Heir of the Lion
Prologue Part 2: The Living Dream
Harold stood by himself in front of a decorated altar, but he felt invisible. That was ok, because he was a nervous wreck. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead, his heart was pounding, and he was certain he would pass out soon. He looked out over a sea of faces, and made out the faces of his friends and his parents. What was his father doing there? That didn't make sense, somehow. Before he could ponder this further, everyone looked to the back of the room. He looked up to see the object of their attention, and was transfixed by a gorgeous woman dressed in stunningly elegant white robes slowly walking towards him. She stepped in time to unheard music, but her eyes looked right past his shoulder. He wanted her to see him, but she didn't. He knew he loved her, he was certainly supposed to love her, and she loved him, but why couldn't she see him?
He could feel the panic rising in his throat again, looking frantically over the crowd. Nobody saw him. His father looked at him briefly, but then he wasn't there anymore. His mother was weeping. Everyone else was still looking at the woman in the white robes. Was her name Jan? No. Where did that name come from? Her name is Rachael, he told himself, his fiancé. But why wasn't she looking at him? She was standing next to him now, but she couldn't see him. He looked around, and then back over the crowd. There, towards the back, a pair of eyes were staring straight at him, dark, deep eyes. Those were eyes that could look right through to his soul, and they kept looking. Those eyes saw him, everything about him. He tried to see the face, but there was a thick fog in the room. He called out, even though he didn't know the name he was calling. He heard someone answer, calling his name. "Harry? Harry!"
"Who? What? Huh?" Harold mumbled in his sleepiness. He was still fixed on the dream. Why did he always have those dreams, never quite identical, but it always felt the same. Always, there were those eyes.
"Harold! Wake up! You would be the person to miss his own wedding day by sleeping through it!" Gregory, his best man, was shaking his shoulder. "Rachael has been awake for hours! She can't believe I let you sleep this long."
Harold sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He grabbed his glasses and shoved them on to his face, watching the room come into focus. "Greg, what time is it?"
"It's nearly 10:00."
"Holy shit!" Harold grabbed his shower robe and made a mad dash towards his bedroom door, crashing headlong into one of the ushers. "Oof! James! You're here! You're ready? Oh my goodness . . . oh my . . . oh no . . . oh dear . . . oh, uh, I'll be right back." He continued his mad dash for the shower, leaving James in the doorway laughing at him.
James looked over at Gregory. "You know, you didn't have to do that."
"Do what?" asked Greg, looking too innocent.
"You know it's only 8:30."
"Yeah, but this way, he won't have time to get cold feet. Plus, it's the only way I can get him out the door without watching him fuss in the mirror for an hour, trying to get his hair to lie flat. You know it's never going to happen."
**********************************************************************
A knock on the door of Big Ed's office snapped him out of the daze he had been sitting in. He'd been sitting like that since a letter from Los Angeles's Headquarters had been dropped on his desk. Ed was used to good news. He was used to bad news. Ed wasn't accustomed to news he couldn't define. It all depended on Jan's reaction. "Come in."
"You wanted to see me?" A luminous pair of eyes was peering from around the edge of the door. "What's troubling you?"
"You don't miss a beat, do you?" He forced a quiet laugh, and motioned for her to sit down. "I got a letter from Intelligence on the west coast. Remember those Dark spies we were worried about? They still don't know who you are, but they managed to track you to here."
Jan nodded. She had known this was going to happen for some time. It was inevitable. She could keep running, without a home, using the Salem Headquarters as a base of operations until they managed to break the Dark spy ring, but with her daughter, that was impossible. The nature of her ability to spy had made it possible for her to work from her home. Only three people knew about her daughter. More specifically, only three people remembered her daughter. It was necessary, for their mutual safety. Ed knew, of course, as did the Mediwitch, Camille, who served as midwife during the delivery. Finally, Mimi also knew. She had been relieved, honorably, from her position at Headquarters and had attached her full loyalty to Jan and her daughter, Anna. She had been assigned to assist in caring for the child, and to be a companion, as it was too dangerous to have a witch or wizard doing the job. All those precautions they had taken had, in the long run, been ineffective. It was time to leave.
"How long do we have?" Jan asked without emotion.
