Aloha!!!
Hi, I have another chapter. I am so sorry that it is taking so long for me to update all of my fics recently, but I got my first Christmas present and I have been obsessed with it lately.
Yes, that is right I m a now the proud owner of Lord of the Rings: The fellowship of the rings, extended special DVD edition!!! Isn't my mum the coolest for buying it for me.
Any who, not just that, but it is also test time, so, I found the time for this fic, hope you enjoy
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The wax dripped silently, slowly down the cylinder which held the wick. The heat at its tip generating enough power to dwindle the power of the fresh new candle. The orange flame sent ghostly shadows over the books and quills, parchment and ink that was scattered across the old, hardwood table of the Hogwarts library.
The library was silent except for the usual sounds of Hogwarts at night. A tree branch scratched against the window in the corner, one of the old chairs was creaking under the weight to its occupant, and somewhere, some one was tapping their fingernails against a desk.
But Harry sat silently, an old, musty, frail book in his hands. His attention, however, was not on the book. It was on anything other than the book. It was on his ink bottle, which was new at the beginning of the school year, but now, at the end of the first week, it was already a quarter gone. His attention was on the candle, which was dripping down onto the holder that it was sitting in. But most of all, Harry's attention was fixed on her.
The beautiful blonde that had taken his breath away. The girl he had literally bumped into at the train station. The girls whose name he still did not know.
It seemed that the mystery woman was really just that, a mystery. Every one he asked seemed to know nothing about her, or, if they did know something, they seemed scared to admit it.
He wished he knew something about her, anything. Something to stop himself from going crazy. He wish he knew what her name was, or what house she was in. But most of all, he wished that he had made a better impression on her at the station.
This girl was haunting him. Every time that Harry closed his eyes, he would see her steel grey eyes looking back. Every time he would see the sun, he would think of her strong, golden blonde hair, and how it framed her face so beautifully. Every time the wind was gush past Harry, he would think of her light laugh.
Ron had been laughing at his love sick ways for a week now. Harry knew that he would have to either met this girl properly or get her out of his head before long. It would only be a matter of time until Ron would stop being the supportive best friend, and start to get annoyed with him.
Maybe getting over her would be the best thing that Harry could do. No matter how much he wanted to know this girl, he knew it would be useless because she didn't seem to even exist.
Maybe she didn't exist; maybe she was just a figment of his imagination. A very nice figment of his imagination, but a figment of his imagination all the same.
Any way, now was not the time for this. It was his final year of his education, the year that could make or break any young wizard. He needed to focus; he needed to get his head in the work. He needed to spend all of his time and effort on his school work, and on his quidditch. They were the things that he knew mattered the most to his life and his future, so that was what he was going to concentrate on.
Harry had also spoken to professor Dumbledore about learning a few more powerful spells and hexes, arguing that no body knew when Voldemort may strike again. Dumbledore, fortunately, had agreed. It had been a theory brought forward by the ministry that Voldemort would want to fight Harry when he was a fully trained wizard, in order to have an even and fair showdown (as even as fighting an evil dark lord can be). If their theory was correct, then Harry had a year to train and prepare.
He knew there was no way that was enough time.
But that was another thing that Harry chose not to dwell on. There was nothing he could do to stop Voldemort attacking, but there was lots he could do to fight back.
At the current time, however, something more urgent was attacking him. He sat in the quiet and secluded desk in the corner, with a pile of transfiguration books scattered across the table. He had to hand in a roll of parchment by Monday on why it is hard, and also against the law, to transfigure a hair pin into a jousting lance. The subject was not as easy as it sounded.
The scattered books were doing very little to help him with his quest for information. None of the books seemed to tell him anything he didn't already know and had already written about. He had another three quarters of a roll to write.
For any other subject, he would have just made something up. But this report was for McGonagal. She would never let anyone get away with some thing like that. Even if they were Gryffindor.
