Author's note: Ne, I'm Eriol Hiiragaziwa, well.not literally of course, but
this is my first Harry Potter fanfiction and I'm really proud of how much
initiative I've shown in writing this piece so far. For copyright and legal
issues, the bottom line is, please don't sue me. Eriol Hiiragaziwa is NOT
meant to be copied or taken from Card Captor Sakura. He's just my favorite
character. Harry Potter is NOT owned by me, if it were, I'd be uber-rich
from the royalties. @_@ Anywho.I hope you like my fanfic and I'd appreciate
any reviews. I'll update ASAP!
- Eriol Hiiragaziwa
In the forever-bustling streets of Hong Kong, people bumped and shouldered each other, moving in a myriad of pedestrians and a cacophony of street sounds. Vendors cried out their daily sales, companions stopped in the midst of the crowd to exchange a conversation or even a few words. Rhythmic beats from speakers and boom boxes echoed against the slowly decaying walls of the busiest city in China. Whispers were picked up by the ever-present breeze, lifting up the words and flying them across the cityscape to remote parts where the noise was much quieter; away from the ever-eventful bazaars and black market hawkers, bouncing them from surface to surface. The breeze traveled everywhere, hearing snippets of conversations and tossing them ubiquitously at its own whim. Light and airy, without caring and without distinction, the breeze was its own master, save the times when the overlord storms and typhoons paid a visit, but otherwise, it was as free as the air, pun intended.
At this particular moment, the breeze ventured to the more upper- middle-class part of Hong Kong, in an area teeming with various apartment complexes and condominiums resembling typical American urban locations. Here, the breeze meandered from open window to open window, delighting in the somber and constrained conversations of humans. 'They are so inhibited!' cried the breeze to itself in a nimble blithe voice. 'So stuck to the ground without the freedom of the air!' Hanging by a particular window, the breeze eavesdropped upon the inhabitants, catching phrases of 'strange new place,' 'moving,' and 'don't want to.' Intrigued, the breeze lingered longer than usual. The language of Cantonese, a dialect of the mainland Mandarin, wafted through the open window, the language difference not mattering to the little breeze as when you've been around since the beginning of time, you've heard them all.
Inside the town house that quartered the open window, two figures could be seen at opposite ends of the room, their faces mutually red from shouting and eyes glaring directly at the other. At one end of the room, in the midst of mostly closed brown boxes, a young Asian boy, no more than 14 years of age, glowered at his mother, a taller Asian woman with increasingly showing lines of concern upon her face.
The boy, dressed in a normal teenage attire of jeans and a dark blue long sleeved shirt of light material, stood at a reasonably average height for an Asian of his age, 5"2. He had a soft mat of black hair that was going slightly reddish brown due to the increased amount of sunrays at this time of summer. His eyes, which would have normally been a soft warm brown, were now darker, and more clouded as a result of the obvious ongoing argument. His facial features could be described as cute and even a bit feminine, his lips more full and his eyes more alluring, yet there was an air about him that was unmistakably male; at times. His body frame could barely be seen through his hiding clothes, but his shoulders were a tad bit broader than the usual young male, and his build seemed stronger as well. Despite this, he gave an impression of being petite and small.
"Eriol Hiiragaziwa!" shouted the mother. "This matter is beyond your control and beyond your preference. Therefore, I suggest you get to liking it and finish packing!" The woman glowered for a moment before picking up some items from the ground and packing them into a spare cardboard box. She looked up from her packing momentarily and her eyebrows creased in frustration. "And I'd prefer you finish packing before we leave for the Quidditch World Cup, we'll be leaving right after we get back from that." With that final statement, she dedicated her full attention to finish packing, traces of her anger shown in the force she shoved objects in the box.
Eriol, the boy, scowled. "Little do you know that I've already finished packing!" he yelled furiously, his face set in a pained expression. "Even though I'm not leaving!" He turned on his heel and stormed out the door. His mother gave a pent-up sigh when he slammed the door shut with a loud bang, muttering darkly to herself and continuing with the packing.
Running down the stairs on the verge of tears, Eriol reached the bottom and unlocked his bike from the storage shed, his body shaking as he did so. Pedaling feverishly he biked as fast as he could away from his home and towards the main town of Hong Kong. Speeding along the sides of more crowded streets, his eyes blurred with tears and irritation from the wind. Within minutes, he entered the more hidden and secretive part of town through a maze of alleyways and side streets.