"A day, at best." Ed sighed. "We still need you, but your safety, and Anna's, have to come first. Settle amongst muggles, home-train Anna. She'll understand when she's older. She's already such a bright girl."
They sat in silence for a moment, which was broken again by Ed. "Do you know where you'll go?"
"Actually, I had an idea, if you're willing to approve it."
"If I can make you happy, you know I will."
"I want to move to England."
This hadn't been unexpected, but England was a nexus of the wizarding world, not exactly the best place to keep a low profile. Ed left this unsaid, choosing to respond with, "You want to find him, don't you?"
"Even if I don't find him, or more likely, if I can't connect with him, if something happens to me, Mimi will find Harold, and bring Anna to him. She'll at least have a family there." Jan paused, and the tears that had been threatening to break her emotional shell finally spilled over. Ed walked over to her, and put an arm around her shoulders, holding her silently as her tears splashed onto his robes. Here was the strongest person he'd ever met, and she was sobbing unabashedly. What could he say? Now, she was being asked to uproot from what little family she had.
She stopped crying quickly, drying her face and resuming her normal composure. "I'll say my goodbyes, then I'll break all contacts." She looked at him imploringly. "What about you?"
Ed's face softened into a sympathetic smile. "You'll still have me, but I can't know exactly where you are. Have Bram find me if you need to make contact, but until this crisis is over, you can't come back. You always know it may not be just revenge they seek."
Jan nodded, and stood. There was no point in prolonging this any more. She wrapped her arms around him, a trace of a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. "I'll miss you."
**********************************************************************
The next morning, a weary woman, scared young girl, and a house-elf arrived in Diagon Alley. Their luggage had been shrunken and charmed for lightness, and was tucked into their robes. They had a lot to do that day. First, they had to stop at Gringotts to exchange some gold for Muggle money. She also needed some basic wizarding provisions for starting up a proper home, but everything she bought would have to blend into Muggle surroundings. Finally, Anna needed a wand. She was only 8, her 9th birthday coming up in two weeks, but if she was to be home-trained, they needed the wand sooner rather than later. They went about their errands, generally left to themselves by strangers. They finally sat down at lunch time to refresh themselves.
Jan looked across the table at her daughter. She could always see Harold's face in her daughter's. The way her nose turned, the quirk in her eyebrows, the wavy, black hair that never stayed put were all so reminiscent of the father she had never known. "Mommy, are you ok?"
"Oh, yes dear, yes I am. Mommy was just thinking about someone she hasn't seen for a long time." That would satisfy a normal eight-year-old girl, but not Anna.
"You're thinking about Daddy, aren't you?"
Jan smiled and sighed. What do you do with a daughter who can read your mind? You tell her the absolute truth, just as she always had.
"Yes, I am sweetheart. But now, it's time for dessert! Ice cream perhaps? And after that, I've got a special surprise that even you don't know about yet!"
"What's that mom?"
"You're getting your wand today."
Anna's face broadened into an unstoppable smile, and her thoughts drifted off to happier things. Jan picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet someone had left and started skimming the headlines. She was just starting to relax under the midday sun when her breath caught in her throat. She knew it could happen. She had told herself it probably would. Still, she had never quite wanted to believe it. She read the headline again.
"Harold Potter Weds Rachael Browne"
Jan looked down at the caption below. There were those familiar glasses, that same unruly hair, that lopsided grin.there was Harold. He looked happy. Everyone around him was jumping, laughing, celebrating. His new wife, Rachael, looked absolutely radiant. Still, Harold kept looking off blankly every do often. Most people would guess it for wedding-day jitters, but Jan knew better.
She tucked the newspaper into her robes, and stood up. "Are you ready to get your wand, dear?"
They strolled up to Olivander's Wand shop, arriving just as Anna was finishing her ice cream cone. "Wait a second young lady!" Anna turned to her mother with a hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar expression. "Hands."
Anna held out her hands, palms up, and Jan tapped them with her wand. "You will not be getting your sticky ice cream mess all over the wand shop. Now, this is a very adult place. Most people only get their wands when they turn 11. I want you to be on your best behavior. You understand me?"
Anna nodded, and Jan smiled at her daughter. "Getting your wand is one of the most important events in a witch's or wizard's life. Plus, it's a lot of fun. Ready?" Jan took her daughter's hand, and together they walked into Olivander's.