The candle dripped again, and Harry looked down at his watch. It was getting late, almost nine thirty, and he knew that soon he would be asked to leave the library anyway. He was making no progress, so he stood, gathered the old dust volumes, and moved back to return them to their rightful shelves.
The rows of books were darker and maybe in some ways scarier than the remainder of the library. The isles caused by the bookshelves were lit by floating candles at regular intervals. He looked around, looking for the correct place to put the books, but also in a place where they could be easily found the next day, when he came back to do more research.
Suddenly he stopped. Tucking all of the books under one arm, he brought his now free hand to his forehead. He had gotten a sharp pain in his scar. A pain that was usually a warning sign to him. But as soon as the pain started, the pain stopped again.
Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves. That was odd, yes, it had never happened like that before, but the pain was gone now. Harry took a deep breath, rubbed his forehead again, and decided to go straight to Dumbledore after he had put the books away.
Something knew flooded his senses however. It was like music, a soft humming, coming from some where near him. Harry turned, and looked to one end of the corridor of books, just as she entered it.
Time slowed down as soon as he realized who it was. It was the girl from the train station. The beautiful blonde haired, grey eyed girl.
She was yet to see him; she had her face buried in an old edition of a potions book. Harry stood still, just watching her as she moved gracefully towards the potions section.
"Umm, hi" Harry smiled as she approached him. The girl smiled and snapped her book closed.
"Hello Harry" She replied. Harry looked at her strangely.
"How do you know who I am?" He asked her, she smiled at him, a carefully moved her index finger to his forehead, tracing the lightning bolt scar that had made his famous. Just moments before, the scar had been tingling in red hot pain, but now, now it was just tingling. The skin on the girl's finger was soft and delicate, and her touch on his face was almost feather light
"You would have to be living under a rock, for the last 15 or so years to not know who you are Harry Potter, you are a legend." She smiled. Harry sighed. Although he didn't agree with what she had said about him being a legend, he did enjoy listening to her speak. He voice was just as gentle as her voice, but there was a current of some thing else lying in her tone and pitch. She sounded angelic, but Harry realized that her voice would change completely if she was to be angry with some one.
"Sorry, I some times forget, the mania has died down a little over the years" Harry smiled. It was true. Occasionally there were times when some one would recognize him and shake his hand, there were even times when people would realize who he was and insult him, but recently, people had been leaving him alone. It was no longer such a big deal to be Harry Potter. Harry had a feeling that all of that would change again soon. But at the moment, everything was calm.
"You forget that you are famous.I think that I would to. It just seems like to much work" She smiled at him as they walked together to the transfiguration section, carting Harry's books with them.
"So, do you have a name? Or should I just call you angel" Harry asked, and he immediately regretted it. That would have to down in history as one of the dumbest things to ever come out of Harry Potter's mouth (and that was saying a lot, since a lot of dumb things came out of Harry's mouth.) Harry looked at the mystery girl nervously, but she was chuckling. Harry felt a little more at ease, even though he was cursing himself silently.
"Harry, are you trying to hit on me?" She asked, Harry chuckled.
"That depends on weather or not I have got a chance" Harry replied. The girl laughed again. That laugh, the laugh that Harry was fastly falling in love with.
"You have no chance, but it is not because you can't flirt well" she informed him.
Harry sighed "I have no chance, huh? Can I ask why?"
"We are two different people Harry, and I am sorry, but that is the way that it has to be" She told him, rather sadly.
Harry looked around, and something caught his eye. The patch on her Hogwarts robe, green and silver. Slytherin.
"Is this because I am in Gryffindor and you are in Slytherin. Because if it helps any, the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin" Harry told her. He couldn't believe that he had just told her that the sorting hat in his first year had been unsure on its decision to put Harry in Gryffindor. He had never even told any one that, not even Hermione and Ron knew of the hats decision.