Near the end of one particular alleyway, there stood a small rather seedy store with darkened windows and dimly lit signs advertising it. On the top of the store was a grimy lettered sign proclaiming "The Mystic Dragon" to the few people who walked the alleyway. However, it seemed as though Eriol was the only one of the people who could've seen it; the Mystic Dragon seemed to be one of those places where individuals missed it unless they were looking for it specifically.
Dismounting from his bike, he walked it to a black bike rack that held several other similar bikes. Locking it securely into place in one of the slots, he opened the door to the Mystic Dragon, feeling slightly calmer from venting most of his anger through the bike ride.
The absence of light affronted his eyes at once, causing him to step back from the visual astonishment. He blinked a few times, his eyes vaguely seeing shapes move around in the room before him. "Don't just stand there, come in and close the door," called a familiar voice from the darkness.
Allowing memory to guide him into the room rather than senses, he took a step in and let the door shut behind him, impacting slightly upon his back. The darkness enclosed his awareness for a moment more before his eyes adjusted to the scene fully. The room was a bar, more or less, except that it wasn't really just a bar. Most bars were simply hangouts for adults to drink and socialize but this one was obviously not just that as a small assortment of both teenagers and adults sat in various parts of the room.
One of the groups of teenagers called him over. "Hey! Eriol! Over here!"
Eriol blinked once again and shuffled meekly over to the group and sat down in an empty wooden chair. The group that welcomed him included an equal collection of five boys and girls, two of which sat with their arms around each other. A boy in the group, with a fun and playful face grinned at Eriol, his face inquiring. "Hey, what's wrong Eriol?"
Eriol smiled sadly and sighed deeply, his eyes blinking back tears. "Today's the day." His voice trailed off. At these words, the members of the group turned and looked questioningly at each other, unsure of what to do. The boy who inquired in the beginning dropped his playful face for a concerned one. "You mean that you're moving today? I didn't think that was until."
"Yeah it's today." Eriol cut the boy's comment off with his own. This phrase brought an awkward silence over the grouping. "This'll be the last day I see you guys ne? It'll be the last time for a long time that I'll be able to hang out with you all. Ne?" He grimaced.
"Aw, don't be like that Eriol," sympathized Melody, a girl who sat next to him. She put her arms around him and hugged him affectionately. "We'll see each other soon, maybe we'll visit you or you could visit us ne? I'm sure everybody at the Yang-tsun school would love to see each you again. Besides, don't make your last day all gloomy ne?" She smiled warmly, giving him a tiny squeeze of friendliness. The rest of the Asian group nodded and smiled relieved in turn with Melody.
"Bleh," muttered Eriol, his mouth gradually turning up in a small smile. "You always know how to cheer people up, Mel." He gave a slight hug back. "You're right, we should have fun ne? And we're all going to the Quidditch World Cup later so it'll be a great day for us." After a few hours of playing various games such as Exploding Snap, Dance Dance Revolution, (the pub was more in touch with the Muggle world than most gathering spots) and other arcade games that were modified with magic, they each went their separate ways. Eriol biked home, feeling content as he sped through the quickly darkening streets of Hong Kong. In fifteen minutes time he arrived at the base of his town house and quickly put up his bicycle.
His hurried footsteps tapped lightly upon the wooden steps as he made his way up to the second floor of the building, rummaging for a key in his pocket when he arrived at the door. As his hand touched the cooler metal surface of the key, the door opened and his mother appeared, silhouetted in the bright white light of the room.
After a rather awkward pause, in which Eriol didn't quite meet and hold his mother's gaze, she spoke softly. "You okay kiddo?"
He smiled weakly and nodded, looking up a bit. "Yeah.I went to the Mystic Dragon and my friends helped." His voice trailed off and it was replaced by the same weak smile. His mother embraced him and looked at him tenderly.
"We thought you visited there," she said, a knowing look in her eyes. "But we didn't come to get you because we thought you'd be happy there." She stepped back into the room and allowed passage for Eriol to enter.
"I was." Eriol blinked twice and hugged his arms about himself as he timidly stepped into the house. "Ano, about earlier."