"Hello? Hello.ACK!" Jan spun around has she heard a slight crash down one of the isles. "Are you ok?" she called out.
"Oh yes, quite alright, quite certainly." A strange man came stumbling out of the isle, carrying an armload of long, thin boxes. His hair was lightly peppered grey and seemed to grow in every direction at once. Eccentric wasn't even close to describing how peculiar this man was, but it was obvious to Jan that he was a perfectly suited individual to the task of working with wands. "Ah, the young lady is ready for her first wand, is she? Good day, Anna! My, this is unique. Which arm is your wand arm?"
Anna looked utterly confused, but Jan spoke up quickly. "Right arm, sir."
"Good, good. Must get her measurements." He pulled out a measuring tape and started measuring Anna's hand, then her arm, then he walked away and the tape kept right on taking measurements. Anna just stood there, speechless. Mr. Olivander came bustling back with a box. "Maple and Dragon Heartstring. Eight inches." He put the wand in her hand, and immediately removed it. "No, no. That won't do. Let's see here. Aha! Ash and Phoenix Feather, 11 ½ inches. No, no, not at all."
The pattern continued for quite some time. Jan suspected that Mr. Olivander would become irritated with the growing pile of unmatched wands, but he seemed to be more jubilant than when he had started. Finally, after "Rowan and Phoenix Feather, 9 ¼ inches," Mr. Olivander stopped and looked at Jan. "My dear, may I ask to see your wand for a moment?"
Jan reached into the inner pocket of her robes and pulled out her wand. She handed it to Mr. Olivander, who examined it with a look of great admiration on his face. "My, my. This is a splendid wand. Beautiful workmanship, 10 ½ inches, solid mahogany. . .but what's this? Raven feather, is it? And naturally, not just any raven."
He handed back Jan's wand, and disappeared to the far corner of the shop. He returned a moment later carrying a very dusty box. He opened it, and pulled out the wand. "Beech and Raven Feather. 12 ½ inches. Unless I miss my guess . . ." He placed the wand in Anna's outstretched hand. A warm glow formed around the wand and the girl's hand. A stream of light blue sparks spurted from the tip of the wand. Anna stared at the wand with a look of utter shock. Then her face slowly spread into a smile. She looked up at her mother. "Can I keep it?"
Jan laughed. "After all that, I certainly hope so!" Then she turned to Mr. Olivander. "If you don't mind my asking, what's so peculiar about that wand? And mine, for that matter?"
Olivander motioned for then to sit on a couple of stools. "Most ravens are simply larger crows, not particularly special at all. Then, a very long time ago, as legend has it, a particularly intelligent raven became enamored of a phoenix. Since then, there have been a group of ravens that cross that line between common animals and magical beasts. Native Americans have known this for centuries, and a few others have noticed something unusual about certain ravens, but most wizards are totally unaware. That's where all the lore surrounding ravens and magic comes from. You, my dear," he looked directly at Anna, and she tried not to flinch, "have a wand with a core from just such a raven, like your mother's. It's not always clear why a particular wand chooses a witch or wizard, but it is quite clear that you are a very unique young lady."
They emerged from the wand shop to meet Mimi, who had picked up some simple potions ingredients that Jan liked to keep on hand, and set a Portkey to take them to Newmarket. She had selected a site on the eastern edge of the town. The Portkey deposited them out of sight at 140 Centre Drive. Mimi immediately began squeaking about how many beautiful ways she could fix up the place. Jan looked at the cottage, and then down at Anna, who was clutching her hand tightly. She squeezed back, and said, "Welcome home, dear."
***********************************************************************
Harold untied his shoes and sat down in front of the fireplace. Rachael was fixing them both some tea in the kitchen of their new house. Their house, together, it was theirs. He sighed. He was glad the wedding was over, and surprisingly, he was glad the honeymoon was over too. He wanted to be at home, to relax, and to be comfortable for a change. He had courted Rachael for three wonderful years, and his mother had been ecstatic when they had gotten engaged. After his father had died, his mother had wanted nothing more than to be certain her only child was happy. He missed his father, but he knew his father was proud of him. He'd completed training as an Auror before his father had passed on, and since then, had been sent on a wide variety of missions based on his special expertise. If he never worked again, he would be comfortable for the rest of his life. Comfort . . . yes, he had comfort, for the first time ever. He laid his head back against the couch cushions, and closed his eyes.
