it home, then." Molly's chin fell to her chest as she shook her head solemnly. "Well, I'm in one piece, Molly. Barely, but I think I'll manage." He gave her a thin smile, trying to change the subject abruptly. He gratefully took from her the tea he was offered and began to eat ravenously anything she could put before him. "I came here because I didn't know where else to go, Molly. I was hoping he'd be here - I-I hope you don't mind, and I don't plan to impose long - just until I can get my footing and find a place of my own." he trailed off as she gaped at him in surprise.
"Harry Potter! I will not have you going anywhere! You'll stay right here where I can keep an eye on you! Look at you! You mustn't have eaten in months!" Harry glanced down at his thin frame and shrugged. He continued eating as he studied her weary features: the many hardships that had befallen her certainly took their toll. Her frame, once round and robust (and admittedly a little intimidating) was now frail and thin, and her face lolled with the weight of her worries. A faint knock on the door startled him out of his daze.
"Hello? Mum? Where are you?" A familiar scent wafted to the dining room, and Harry instantly regretted not going and fixing himself up before sitting down to eat. Ginny's head appeared around the corner, and her smile faded as her eyes lit upon his face. "Who's this, Mum?" she asked sharply. Molly smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. She gently put her hand on his forehead and brushed up his hair so that his faint scar was visible. Ginny's eyes widened and she too let her hands fly to her mouth.
"Harry?" she asked gingerly. Harry nodded and Ginny looked sharply away. "Where is my brother, Harry? Why isn't he with you?" Her eyes flashed with the temper of which only Ginny was capable. "He was supposed to be with you!" She was shouting now, and Harry winced as she grabbed his arm roughly. "Tell me that he's alright, Harry - you promised you'd keep him safe!" Harry's face fell and his shoulders slumped.
"I - I don't know where he is, Ginny." He sighed and then feebly got up out of his chair. "I'll be going now." Molly looked as though she'd like to stop him, but she read the determination on her daughter's face. He paused only for a minute, to look up at them and say, "It was good to be home," before reaching for his tattered cloak and aparating out of sight.
As Ginny gaped at the empty spot where Harry had stood only moments before, a wave of raw emotion crashed over her, and she sank to her knees on the dining room floor and wept.
A/N This story has had more facelifts than anything I've ever written, but let me know what you think of this first bit..
~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~*~~
Harry kicked the gravel as he walked, staring at the holes in his boots. He knew that he must look awful, but there was just nowhere else to go. A quick glance in a car window told him that he looked almost as bad as Sirius did when he escaped from Azkaban, and he winced - thinking about Sirius was still much too painful. Hunching his shoulders against the wind he continued the long trek to the house on the hill. As he stumbled along, he wondered how things would be when he got there. He knew it couldn't possibly still be the haven full of laughter that he remembered and he questioned whether he wanted to taint that memory with the reality that he knew was impending. He thought of the darkness that had touched that house - the house once full of good smells and smiling faces, full of love and acceptance, and he felt a pang of raw emotion in his chest. He wiped away tears with a filthy hand and narrowed his eyes as he approached. Reaching the walkway, he looked at the yard. Where there were once flowers and chickens, there was now only brown crackling grass and scattered leaves, which swept across the lawn with the wind. The steps leading up to the house sagged with the weight of the years and the mat lay faded and abandoned at an odd angle beneath the doorframe. Harry rapped on the door with cracked and bleeding knuckles, made so by months of harsh cold and brutal combat, and bit his lip to keep his teeth from chattering. Slowly the door creaked open and a pair of eyes was visible from the dark interior.
"Can I help you, sir?" asked a voice tinged with fear. "They must not get many visitors now," Harry thought to himself.
"It's me, Molly. I'm home," he whispered gruffly. He saw her eyes flash with recognition and heard her gasp, and then put her hands to her mouth.
"Harry. Oh, Harry, dear!" she sobbed into her apron as she swept him into the house and, briefly, her arms. "Are you alright? Please come in - can I fix you something to eat? How is -" her face fell as she looked fervently at the empty road behind him.
Harry sighed, "He hasn't made it home, then." Molly's chin fell to her chest as she shook her head solemnly. "Well, I'm in one piece, Molly. Barely, but I think I'll manage." He gave her a thin smile, trying to change the subject abruptly. He gratefully took from her the tea he was offered and began to eat ravenously anything she could put before him. "I came here because I didn't know where else to go, Molly. I was hoping he'd be here - I-I hope you don't mind, and I don't plan to impose long - just until I can get my footing and find a place of my own." he trailed off as she gaped at him in surprise.
"Harry Potter! I will not have you going anywhere! You'll stay right here where I can keep an eye on you! Look at you! You mustn't have eaten in months!" Harry glanced down at his thin frame and shrugged. He continued eating as he studied her weary features: the many hardships that had befallen her certainly took their toll. Her frame, once round and robust (and admittedly a little intimidating) was now frail and thin, and her face lolled with the weight of her worries. A faint knock on the door startled him out of his daze.
"Hello? Mum? Where are you?" A familiar scent wafted to the dining room, and Harry instantly regretted not going and fixing himself up before sitting down to eat. Ginny's head appeared around the corner, and her smile faded as her eyes lit upon his face. "Who's this, Mum?" she asked sharply. Molly smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. She gently put her hand on his forehead and brushed up his hair so that his faint scar was visible. Ginny's eyes widened and she too let her hands fly to her mouth.
"Harry?" she asked gingerly. Harry nodded and Ginny looked sharply away. "Where is my brother, Harry? Why isn't he with you?" Her eyes flashed with the temper of which only Ginny was capable. "He was supposed to be with you!" She was shouting now, and Harry winced as she grabbed his arm roughly. "Tell me that he's alright, Harry - you promised you'd keep him safe!" Harry's face fell and his shoulders slumped.
"I - I don't know where he is, Ginny." He sighed and then feebly got up out of his chair. "I'll be going now." Molly looked as though she'd like to stop him, but she read the determination on her daughter's face. He paused only for a minute, to look up at them and say, "It was good to be home," before reaching for his tattered cloak and aparating out of sight.
As Ginny gaped at the empty spot where Harry had stood only moments before, a wave of raw emotion crashed over her, and she sank to her knees on the dining room floor and wept.