Disclaimer: I don't own the characters in this story or anything.
This story may be the same as the normal version but it will have differences. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After Harry had graduated from Hogwarts, everything had changed for him. His friends moved away from England and Dumbledore had died of a heart attack. Voldemort had been defeated and all his followers were either dead or in Askaban. Harry had lost total contact to the Wizarding world, since his owl Hedwig had died one night when she had gone out to fly and his uncle didn't let Harry out of his sight.
He had changed over the years, he had cut his hair to just above his ears and when Voldemort had been defeated, his lighting shaped scar had faded leaving his forehead clear.
But one day he did get out and went to London buying a new owl and published his own book 'Harry Potter's younger years.' Even though he put everything into it, it wasn't a success. Even after so many letters he'd sent to his friends, he never got a reply.
When he was eighteen he went back to his Uncle's after he received a letter saying his aunt, Petunia, had died along with his cousin Dudley. He entered the house to find it cold and it seemed empty.
"Uncle Vernon?" He shouted, putting his bags down.
He looked into the kitchen, living room and the bedroom.
"Uncle Vernon?" He shouted again.
He looked into the bedroom that his aunt and uncle had shared and there he was. Sitting on the bed, hugging what looked like an Action man with its head broke off.
"Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked.
The man looked up and didn't look like the person Harry had left behind only a few months ago. His moustache had grown to a beard and his hair was frizzed up and turning grey.
"Oh, its you. You know I bought this for Dudley for his birthday when he was five. Longest toy he'd kept and didn't break it until he was 7." Harry looked down and sighed.
"Uncle Vernon, do you think you'll be alright on your own?"
The older man nodded.
"Just come and check I'm not dead every so often."
"Yes, bye."
Month's later Harry had decided. He was going to a place called Montemar to get the inspiration to write a book. He went to his uncle making sure that he'd be ok while he was gone but it hadn't gone at all well.
Weeks later he was boarding a train at King's Cross (Not magical) to Paris. He had got on the train, found a compartment and sat down, setting down his suitcase. He didn't get many people except the woman, who pushed the food trolley and a young girl with a child in her arms, her face covered up with a hooded cloak. The girl didn't talk so Harry didn't push it.
He would buy the occasional 'Mars Bar' from the food trolley and look at the sights the train would past. The train had a little breakdown on the track halfway through the journey, but was soon up and running. After a while the girl left the compartment and came back with no child. He didn't ask but the girl looked up at him when he moved nearer the window.
"What?" She asked, quietly. He looked at her and almost nearly gasped. She was looking up at him and the cloak had been pulled off. Her eyes were almost red but it didn't show because of all the black make up she wore under the hood. She wore a white cotton dress with rips here and there and a blue corset, holding it in place around her middle. Her curled blonde hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, emphazing (I don't know how the spell the word) the curls that reached her waist. He was sure he'd seen that face before,
"Fleur?" She looked up and nodded.
"Yes?"
"Hi, I'm Harry Potter." He smiled at her, but when she returned it she hugged him tightly.
"Harry Potter! Oh I am zo glad I came on this train now. Where are you going? Are you going to Montemar?" She asked looking excited.
"Yes, Where are you going?" He nodded.
"Oh, I am going to ze Moulin Rouge." She said, losing a bit of her happiness and looked out of the window.
"Moulin Rouge?" He asked.
"Yes, it's a sort of Wizard night-club in Montemar." He looked outside and after a few minutes he asked cautiously, turning his head to look at her.
"What was that thing you were carrying earlier?" Fleur's eyes glazed over and tears began to slowly slid down her cheeks.
"My baby. My dear sweet child. My baby from the streets of London." She muttered.
Harry looked to her and noticed blood on her dress and suddenly he knew what Fleur had been doing in London. He sighed and kept his watch over the sights that they would past for the rest of the journey.
When the train finally came to a stop, Fleur rushed towards the door but Harry was too quick for her and grabbed her arm. She looked up at him and her eyes started to glaze over again.
"Nice seeing you, Fleur." He smiled. She smiled and hugged him, then turned out of the compartment. Harry looked out of the window only to see a hooded figure turn a corner. Just then Harry decided. He would go to the Moulin Rouge!