He was walking through a small house. It was strangely familiar, not in the appearance, but there was an oddly familiar feeling in the air. He knew a magical family lived there, but it looked very much like a Muggle residence. He looked into a small bedroom. There were a few toys scattered on the floor. He turned around and walked towards what he thought was the exit. He moved to open the door, and realized he had very large, tawny paws, not hands. He shook his head, and shaggy golden fur whipped into his eyes. Strange. The door opened, and he stepped onto the front stoop. There was a young girl in the yard with black hair and glasses. My god, she looked familiar. He felt something touch his shoulder. There was a raven perched there. It looked at him quizzically, and then it was gone. He heard a noise behind him, and turned abruptly to see two dark, luminous eyes looking deep into his. He couldn't see the face, but those eyes . . . always those eyes. He heard a voice say his name, softly. "Harry? Harry. . ."
"Harold?" He opened his eyes, and Rachael was standing there, holding out a cup of tea. "Are you going to fall asleep that easily tonight?"
Harold blushed. "Did you call me Harry or Harold?"
"What?"
"I heard someone call my name, but the voice called me Harry. Nobody but the people I worked with in Salem called me that." He paused. "I miss it, I suppose."
"You were probably dreaming. If you like the nickname 'Harry' so much, why didn't you tell me?"
He laughed. "I figured it was just silly."
"Aha. Well, I'll come up with a few nicknames for you, and let's see how you respond, shall we?"
Harold smiled, but his mind was still caught by that dream. He remembered a raven, and he had been a lion. And then, of course, there were those eyes. This time, though, he remembered a little girl. There was something familiar about her, but the harder he tried to remember, the more details slipped out of his memory like sand in an hourglass.
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A/N: If you have questions, concerns, or anything, and want for me to reply, please leave me a review with an e-mail address, OR simple e-mail me at Jedi_Mijan@yahoo.com. I reply to all e-mails. And please, DO leave a review!
Prologue Part 2: The Living Dream
Harold stood by himself in front of a decorated altar, but he felt invisible. That was ok, because he was a nervous wreck. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead, his heart was pounding, and he was certain he would pass out soon. He looked out over a sea of faces, and made out the faces of his friends and his parents. What was his father doing there? That didn't make sense, somehow. Before he could ponder this further, everyone looked to the back of the room. He looked up to see the object of their attention, and was transfixed by a gorgeous woman dressed in stunningly elegant white robes slowly walking towards him. She stepped in time to unheard music, but her eyes looked right past his shoulder. He wanted her to see him, but she didn't. He knew he loved her, he was certainly supposed to love her, and she loved him, but why couldn't she see him?
He could feel the panic rising in his throat again, looking frantically over the crowd. Nobody saw him. His father looked at him briefly, but then he wasn't there anymore. His mother was weeping. Everyone else was still looking at the woman in the white robes. Was her name Jan? No. Where did that name come from? Her name is Rachael, he told himself, his fiancé. But why wasn't she looking at him? She was standing next to him now, but she couldn't see him. He looked around, and then back over the crowd. There, towards the back, a pair of eyes were staring straight at him, dark, deep eyes. Those were eyes that could look right through to his soul, and they kept looking. Those eyes saw him, everything about him. He tried to see the face, but there was a thick fog in the room. He called out, even though he didn't know the name he was calling. He heard someone answer, calling his name. "Harry? Harry!"
"Who? What? Huh?" Harold mumbled in his sleepiness. He was still fixed on the dream. Why did he always have those dreams, never quite identical, but it always felt the same. Always, there were those eyes.
"Harold! Wake up! You would be the person to miss his own wedding day by sleeping through it!" Gregory, his best man, was shaking his shoulder. "Rachael has been awake for hours! She can't believe I let you sleep this long."
Harold sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He grabbed his glasses and shoved them on to his face, watching the room come into focus. "Greg, what time is it?"
"It's nearly 10:00."