"Its okay." His mother smiled warmly at him and hugged him again. "I understand moving is a difficult thing, especially for you. But, you'll get to see your friends again tonight, ne? And it'll be a great last day ne?"
Eriol smiled and nodded. "Hai.my friends and I have been looking forwards to the Quidditch World Cup all year now. What better way to leave than with a bang ne?"
In the forever-bustling streets of Hong Kong, people bumped and shouldered each other, moving in a myriad of pedestrians and a cacophony of street sounds. Vendors cried out their daily sales, companions stopped in the midst of the crowd to exchange a conversation or even a few words. Rhythmic beats from speakers and boom boxes echoed against the slowly decaying walls of the busiest city in China. Whispers were picked up by the ever-present breeze, lifting up the words and flying them across the cityscape to remote parts where the noise was much quieter; away from the ever-eventful bazaars and black market hawkers, bouncing them from surface to surface. The breeze traveled everywhere, hearing snippets of conversations and tossing them ubiquitously at its own whim. Light and airy, without caring and without distinction, the breeze was its own master, save the times when the overlord storms and typhoons paid a visit, but otherwise, it was as free as the air, pun intended.
At this particular moment, the breeze ventured to the more upper- middle-class part of Hong Kong, in an area teeming with various apartment complexes and condominiums resembling typical American urban locations. Here, the breeze meandered from open window to open window, delighting in the somber and constrained conversations of humans. 'They are so inhibited!' cried the breeze to itself in a nimble blithe voice. 'So stuck to the ground without the freedom of the air!' Hanging by a particular window, the breeze eavesdropped upon the inhabitants, catching phrases of 'strange new place,' 'moving,' and 'don't want to.' Intrigued, the breeze lingered longer than usual. The language of Cantonese, a dialect of the mainland Mandarin, wafted through the open window, the language difference not mattering to the little breeze as when you've been around since the beginning of time, you've heard them all.
Inside the town house that quartered the open window, two figures could be seen at opposite ends of the room, their faces mutually red from shouting and eyes glaring directly at the other. At one end of the room, in the midst of mostly closed brown boxes, a young Asian boy, no more than 14 years of age, glowered at his mother, a taller Asian woman with increasingly showing lines of concern upon her face.
The boy, dressed in a normal teenage attire of jeans and a dark blue long sleeved shirt of light material, stood at a reasonably average height for an Asian of his age, 5"2. He had a soft mat of black hair that was going slightly reddish brown due to the increased amount of sunrays at this time of summer. His eyes, which would have normally been a soft warm brown, were now darker, and more clouded as a result of the obvious ongoing argument. His facial features could be described as cute and even a bit feminine, his lips more full and his eyes more alluring, yet there was an air about him that was unmistakably male; at times. His body frame could barely be seen through his hiding clothes, but his shoulders were a tad bit broader than the usual young male, and his build seemed stronger as well. Despite this, he gave an impression of being petite and small.
"Eriol Hiiragaziwa!" shouted the mother. "This matter is beyond your control and beyond your preference. Therefore, I suggest you get to liking it and finish packing!" The woman glowered for a moment before picking up some items from the ground and packing them into a spare cardboard box. She looked up from her packing momentarily and her eyebrows creased in frustration. "And I'd prefer you finish packing before we leave for the Quidditch World Cup, we'll be leaving right after we get back from that." With that final statement, she dedicated her full attention to finish packing, traces of her anger shown in the force she shoved objects in the box.
Eriol, the boy, scowled. "Little do you know that I've already finished packing!" he yelled furiously, his face set in a pained expression. "Even though I'm not leaving!" He turned on his heel and stormed out the door. His mother gave a pent-up sigh when he slammed the door shut with a loud bang, muttering darkly to herself and continuing with the packing.
Running down the stairs on the verge of tears, Eriol reached the bottom and unlocked his bike from the storage shed, his body shaking as he did so. Pedaling feverishly he biked as fast as he could away from his home and towards the main town of Hong Kong. Speeding along the sides of more crowded streets, his eyes blurred with tears and irritation from the wind. Within minutes, he entered the more hidden and secretive part of town through a maze of alleyways and side streets.
