Response to reviews:
Only Secret: Thanks girl, keep writing too, 'kay? And I NEVER rush my work!
Kitty minky: Hey, thanks! There's probably going to be fast updating with this story, because I want to finish this right smack on Valentine's Day (hey, it is the season of love, ya' know). So get ready for author alert damage! …And I know you won't steal it, because anyone who does won't be a favorite reviewer of mine! Hehehe…
Theglasspen: Thanks for taking the time to review…as well as taking the time to criticize me! I'll be careful with the eye thing, although can SOMEONE out there tell me how to keep someone 'unknowable-although-everyone-actually-knows-but-it-wouldn't-be-a-good-story-if-I-didn't-keep-the-character-unknowable' without just using the words 'dark', 'shadow' and the eye-thing! Please help; it's my first time writing something that's not a one-shot!
JJ CJ: You actually encouraged me to START UPDATING…as I was actually being a tad lazy with this thing -twirls thumbs and looks HIGH up- so yeah…
Okay guys, thanks for reviewing me! Hope you continue reviewing! And give me suggestions if you want to…if you're scared I'll kill you, send it to my email address, 'cause a. I love hearing from you guys, and b. I'm more relaxed at my email.
ON WITH THE STORY…
Oh wait…one more thing. The disclaimer will not be repeated as I did that once in the first chapter, and I'm not doing it again.
Recommendations are The Depths of Winter by bananacosmicgirl
And…The Next Ten Minutes by Goddess Blue.
The former being deep and philosophical and entirely wonderful, and the latter being totally fluffy and cry-free!
/actions outside of letter/ (you'll get what I mean)
(Author's notes)
-Anime actions-
Thoughts/emphasis/spells/sounds
Letter/emphasis in thoughts
Emphasis
Whew…now really…on with the story!
Chapter 2: "Follow thine owl."
Love—is anterior to Life—
Posterior—to Death—
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth— By Emily Dickinson.
"Ron…" said person rolled over, grunting softly.
"Ron…" said person pulled a blanket above his head.
"RON!" said person started, rolling out of bed.
"What? What! Quaffle? Snitch? Where's it!"
Harry looked at him, half in amusement, half in sceptism.
Finally, he decided on amusement –living with Ron for almost the equivalent of six years ensured that he would certainly believe the reality of the situation.
"Come on. It's breakfast," he said, walking out of the dormitory. Then smiled, as he heard Ron's yell and consequent 'thump'.
Three minutes later, the gang was at breakfast.
Ron was chewing, munching, chowing down…you name the eating habit, he does it.
Hermione was studying.
Seamus and Dean were snuggling.
Neville was openly staring at Ginny.
Ginny was giggling to her friends about Neville.
And Harry was buttering his toast.
"Post is here!"
A fluttering of owls was heard.
Harry continued buttering his toast.
A quiet plop was heard directly in front of him. Surprised, he looked in front.
A single scroll with silver-gilded edges sat in front of him, neatly tied up with a satin ribbon in the darkest of ebony. A lone tag with a black string hung from the ribbon.
Harry considered briefly on asking whose letter it was really for, until he read the tag.
To: Harry Potter.
Frowning slightly, yet with a spark of anticipation, he untied the ribbon carefully. Unrolling the scroll, he read…
Dear Harry, /Harry looked around with a watchful eye/
I am sorry to say that I have fallen in love with you /Harry raised his eyebrows/.
That's interesting. Usually they skip the apologies and go straight to the declarations of undying love, he thought sarcastically.
I am also sorry to say that, unlike the rest of the –what I personally call 'mob' but 'idiots' will do– think or believe, I myself actually care for you. /Harry raised his eyebrows yet again/.
I know you won't believe me. I can only hope that you will do me a small favor. I'd like you to follow a little quest of mine.
Please oblige, as it is the only thing I will ever request from you.
Your…secret? Admirer.
/Harry turned over the letter/.
Follow thine owl
White feathers caress
As I'd like to do…
My heart will define.
The letter ended.
Harry breathed.
The letter was different. Different to any other love letter he'd ever received. And he'd received many.
It was sarcastic –but caring. Affectionate, with a spice of seduction.
Harry smiled.
Harry frowned.
He wondered if he should go. Deatheaters, after all, were still about…
But wouldn't it be a rather elaborate plan, if so? A chance on chance that he would accept…
Perhaps he would bring Ron along? To where, though? He shook his head. He'd find that out later.
For now, it was Potions…
"10 points off Gryffindor!" Snape hissed.
It was the average potions lesson, with Snape taking points off Gryffindor as usual.
Harry signed. He continued mixing his potions. A few seconds passed, then…
"Potter!"
Harry looked up, startled. His elbow jerked, spilling the poison dart frog's legs.
"20 points from Gryffindor for spilling precious ingredients," Snape said smoothly.
"WHAT!" Rom could be heard from across the classroom. "But those things cost less than…!"
"And twenty more for disrupting my lesson," said Snape sharply, without missing a beat.
Ron growled.
Harry glowered
Snape smiled with overbearing triumph.
The bell rang.
And the pair walked out fuming.
Hermione hurried after them... "Oh come on, Ron, it wasn't that bad."
"Yes it was!" Ron yelled furiously. "It was unfair! Wasn't it, Harry?"
Harry continued walking.
"Harry?"
Harry's eyes narrowed.
His two friends exchanged looks. They ran to catch up.
"Harry, is there something wrong?"
Their friend continued walking.
"Harry?"
Harry calmly slammed open a door.
"Okay…" Ron said nervously. Hermione flinched. "We'll…we'll leave you alone, then?"
Harry walked up the stairs.
"Al-alright then…" Ron gulped. He looked at Hermione. They headed downstairs.