"Holy shit!" Harold grabbed his shower robe and made a mad dash towards his bedroom door, crashing headlong into one of the ushers. "Oof! James! You're here! You're ready? Oh my goodness . . . oh my . . . oh no . . . oh dear . . . oh, uh, I'll be right back." He continued his mad dash for the shower, leaving James in the doorway laughing at him.
James looked over at Gregory. "You know, you didn't have to do that."
"Do what?" asked Greg, looking too innocent.
"You know it's only 8:30."
"Yeah, but this way, he won't have time to get cold feet. Plus, it's the only way I can get him out the door without watching him fuss in the mirror for an hour, trying to get his hair to lie flat. You know it's never going to happen."
**********************************************************************
A knock on the door of Big Ed's office snapped him out of the daze he had been sitting in. He'd been sitting like that since a letter from Los Angeles's Headquarters had been dropped on his desk. Ed was used to good news. He was used to bad news. Ed wasn't accustomed to news he couldn't define. It all depended on Jan's reaction. "Come in."
"You wanted to see me?" A luminous pair of eyes was peering from around the edge of the door. "What's troubling you?"
"You don't miss a beat, do you?" He forced a quiet laugh, and motioned for her to sit down. "I got a letter from Intelligence on the west coast. Remember those Dark spies we were worried about? They still don't know who you are, but they managed to track you to here."
Jan nodded. She had known this was going to happen for some time. It was inevitable. She could keep running, without a home, using the Salem Headquarters as a base of operations until they managed to break the Dark spy ring, but with her daughter, that was impossible. The nature of her ability to spy had made it possible for her to work from her home. Only three people knew about her daughter. More specifically, only three people remembered her daughter. It was necessary, for their mutual safety. Ed knew, of course, as did the Mediwitch, Camille, who served as midwife during the delivery. Finally, Mimi also knew. She had been relieved, honorably, from her position at Headquarters and had attached her full loyalty to Jan and her daughter, Anna. She had been assigned to assist in caring for the child, and to be a companion, as it was too dangerous to have a witch or wizard doing the job. All those precautions they had taken had, in the long run, been ineffective. It was time to leave.
"How long do we have?" Jan asked without emotion.
"A day, at best." Ed sighed. "We still need you, but your safety, and Anna's, have to come first. Settle amongst muggles, home-train Anna. She'll understand when she's older. She's already such a bright girl."
They sat in silence for a moment, which was broken again by Ed. "Do you know where you'll go?"
"Actually, I had an idea, if you're willing to approve it."
"If I can make you happy, you know I will."
"I want to move to England."
This hadn't been unexpected, but England was a nexus of the wizarding world, not exactly the best place to keep a low profile. Ed left this unsaid, choosing to respond with, "You want to find him, don't you?"
"Even if I don't find him, or more likely, if I can't connect with him, if something happens to me, Mimi will find Harold, and bring Anna to him. She'll at least have a family there." Jan paused, and the tears that had been threatening to break her emotional shell finally spilled over. Ed walked over to her, and put an arm around her shoulders, holding her silently as her tears splashed onto his robes. Here was the strongest person he'd ever met, and she was sobbing unabashedly. What could he say? Now, she was being asked to uproot from what little family she had.
She stopped crying quickly, drying her face and resuming her normal composure. "I'll say my goodbyes, then I'll break all contacts." She looked at him imploringly. "What about you?"
Ed's face softened into a sympathetic smile. "You'll still have me, but I can't know exactly where you are. Have Bram find me if you need to make contact, but until this crisis is over, you can't come back. You always know it may not be just revenge they seek."
Jan nodded, and stood. There was no point in prolonging this any more. She wrapped her arms around him, a trace of a tear leaking from the corner of her eye. "I'll miss you."
**********************************************************************
The next morning, a weary woman, scared young girl, and a house-elf arrived in Diagon Alley. Their luggage had been shrunken and charmed for lightness, and was tucked into their robes. They had a lot to do that day. First, they had to stop at Gringotts to exchange some gold for Muggle money. She also needed some basic wizarding provisions for starting up a proper home, but everything she bought would have to blend into Muggle surroundings. Finally, Anna needed a wand. She was only 8, her 9th birthday coming up in two weeks, but if she was to be home-trained, they needed the wand sooner rather than later. They went about their errands, generally left to themselves by strangers. They finally sat down at lunch time to refresh themselves.