"This has nothing to do with out houses Harry. This has everything to do with us.and the fact that there will never be an us" She replied, replacing her potions book in the potions section on the library, and then moving to her table on the other side of the library to pack all of her things into her bag. Harry quickly ran back to his desk and threw all of his things haphazardly into his own bag. He made it to the door just as the mystery girl did.
"Are you stalking me?" She joked.
"If I was, would you explain to me what the hell you mean by everything that you just said?" Harry asked. The girl sighed.
"It is a very very long story Harry, and I don't have time to explain it all to you now, in fact, I don't want to have to explain it to you at all, so, lets just forget that we ever met and get over it" She told him, Harry sighed.
"I am going to find out sooner or later you know, don't you think that you would rather it if you told me yourself instead of letting me hear it though the Hogwarts grape vine?" Harry asked. She sighed.
"Either way you are going to hate me when you find out the truth, so really, what difference does it make?" She asked.
"I could never hate you!"
"You say that now"
"And I mean it" He exclaimed, his words bouncing off the walls in a distorted echo.
"Listen Harry, you sound like a really nice guy, and you have always treated me really nice in the.well, two times we have ever spoken. But we are just too different for anything to ever come of it, so please, just leave me alone" She told him, and then moved to walk off down the hall.
"Can I at least have a name?" Harry asked
"You already have one" She replied, laughing.
"Very funny, your name, or do I have to keep calling you angel?" Harry asked. She stopped and turned back to him.
"Don't call me angel, because the truth is, I am the so far away from being an angel" she told him.
"Then can I at least your name, I promise to stop calling you angel" Harry smiled. "Come on, what harm can a name do?"
"A lot if it is my name. My name seems to be my curse, and once you find out who I really am, then, well, it will be your curse to" The girl told him.
"Then just your first name, and I will leave you alone" Harry bargained. The girl stood, and thought for a few minutes.
"Vixen.My name is Vixen"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N
Ahhh, finally the title makes sense.
ANYWAY
Fool of a Took, review this time and inform me of my stupidity!!!
Hi, I have another chapter. I am so sorry that it is taking so long for me to update all of my fics recently, but I got my first Christmas present and I have been obsessed with it lately.
Yes, that is right I m a now the proud owner of Lord of the Rings: The fellowship of the rings, extended special DVD edition!!! Isn't my mum the coolest for buying it for me.
Any who, not just that, but it is also test time, so, I found the time for this fic, hope you enjoy
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The wax dripped silently, slowly down the cylinder which held the wick. The heat at its tip generating enough power to dwindle the power of the fresh new candle. The orange flame sent ghostly shadows over the books and quills, parchment and ink that was scattered across the old, hardwood table of the Hogwarts library.
The library was silent except for the usual sounds of Hogwarts at night. A tree branch scratched against the window in the corner, one of the old chairs was creaking under the weight to its occupant, and somewhere, some one was tapping their fingernails against a desk.
But Harry sat silently, an old, musty, frail book in his hands. His attention, however, was not on the book. It was on anything other than the book. It was on his ink bottle, which was new at the beginning of the school year, but now, at the end of the first week, it was already a quarter gone. His attention was on the candle, which was dripping down onto the holder that it was sitting in. But most of all, Harry's attention was fixed on her.
The beautiful blonde that had taken his breath away. The girl he had literally bumped into at the train station. The girls whose name he still did not know.
It seemed that the mystery woman was really just that, a mystery. Every one he asked seemed to know nothing about her, or, if they did know something, they seemed scared to admit it.
He wished he knew something about her, anything. Something to stop himself from going crazy. He wish he knew what her name was, or what house she was in. But most of all, he wished that he had made a better impression on her at the station.
This girl was haunting him. Every time that Harry closed his eyes, he would see her steel grey eyes looking back. Every time he would see the sun, he would think of her strong, golden blonde hair, and how it framed her face so beautifully. Every time the wind was gush past Harry, he would think of her light laugh.
