Chapter 3
Shannon swung her back door open and stepped into the soft white entryway. It was a dreary walk home, the cold wind blowing around the august leaves, the gray sky threatening to open and let the rain fall.
"Mom, I'm home," Shannon called half-heartedly. She didn't really expect her mother to answer. Shannon stopped momentarily to take off her jacket before she headed up the stairs to her room. At the foot of the stairs she paused again when she heard her mother step into the living room doorway. The expression on her mother's face as she glanced at the backdoor was beyond her usual melancholy. No, now her eyes held a darkness, a grief that Shannon hadn't known existed. The look was fleeting however. Even as Shannon opened her mouth to ask what was wrong, her mother's expression cleared and she turned to go back to whatever it was she was doing. Shannon remained there a few minutes longer, staring at the now empty doorway, perplexed by the sadness in her mother's face. Then she shook her head and headed up to her room.
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Harry left Divination in a slightly better mood than when he had arrived. The rest of the day seemed brighter, as if the fog was thinning, becoming more of a mist, and mist is far easier to deal with than fog.
He'd also carried the locket with him the rest of the day. Harry was almost afraid to let it go, afraid that if he did it would no longer exist, and if it no longer existed, she couldn't exist either.
He sat at the dinner table with the locket in his fist, unaware of the silver chain dangling from it. With his other hand, he pushed the food around on his plate. It was a game he'd been playing for sometime now. It made him look as if he was eating, and kept Hermione from forcing one of her cups of sludge she called medicine down his throat. Tonight, however, some of the food had actually made it to his mouth.
Ron had been watching Harry, noticing the improvement of his mood, as well as his tightly clenched fist.
"What's that in you're hand Harry?" He finally asked.
"What?" Harry answered, thrown a bit by the question.
"That silver chain," Hermione added. "You've been carrying it around all day,"
"Oh, this" Harry drawled, looking at his fist and then quickly jamming the necklace in his robes. "Nothing…just a pocket watch. I bought it for Sirius and forgot to send it to him." He said, avoiding their eyes.
He wasn't quite sure why he lied. He just kept hearing what Professor Trelawney had told him in Divination. There was just something about her voice, the way it echoed in his mind. Now is not the time…
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Shannon sat on her bed, surrounded by a mountain of quilts and pillows. Hopelessly, she stared down at the empty notebook in front of her, trying to figure out how to start the poem her English teacher had assigned. Finally she sighed and stood up. She walked over to her old wooden vanity and, leaning against it, looked in the mirror. That's when she noticed it. It had practically become another extension of her body. Half the time she didn't even remember she wore it. But now, as she stared at her bare neck, there was no denying that the locket was gone.
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Harry sat at the long table, across from his friends. They had let the topic of the chain drop, accepting Harry's explanation with a shrug. Harry kept his eyes on his friends, nodding occasionally to make them think he was listening. His mind, however, was drifting to the conversation he'd overheard that morning.
He'd been on his way back from the boy's room; about to enter the room where his friends were waiting, when he heard his name mentioned. Without really knowing why, he stopped just outside the door, listening.
"We really need to do something," Hermione was saying.
"Yea," Ron agreed. "I'll talk to him about it. Maybe I can make him realize she's just a dream."
"It's worth a try, I suppose," Hermione replied. "But I'm afraid he's already too far gone. I've read about this kind of mental illness. Pretty soon he'll start associating real objects with her,"
"What do you mean?" Ron asked.
"Well, lets use a ring for an example. He could find this ring say…on the floor, and this illness might make him believe its hers, helping to convince him that she's real." Hermione explained. "If you're talk doesn't work, or something like that happens, we're going to have to get him some help." There was a pause. "Professional help," Hermione tried again.
"Oh," Ron breathed, catching on. That's when Harry decided to go into the room.
