Hermione, Ron, and Harry chattered on and on, leaving Desiree alone
drifting in and out of her thoughts. The trio didn't seem to notice her,
and Desiree preferred it that way. Even today, her most anticipated moment
in her life, her mind was elsewhere.
Her thoughts drifted to the man who had helped create her, and yet also ruined the lives of so many others. Her mother cried often at night, when she thought Desiree had gone to bed, but Desiree always heard the sorrowful sobbing for her father.
No one knew who she really was, and it fell heavy on her heart. Voldemort, not Tom Riddle, was the man they hated, not her father. As long as she remembered that she could live with out guilt.
The three bubbled over a new broomstick in the window, as Desiree Falcon sat on a bench with her mind on her father. Ron took a hold of Hermione's hand and pulled her unwillingly into the shop. Harry still confused with this person whom his dreams had followed for weeks sat down next to her upon the bench.
"You know I dreamt of you," Harry said the words, before he thought, and when they were out, he only wanted them back in.
"You're a very straight forward person."
"I try."
"Good."
'Causal human talk, a guy tries to get ya in bed somehow, his way in just kind of a bit creepier right?' Desiree wondered what her father's worst enemy was thinking and why he chose to start a conversation with her with an eerie vibe.
"Why are you joining now?"
"I'll be like you... an evil force was searching for me and I had to go all WPP and hide!"
"WPP?"
"Witness Protection Program."
"Very Nice."
"I'm learning."
"I got that."
'So she thinks I'm joking! Well, at least she doesn't think I'm a lunatic. Yes Harry, think positive.' Harry keeping a friendly demeanor smiled and inside frowned. 'What would anyone want with her?'
"So what is it like being the FAMOUS Harry Potter?"
"Well you know, lots of fan mail and death threats from Voldemort."
"Wow I WISH I were you!"
"Oh yah, being me is the best!"
"You sure got the self-loving part in!"
"You don't?"
"No, I haven't picked up on it yet."
"It took me years."
"That hard?!?"
"Completely!"
'He's nice... I guess for the kid who killed my father; after my father killed his parents, but still... Am I flirting with him?'
"So you lived in America?"
"Oh yah, go good ol' US of A!"
"Got that pride going one."
"Yep, Uncle Sammy rules all."
"You sure about that?"
"Utterly sure."
'I'm flirting with her! God, stop it. She probably thinks you want to shag her, whom I don't, yah, I don't! Better stop talking, and thinking while I'm at it.'
"So..."
"Yah..."
"I should probably go met with my mom."
"So should I... except met with Ron and Hermione."
"So..."
"Goodbye."
"Later."
'God! You're such a freak Desiree!'
"Harry! You should have thought of SOMETHING to say besides 'Goodbye!''
Her thoughts drifted to the man who had helped create her, and yet also ruined the lives of so many others. Her mother cried often at night, when she thought Desiree had gone to bed, but Desiree always heard the sorrowful sobbing for her father.
No one knew who she really was, and it fell heavy on her heart. Voldemort, not Tom Riddle, was the man they hated, not her father. As long as she remembered that she could live with out guilt.
The three bubbled over a new broomstick in the window, as Desiree Falcon sat on a bench with her mind on her father. Ron took a hold of Hermione's hand and pulled her unwillingly into the shop. Harry still confused with this person whom his dreams had followed for weeks sat down next to her upon the bench.
"You know I dreamt of you," Harry said the words, before he thought, and when they were out, he only wanted them back in.
"You're a very straight forward person."
"I try."
"Good."
'Causal human talk, a guy tries to get ya in bed somehow, his way in just kind of a bit creepier right?' Desiree wondered what her father's worst enemy was thinking and why he chose to start a conversation with her with an eerie vibe.
"Why are you joining now?"
"I'll be like you... an evil force was searching for me and I had to go all WPP and hide!"
"WPP?"
"Witness Protection Program."
"Very Nice."
"I'm learning."
"I got that."
'So she thinks I'm joking! Well, at least she doesn't think I'm a lunatic. Yes Harry, think positive.' Harry keeping a friendly demeanor smiled and inside frowned. 'What would anyone want with her?'
"So what is it like being the FAMOUS Harry Potter?"
"Well you know, lots of fan mail and death threats from Voldemort."
"Wow I WISH I were you!"
"Oh yah, being me is the best!"
"You sure got the self-loving part in!"
"You don't?"
"No, I haven't picked up on it yet."
"It took me years."
"That hard?!?"
"Completely!"
'He's nice... I guess for the kid who killed my father; after my father killed his parents, but still... Am I flirting with him?'
"So you lived in America?"
"Oh yah, go good ol' US of A!"
"Got that pride going one."
"Yep, Uncle Sammy rules all."
"You sure about that?"
"Utterly sure."
'I'm flirting with her! God, stop it. She probably thinks you want to shag her, whom I don't, yah, I don't! Better stop talking, and thinking while I'm at it.'
"So..."
"Yah..."
"I should probably go met with my mom."
"So should I... except met with Ron and Hermione."
"So..."
"Goodbye."
"Later."
'God! You're such a freak Desiree!'
"Harry! You should have thought of SOMETHING to say besides 'Goodbye!''