Ron had been laughing at his love sick ways for a week now. Harry knew that he would have to either met this girl properly or get her out of his head before long. It would only be a matter of time until Ron would stop being the supportive best friend, and start to get annoyed with him.
Maybe getting over her would be the best thing that Harry could do. No matter how much he wanted to know this girl, he knew it would be useless because she didn't seem to even exist.
Maybe she didn't exist; maybe she was just a figment of his imagination. A very nice figment of his imagination, but a figment of his imagination all the same.
Any way, now was not the time for this. It was his final year of his education, the year that could make or break any young wizard. He needed to focus; he needed to get his head in the work. He needed to spend all of his time and effort on his school work, and on his quidditch. They were the things that he knew mattered the most to his life and his future, so that was what he was going to concentrate on.
Harry had also spoken to professor Dumbledore about learning a few more powerful spells and hexes, arguing that no body knew when Voldemort may strike again. Dumbledore, fortunately, had agreed. It had been a theory brought forward by the ministry that Voldemort would want to fight Harry when he was a fully trained wizard, in order to have an even and fair showdown (as even as fighting an evil dark lord can be). If their theory was correct, then Harry had a year to train and prepare.
He knew there was no way that was enough time.
But that was another thing that Harry chose not to dwell on. There was nothing he could do to stop Voldemort attacking, but there was lots he could do to fight back.
At the current time, however, something more urgent was attacking him. He sat in the quiet and secluded desk in the corner, with a pile of transfiguration books scattered across the table. He had to hand in a roll of parchment by Monday on why it is hard, and also against the law, to transfigure a hair pin into a jousting lance. The subject was not as easy as it sounded.
The scattered books were doing very little to help him with his quest for information. None of the books seemed to tell him anything he didn't already know and had already written about. He had another three quarters of a roll to write.
For any other subject, he would have just made something up. But this report was for McGonagal. She would never let anyone get away with some thing like that. Even if they were Gryffindor.
The candle dripped again, and Harry looked down at his watch. It was getting late, almost nine thirty, and he knew that soon he would be asked to leave the library anyway. He was making no progress, so he stood, gathered the old dust volumes, and moved back to return them to their rightful shelves.
The rows of books were darker and maybe in some ways scarier than the remainder of the library. The isles caused by the bookshelves were lit by floating candles at regular intervals. He looked around, looking for the correct place to put the books, but also in a place where they could be easily found the next day, when he came back to do more research.
Suddenly he stopped. Tucking all of the books under one arm, he brought his now free hand to his forehead. He had gotten a sharp pain in his scar. A pain that was usually a warning sign to him. But as soon as the pain started, the pain stopped again.
Harry took a deep breath to calm his nerves. That was odd, yes, it had never happened like that before, but the pain was gone now. Harry took a deep breath, rubbed his forehead again, and decided to go straight to Dumbledore after he had put the books away.
Something knew flooded his senses however. It was like music, a soft humming, coming from some where near him. Harry turned, and looked to one end of the corridor of books, just as she entered it.
Time slowed down as soon as he realized who it was. It was the girl from the train station. The beautiful blonde haired, grey eyed girl.
She was yet to see him; she had her face buried in an old edition of a potions book. Harry stood still, just watching her as she moved gracefully towards the potions section.
"Umm, hi" Harry smiled as she approached him. The girl smiled and snapped her book closed.
"Hello Harry" She replied. Harry looked at her strangely.
"How do you know who I am?" He asked her, she smiled at him, a carefully moved her index finger to his forehead, tracing the lightning bolt scar that had made his famous. Just moments before, the scar had been tingling in red hot pain, but now, now it was just tingling. The skin on the girl's finger was soft and delicate, and her touch on his face was almost feather light
"You would have to be living under a rock, for the last 15 or so years to not know who you are Harry Potter, you are a legend." She smiled. Harry sighed. Although he didn't agree with what she had said about him being a legend, he did enjoy listening to her speak. He voice was just as gentle as her voice, but there was a current of some thing else lying in her tone and pitch. She sounded angelic, but Harry realized that her voice would change completely if she was to be angry with some one.