Near the end of one particular alleyway, there stood a small rather seedy store with darkened windows and dimly lit signs advertising it. On the top of the store was a grimy lettered sign proclaiming "The Mystic Dragon" to the few people who walked the alleyway. However, it seemed as though Eriol was the only one of the people who could've seen it; the Mystic Dragon seemed to be one of those places where individuals missed it unless they were looking for it specifically.
Dismounting from his bike, he walked it to a black bike rack that held several other similar bikes. Locking it securely into place in one of the slots, he opened the door to the Mystic Dragon, feeling slightly calmer from venting most of his anger through the bike ride.
The absence of light affronted his eyes at once, causing him to step back from the visual astonishment. He blinked a few times, his eyes vaguely seeing shapes move around in the room before him. "Don't just stand there, come in and close the door," called a familiar voice from the darkness.
Allowing memory to guide him into the room rather than senses, he took a step in and let the door shut behind him, impacting slightly upon his back. The darkness enclosed his awareness for a moment more before his eyes adjusted to the scene fully. The room was a bar, more or less, except that it wasn't really just a bar. Most bars were simply hangouts for adults to drink and socialize but this one was obviously not just that as a small assortment of both teenagers and adults sat in various parts of the room.
One of the groups of teenagers called him over. "Hey! Eriol! Over here!"
Eriol blinked once again and shuffled meekly over to the group and sat down in an empty wooden chair. The group that welcomed him included an equal collection of five boys and girls, two of which sat with their arms around each other. A boy in the group, with a fun and playful face grinned at Eriol, his face inquiring. "Hey, what's wrong Eriol?"
Eriol smiled sadly and sighed deeply, his eyes blinking back tears. "Today's the day." His voice trailed off. At these words, the members of the group turned and looked questioningly at each other, unsure of what to do. The boy who inquired in the beginning dropped his playful face for a concerned one. "You mean that you're moving today? I didn't think that was until."
"Yeah it's today." Eriol cut the boy's comment off with his own. This phrase brought an awkward silence over the grouping. "This'll be the last day I see you guys ne? It'll be the last time for a long time that I'll be able to hang out with you all. Ne?" He grimaced.
"Aw, don't be like that Eriol," sympathized Melody, a girl who sat next to him. She put her arms around him and hugged him affectionately. "We'll see each other soon, maybe we'll visit you or you could visit us ne? I'm sure everybody at the Yang-tsun school would love to see each you again. Besides, don't make your last day all gloomy ne?" She smiled warmly, giving him a tiny squeeze of friendliness. The rest of the Asian group nodded and smiled relieved in turn with Melody.
"Bleh," muttered Eriol, his mouth gradually turning up in a small smile. "You always know how to cheer people up, Mel." He gave a slight hug back. "You're right, we should have fun ne? And we're all going to the Quidditch World Cup later so it'll be a great day for us." After a few hours of playing various games such as Exploding Snap, Dance Dance Revolution, (the pub was more in touch with the Muggle world than most gathering spots) and other arcade games that were modified with magic, they each went their separate ways. Eriol biked home, feeling content as he sped through the quickly darkening streets of Hong Kong. In fifteen minutes time he arrived at the base of his town house and quickly put up his bicycle.
His hurried footsteps tapped lightly upon the wooden steps as he made his way up to the second floor of the building, rummaging for a key in his pocket when he arrived at the door. As his hand touched the cooler metal surface of the key, the door opened and his mother appeared, silhouetted in the bright white light of the room.
After a rather awkward pause, in which Eriol didn't quite meet and hold his mother's gaze, she spoke softly. "You okay kiddo?"
He smiled weakly and nodded, looking up a bit. "Yeah.I went to the Mystic Dragon and my friends helped." His voice trailed off and it was replaced by the same weak smile. His mother embraced him and looked at him tenderly.
"We thought you visited there," she said, a knowing look in her eyes. "But we didn't come to get you because we thought you'd be happy there." She stepped back into the room and allowed passage for Eriol to enter.
"I was." Eriol blinked twice and hugged his arms about himself as he timidly stepped into the house. "Ano, about earlier."
"Its okay." His mother smiled warmly at him and hugged him again. "I understand moving is a difficult thing, especially for you. But, you'll get to see your friends again tonight, ne? And it'll be a great last day ne?"
Eriol smiled and nodded. "Hai.my friends and I have been looking forwards to the Quidditch World Cup all year now. What better way to leave than with a bang ne?"