Jan looked across the table at her daughter. She could always see Harold's face in her daughter's. The way her nose turned, the quirk in her eyebrows, the wavy, black hair that never stayed put were all so reminiscent of the father she had never known. "Mommy, are you ok?"
"Oh, yes dear, yes I am. Mommy was just thinking about someone she hasn't seen for a long time." That would satisfy a normal eight-year-old girl, but not Anna.
"You're thinking about Daddy, aren't you?"
Jan smiled and sighed. What do you do with a daughter who can read your mind? You tell her the absolute truth, just as she always had.
"Yes, I am sweetheart. But now, it's time for dessert! Ice cream perhaps? And after that, I've got a special surprise that even you don't know about yet!"
"What's that mom?"
"You're getting your wand today."
Anna's face broadened into an unstoppable smile, and her thoughts drifted off to happier things. Jan picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet someone had left and started skimming the headlines. She was just starting to relax under the midday sun when her breath caught in her throat. She knew it could happen. She had told herself it probably would. Still, she had never quite wanted to believe it. She read the headline again.
"Harold Potter Weds Rachael Browne"
Jan looked down at the caption below. There were those familiar glasses, that same unruly hair, that lopsided grin.there was Harold. He looked happy. Everyone around him was jumping, laughing, celebrating. His new wife, Rachael, looked absolutely radiant. Still, Harold kept looking off blankly every do often. Most people would guess it for wedding-day jitters, but Jan knew better.
She tucked the newspaper into her robes, and stood up. "Are you ready to get your wand, dear?"
They strolled up to Olivander's Wand shop, arriving just as Anna was finishing her ice cream cone. "Wait a second young lady!" Anna turned to her mother with a hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar expression. "Hands."
Anna held out her hands, palms up, and Jan tapped them with her wand. "You will not be getting your sticky ice cream mess all over the wand shop. Now, this is a very adult place. Most people only get their wands when they turn 11. I want you to be on your best behavior. You understand me?"
Anna nodded, and Jan smiled at her daughter. "Getting your wand is one of the most important events in a witch's or wizard's life. Plus, it's a lot of fun. Ready?" Jan took her daughter's hand, and together they walked into Olivander's.
"Hello? Hello.ACK!" Jan spun around has she heard a slight crash down one of the isles. "Are you ok?" she called out.
"Oh yes, quite alright, quite certainly." A strange man came stumbling out of the isle, carrying an armload of long, thin boxes. His hair was lightly peppered grey and seemed to grow in every direction at once. Eccentric wasn't even close to describing how peculiar this man was, but it was obvious to Jan that he was a perfectly suited individual to the task of working with wands. "Ah, the young lady is ready for her first wand, is she? Good day, Anna! My, this is unique. Which arm is your wand arm?"
Anna looked utterly confused, but Jan spoke up quickly. "Right arm, sir."
"Good, good. Must get her measurements." He pulled out a measuring tape and started measuring Anna's hand, then her arm, then he walked away and the tape kept right on taking measurements. Anna just stood there, speechless. Mr. Olivander came bustling back with a box. "Maple and Dragon Heartstring. Eight inches." He put the wand in her hand, and immediately removed it. "No, no. That won't do. Let's see here. Aha! Ash and Phoenix Feather, 11 ½ inches. No, no, not at all."
The pattern continued for quite some time. Jan suspected that Mr. Olivander would become irritated with the growing pile of unmatched wands, but he seemed to be more jubilant than when he had started. Finally, after "Rowan and Phoenix Feather, 9 ¼ inches," Mr. Olivander stopped and looked at Jan. "My dear, may I ask to see your wand for a moment?"
Jan reached into the inner pocket of her robes and pulled out her wand. She handed it to Mr. Olivander, who examined it with a look of great admiration on his face. "My, my. This is a splendid wand. Beautiful workmanship, 10 ½ inches, solid mahogany. . .but what's this? Raven feather, is it? And naturally, not just any raven."
He handed back Jan's wand, and disappeared to the far corner of the shop. He returned a moment later carrying a very dusty box. He opened it, and pulled out the wand. "Beech and Raven Feather. 12 ½ inches. Unless I miss my guess . . ." He placed the wand in Anna's outstretched hand. A warm glow formed around the wand and the girl's hand. A stream of light blue sparks spurted from the tip of the wand. Anna stared at the wand with a look of utter shock. Then her face slowly spread into a smile. She looked up at her mother. "Can I keep it?"