"Sorry, I some times forget, the mania has died down a little over the years" Harry smiled. It was true. Occasionally there were times when some one would recognize him and shake his hand, there were even times when people would realize who he was and insult him, but recently, people had been leaving him alone. It was no longer such a big deal to be Harry Potter. Harry had a feeling that all of that would change again soon. But at the moment, everything was calm.
"You forget that you are famous.I think that I would to. It just seems like to much work" She smiled at him as they walked together to the transfiguration section, carting Harry's books with them.
"So, do you have a name? Or should I just call you angel" Harry asked, and he immediately regretted it. That would have to down in history as one of the dumbest things to ever come out of Harry Potter's mouth (and that was saying a lot, since a lot of dumb things came out of Harry's mouth.) Harry looked at the mystery girl nervously, but she was chuckling. Harry felt a little more at ease, even though he was cursing himself silently.
"Harry, are you trying to hit on me?" She asked, Harry chuckled.
"That depends on weather or not I have got a chance" Harry replied. The girl laughed again. That laugh, the laugh that Harry was fastly falling in love with.
"You have no chance, but it is not because you can't flirt well" she informed him.
Harry sighed "I have no chance, huh? Can I ask why?"
"We are two different people Harry, and I am sorry, but that is the way that it has to be" She told him, rather sadly.
Harry looked around, and something caught his eye. The patch on her Hogwarts robe, green and silver. Slytherin.
"Is this because I am in Gryffindor and you are in Slytherin. Because if it helps any, the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin" Harry told her. He couldn't believe that he had just told her that the sorting hat in his first year had been unsure on its decision to put Harry in Gryffindor. He had never even told any one that, not even Hermione and Ron knew of the hats decision.
"This has nothing to do with out houses Harry. This has everything to do with us.and the fact that there will never be an us" She replied, replacing her potions book in the potions section on the library, and then moving to her table on the other side of the library to pack all of her things into her bag. Harry quickly ran back to his desk and threw all of his things haphazardly into his own bag. He made it to the door just as the mystery girl did.
"Are you stalking me?" She joked.
"If I was, would you explain to me what the hell you mean by everything that you just said?" Harry asked. The girl sighed.
"It is a very very long story Harry, and I don't have time to explain it all to you now, in fact, I don't want to have to explain it to you at all, so, lets just forget that we ever met and get over it" She told him, Harry sighed.
"I am going to find out sooner or later you know, don't you think that you would rather it if you told me yourself instead of letting me hear it though the Hogwarts grape vine?" Harry asked. She sighed.
"Either way you are going to hate me when you find out the truth, so really, what difference does it make?" She asked.
"I could never hate you!"
"You say that now"
"And I mean it" He exclaimed, his words bouncing off the walls in a distorted echo.
"Listen Harry, you sound like a really nice guy, and you have always treated me really nice in the.well, two times we have ever spoken. But we are just too different for anything to ever come of it, so please, just leave me alone" She told him, and then moved to walk off down the hall.
"Can I at least have a name?" Harry asked
"You already have one" She replied, laughing.
"Very funny, your name, or do I have to keep calling you angel?" Harry asked. She stopped and turned back to him.
"Don't call me angel, because the truth is, I am the so far away from being an angel" she told him.
"Then can I at least your name, I promise to stop calling you angel" Harry smiled. "Come on, what harm can a name do?"
"A lot if it is my name. My name seems to be my curse, and once you find out who I really am, then, well, it will be your curse to" The girl told him.
"Then just your first name, and I will leave you alone" Harry bargained. The girl stood, and thought for a few minutes.
"Vixen.My name is Vixen"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
A/N
Ahhh, finally the title makes sense.
ANYWAY
Fool of a Took, review this time and inform me of my stupidity!!!