He pulled himself back to the conversation his friends were having now, once again arguing about house-elves. Harry stayed silent, not wanting to be drawn into the debate. His hand closed around the necklace in his robes. I'm not making her up, Harry thought. I can't be. I didn't find the necklace; it was in my hand when I woke up. How could I dream about a necklace, and wake up with the exact thing in my hand?
Again Harry surveyed his friends. They'd dropped their debate and from the way Hermione was smirking, it was obvious who had won.
"I'm gonna go up to bed," Harry said, rising. Hermione shot Ron a pointed look.
"Wait Harry!" Ron quickly blurted. "Hermione and I were going to visit Hagrid after dinner,"
"He's got some new monster he wants to show us," Hermione added.
"Something with really sharp teeth no doubt," Ron laughed.
Harry smiled slightly, "Sorry, but I think I'd like to get some extra rest tonight,"
"That's not why you're going," Hermione mumbled. Harry said nothing, but stood there trying to look confused in order to cover up the betrayal he felt, after all, his best friends thought he was insane.
"We're not stupid Harry. We know you only want to go to you're room and see you're dream girl." Ron explained. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Ron wouldn't let him. "No Harry, no more excuses. You can't keep sleeping you're life away like this. She's not that important! Damn it Harry, she's not even real!"
"She's real to me Ron," Harry replied in a cool voice. He wanted to show him the necklace, to prove he wasn't crazy, but Professor Trelawney caught his eye. She was facing Professor Sprout, and shaking her head as if in reply to something the teacher had said, but her eyes were on Harry. Pretty soon he'll start associating real objects with her… he heard Hermione's voice explaining. They'd never believe the necklace was hers.
"Then tell me her name," Ron questioned quietly.
Harry's face went blank. Up until this point, that little detail had never even occurred to him. He knew everything about her! How could he not know her name? He didn't know what to say. He just stood there, staring at his friend.
"You can't even do that, can you?" Ron said, in the same quiet voice. Harry began to back away. "Doesn't that tell you something Harry?"
Harry shook his head and fled from the Great Hall, fled from all the doubts it held. She isn't just a dream. She's real…isn't she?
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Shannon stood frozen, staring into the mirror. She couldn't lose that necklace. It was the only thing she had left from the part of her life when she'd been noticed, been loved. Her hand fluttered to rest at the base of her throat. Then a strange thing happened. The surface of the mirror seemed to shimmer slightly. There was something peculiar about her image now. She wasn't just staring at herself anymore. No, now she was staring at him.
When Harry reached his room, he stopped in front of the mirror, not really looking at his reflection-that was something he hadn't done in ages. Now he stood, dangling the necklace from his hand, twirling the locket in circles. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed a strange flicker, and then a movement that didn't quite mirror his own.
Shannon curiously observed the phenomenon. Her reflection was still there, but it was a sort of double image for there was also his, transparent and gray. He didn't seem to notice her. Instead, he focused on the twirling object suspended from his hand. She looked down at it and remembered. He had her necklace.
Harry looked up and found her in the mirror, her image hanging over his like a thin fog. He smiled at the sight of that face, those eyes. But her eyes were not focused on him. They were, instead, focused on the locket dancing on its silver chain. She stretched a hand toward it slowly, and just as it seemed she would reach through the glass, the mirror flickered and she was gone.
Shannon stood there, her heart racing as she saw his image fade. She put both hands on the vanity table, bracing herself against the sudden dizziness. Only one thought ran through her mind. I have to get that necklace back.
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Harry stood in front of the now normal mirror. Either this really was her necklace, or he'd gone certifiably insane. He sat down on his bed and opened the locket. Staring back at him were the two faces, young and old. Though Shannon looked much different now, she still had those same enchanting eyes. Her mother's eyes, he noticed. He sat there for a while, drinking in the necklace, commiting it to memory, turning it over and over in his hands. Then he noticed something he hadn't noticed before, and he smiled.
Authors Note: And thus ends Chapter 3. Sorry, this was a bit of a long chapter, for me anyway. As always, you're comments are appreciated. Tune in next time, the discovery continues in Chapter 4…