Jan laughed. "After all that, I certainly hope so!" Then she turned to Mr. Olivander. "If you don't mind my asking, what's so peculiar about that wand? And mine, for that matter?"
Olivander motioned for then to sit on a couple of stools. "Most ravens are simply larger crows, not particularly special at all. Then, a very long time ago, as legend has it, a particularly intelligent raven became enamored of a phoenix. Since then, there have been a group of ravens that cross that line between common animals and magical beasts. Native Americans have known this for centuries, and a few others have noticed something unusual about certain ravens, but most wizards are totally unaware. That's where all the lore surrounding ravens and magic comes from. You, my dear," he looked directly at Anna, and she tried not to flinch, "have a wand with a core from just such a raven, like your mother's. It's not always clear why a particular wand chooses a witch or wizard, but it is quite clear that you are a very unique young lady."
They emerged from the wand shop to meet Mimi, who had picked up some simple potions ingredients that Jan liked to keep on hand, and set a Portkey to take them to Newmarket. She had selected a site on the eastern edge of the town. The Portkey deposited them out of sight at 140 Centre Drive. Mimi immediately began squeaking about how many beautiful ways she could fix up the place. Jan looked at the cottage, and then down at Anna, who was clutching her hand tightly. She squeezed back, and said, "Welcome home, dear."
***********************************************************************
Harold untied his shoes and sat down in front of the fireplace. Rachael was fixing them both some tea in the kitchen of their new house. Their house, together, it was theirs. He sighed. He was glad the wedding was over, and surprisingly, he was glad the honeymoon was over too. He wanted to be at home, to relax, and to be comfortable for a change. He had courted Rachael for three wonderful years, and his mother had been ecstatic when they had gotten engaged. After his father had died, his mother had wanted nothing more than to be certain her only child was happy. He missed his father, but he knew his father was proud of him. He'd completed training as an Auror before his father had passed on, and since then, had been sent on a wide variety of missions based on his special expertise. If he never worked again, he would be comfortable for the rest of his life. Comfort . . . yes, he had comfort, for the first time ever. He laid his head back against the couch cushions, and closed his eyes.
He was walking through a small house. It was strangely familiar, not in the appearance, but there was an oddly familiar feeling in the air. He knew a magical family lived there, but it looked very much like a Muggle residence. He looked into a small bedroom. There were a few toys scattered on the floor. He turned around and walked towards what he thought was the exit. He moved to open the door, and realized he had very large, tawny paws, not hands. He shook his head, and shaggy golden fur whipped into his eyes. Strange. The door opened, and he stepped onto the front stoop. There was a young girl in the yard with black hair and glasses. My god, she looked familiar. He felt something touch his shoulder. There was a raven perched there. It looked at him quizzically, and then it was gone. He heard a noise behind him, and turned abruptly to see two dark, luminous eyes looking deep into his. He couldn't see the face, but those eyes . . . always those eyes. He heard a voice say his name, softly. "Harry? Harry. . ."
"Harold?" He opened his eyes, and Rachael was standing there, holding out a cup of tea. "Are you going to fall asleep that easily tonight?"
Harold blushed. "Did you call me Harry or Harold?"
"What?"
"I heard someone call my name, but the voice called me Harry. Nobody but the people I worked with in Salem called me that." He paused. "I miss it, I suppose."
"You were probably dreaming. If you like the nickname 'Harry' so much, why didn't you tell me?"
He laughed. "I figured it was just silly."
"Aha. Well, I'll come up with a few nicknames for you, and let's see how you respond, shall we?"
Harold smiled, but his mind was still caught by that dream. He remembered a raven, and he had been a lion. And then, of course, there were those eyes. This time, though, he remembered a little girl. There was something familiar about her, but the harder he tried to remember, the more details slipped out of his memory like sand in an hourglass.
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A/N: If you have questions, concerns, or anything, and want for me to reply, please leave me a review with an e-mail address, OR simple e-mail me at Jedi_Mijan@yahoo.com. I reply to all e-mails. And please, DO leave a review!