It was going to be a long day…
Harry walked, fuming, to the Gryffindor boys' dorm. He flopped onto his bed.
How dare Snape do that to him! It wasn't just, and was certainly unfounded. Didn't he know what the word 'accident' meant!
He buried his face into the pillows, sulking. Feeling something in his pockets, he reached up. A crumpled piece of paper touched his hand, and he unfolded it slowly.
Reading, he stopped. Should I go? He thought. Maybe I should…at least someone would be happy.
He got up and walked out the door.
But what if something happens? What if Deatheaters really do come? He wandered along the corridors, thinking.
Should I? Should I not?He crept past portraits, and statues, towards the owlery.
'Follow thine owl' Where else would Hedwig go?He stopped –an old rusty-looking wooden door blocking his path. It seemed to require his final decision.
Go on, it seemed to say…Open me…
Making up his mind, he pushed the door open. Seeing Hedwig poised on a roof beam, he whistled, calling her down.
She opened a single, golden eye.
Then, to Harry's complete astonishment, stayed put.
"Hedwig!" he called again. Again, she ignored him.
Breathing slightly harsh from the shouts, he frowned in frustration.
"Accio Firebolt." Jumping on the broomstick, he rose to meet his owl –ready to give her a talking to.
Only to find her eyes staring back at his with complete and utter ire.
"H-Hedwig?"
She did not move.
Harry, taken aback, scratched his head in confusion. "Hedwig? What's the matter?"
The snow owl did not move.
"Is something wrong?" he asked gently. The owl's eyes softened, then hardened.
Harry, still determined, kept crooning. "Come on, girl, you can tell me anything."
Hedwig seemed in indecision.
She looked at Harry's pleading eyes.
Giving a pigeon-like coo, she flew to Harry's neck, settling there, and nibbling on his ear.
Harry stroked her neck softly. "There, there, why didn't you come? It's alright…"
Slightly, he turned around. Then gasped.
Hedwig's nest was completely full of soft white feathers that seemed to be her own. However, it wasn't this that Harry was gasping at.
In the nest, were three white eggs. He gaped.
He reached out to touch them…
Then stopped. He looked at Hedwig questioningly.
"Can I touch them?" he whispered.
She hesitated, then crooned again.
Harry smiled, and reached. His fingers touched the warm shell, and the smile grew. He stroked them, gently.
His fingers felt something hard.
He jerked his hand away, shocked. Then peering closer, he gasped. Behind the eggs, was a tiny scroll, tied by black satin, like a miniature version of the one he'd received this morning. And beside the scroll was a smallish box, the corner of which he'd unknowingly touched.
Picking them up, he dislodged Hedwig, who flew back into her nest gladly.
Staring disbelievingly, he looked at Hedwig, then back at the items he held in his hands. He opened the present, his hands shaking.
Inside, was a single box, carved in dark, dark wood. The decorations, Harry saw, as he looked closer, consisted of a wolf, a dog, a deer and a doe. His eyes stared in shock.
Running his fingers over the decorations, he gasped. The animals had transformed, becoming a long haired woman, and three young men.
A teardrop fell onto the wood.
Hastily, he brushed them away, and looked at the lock. At his touch, it sprang open, revealing an open area for storage. An origami swan sat in the midst of creamy white velvet.
Suddenly, the room filled with music.
He closed his eyes.
The song reminded him of faraway, an illusion of childhood, laughter, innocence. It reminded him of love.
It reminded him of his parents.
It was his lullaby.
Shakingly, his vision blurred by tears, he started to read the gold writing on the lid of the box.
'Love—is anterior to Life—
Posterior—to Death—
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth—'
Harry broke down.
Sobs echoed throughout the owlery, as Harry let the tears go. He could not help it. He had almost forgotten this.
After Remus had been named Harry's guardian after Sirius had died, Harry had stayed in Hogwarts in the holidays, as it had been long since proven that his relatives were abusing him. One day, finding the castle unusually empty, and thoughts bombarded with everything that seemed to connect to Sirius, he'd gone to Remus.
He'd known that Sirius and Remus were –Harry bitterly corrected himself –had been together as a couple. So why wasn't Remus in mourning? In confusion and bitterness, he'd distanced himself from the werewolf. Now he wanted just to know why. Why it was that way…
Knocking on the door, and silently allowed to enter, he sat himself nervously on an old comfortable stool.
After a few cups of tea, and a long silence, he'd finally asked his professor the question.
"Why aren't you in mourning?"
Remus had been startled. Then the golden brown eyes had softened, and he'd looked out the window.
"When we were at war, Sirius used to say to me 'If I die, I'll be on the other side. It's just a tad of waiting.'
We'd laugh, but secretly I dreaded that it would come true. Then one day, he sat me down, and read me this quote from a muggle book."
He paused.
"It was 'Love—is anterior to Life—
Posterior—to Death—
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth—' It was by a muggle author named Emily Dickinson."
He smiled.
"I think I cried that night, 'cause I realized how true it was, and also how much I wanted him to be by my side."
He smiled, golden eyes shining with something that Harry could not define.
"Harry, do you know, I can sometimes see him? He comes to me, and sits there, by the fire, and looks at me every so often…he never says, 'cause I think he's afraid to wake me up, but I know. And I know he's waiting…he's waiting for me, Harry. That's why I'm not sad."
Harry had cried then too.
Hedwig flew to her master's side, nudging the crook of his neck with her beak.
After a few moments, he wiped the teardrops from his face. He flew down to the hard, creaking floorboards of the owlery.
For a moment, he thought that he'd heard his godfathers whispering to him.
He turned around, looking out the window.
He smiled brightly, then went out of the room.
The moon was full tonight.
" 'Love—is anterior to Life—
Posterior—to Death—
Initial of Creation, and
The Exponent of Earth—' "