This story may be the same as the normal version but it will have differences. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After Harry had graduated from Hogwarts, everything had changed for him. His friends moved away from England and Dumbledore had died of a heart attack. Voldemort had been defeated and all his followers were either dead or in Askaban. Harry had lost total contact to the Wizarding world, since his owl Hedwig had died one night when she had gone out to fly and his uncle didn't let Harry out of his sight.
He had changed over the years, he had cut his hair to just above his ears and when Voldemort had been defeated, his lighting shaped scar had faded leaving his forehead clear.
But one day he did get out and went to London buying a new owl and published his own book 'Harry Potter's younger years.' Even though he put everything into it, it wasn't a success. Even after so many letters he'd sent to his friends, he never got a reply.
When he was eighteen he went back to his Uncle's after he received a letter saying his aunt, Petunia, had died along with his cousin Dudley. He entered the house to find it cold and it seemed empty.
"Uncle Vernon?" He shouted, putting his bags down.
He looked into the kitchen, living room and the bedroom.
"Uncle Vernon?" He shouted again.
He looked into the bedroom that his aunt and uncle had shared and there he was. Sitting on the bed, hugging what looked like an Action man with its head broke off.
"Uncle Vernon?" Harry asked.
The man looked up and didn't look like the person Harry had left behind only a few months ago. His moustache had grown to a beard and his hair was frizzed up and turning grey.
"Oh, its you. You know I bought this for Dudley for his birthday when he was five. Longest toy he'd kept and didn't break it until he was 7." Harry looked down and sighed.
"Uncle Vernon, do you think you'll be alright on your own?"
The older man nodded.
"Just come and check I'm not dead every so often."
"Yes, bye."
Month's later Harry had decided. He was going to a place called Montemar to get the inspiration to write a book. He went to his uncle making sure that he'd be ok while he was gone but it hadn't gone at all well.
Weeks later he was boarding a train at King's Cross (Not magical) to Paris. He had got on the train, found a compartment and sat down, setting down his suitcase. He didn't get many people except the woman, who pushed the food trolley and a young girl with a child in her arms, her face covered up with a hooded cloak. The girl didn't talk so Harry didn't push it.
He would buy the occasional 'Mars Bar' from the food trolley and look at the sights the train would past. The train had a little breakdown on the track halfway through the journey, but was soon up and running. After a while the girl left the compartment and came back with no child. He didn't ask but the girl looked up at him when he moved nearer the window.
"What?" She asked, quietly. He looked at her and almost nearly gasped. She was looking up at him and the cloak had been pulled off. Her eyes were almost red but it didn't show because of all the black make up she wore under the hood. She wore a white cotton dress with rips here and there and a blue corset, holding it in place around her middle. Her curled blonde hair was pulled into a loose ponytail, emphazing (I don't know how the spell the word) the curls that reached her waist. He was sure he'd seen that face before,
"Fleur?" She looked up and nodded.
"Yes?"
"Hi, I'm Harry Potter." He smiled at her, but when she returned it she hugged him tightly.
"Harry Potter! Oh I am zo glad I came on this train now. Where are you going? Are you going to Montemar?" She asked looking excited.
"Yes, Where are you going?" He nodded.
"Oh, I am going to ze Moulin Rouge." She said, losing a bit of her happiness and looked out of the window.
"Moulin Rouge?" He asked.
"Yes, it's a sort of Wizard night-club in Montemar." He looked outside and after a few minutes he asked cautiously, turning his head to look at her.
"What was that thing you were carrying earlier?" Fleur's eyes glazed over and tears began to slowly slid down her cheeks.
"My baby. My dear sweet child. My baby from the streets of London." She muttered.
Harry looked to her and noticed blood on her dress and suddenly he knew what Fleur had been doing in London. He sighed and kept his watch over the sights that they would past for the rest of the journey.
When the train finally came to a stop, Fleur rushed towards the door but Harry was too quick for her and grabbed her arm. She looked up at him and her eyes started to glaze over again.
"Nice seeing you, Fleur." He smiled. She smiled and hugged him, then turned out of the compartment. Harry looked out of the window only to see a hooded figure turn a corner. Just then Harry decided. He would go to the Moulin Rouge!