Well; Chapter one everyone.
Not much to say I suppose.
Go read!
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She smiled uneasily, taking a deep breath she said,
"Pansy..Pansy Parkinson."
Harry's eyes went wide, Pansy Parkinson..now he remembered where he had seen that face!
Although the young women sitting in front of him had long wavey black hair, the girl he knew back then had short chin length hair.
He wasn't at all angry to see her, in fact he was quite shocked.
"And what do I owe the pleasure of you being here today?"
"Um.." she slowly began.
She had forgotten! Through all the haze to state her name she forgot the reason to be here in this boys home.
But one look at that photo sent her straight back to knowing.
She bit her lip lightly, as she reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a fancy envolope and slid it slowly across the table.
He stared at the envolpe for which seemed like a decade but soon picked it up and turned it over. The letter was sealed with wax, deep green wax to be precious. But this wasnt any deep green wax, imprinted into the wax was a hand crafted serpent, and Harry and her both knew what this meant. Harry had seen this wax many times before.
He did nothing but stare at the wax, not knowing if he should open it or give it back.
"Open it..please?"
His eyes jerked up to meet hers. Brown into green, green into brown.
Turning the letter over in his hands he finally tore the wax into two sperate places.
Reaching in he pulled out a white folded card, which on the front read.
'Wishing you will attened'
Harry raised a firm eyebrow.
'Wishing to attend what?' he had thought to himself.
He slowly opened the letter, scanning it quickly he felt his heart drop.
Was this a joke? Some cruel, sick joke?
His eyes turned dark and she could see the glint of hurt in his eyes.
Dare he ask?
"Is this a joke?"
Somehow she knew this was coming.
She frowned slightly shaking her head.
"You excpect me to go? Excpect me to see him..after everything? To go..and celebrate this..this.."
"Say it..I deserve whatever you have to say to me."
He shook his head.
"This is bullshit. You couldnt have expected me to actually go?"
"I'm not sure what..I..It was a worth a try. Even knowing how you'd react."
He could feel the tears starting to swell in his eyes. This wasn't funny..it was never funny..
"You bitch."
She winced a little and nodded.
"I deserve that."
"You think..you can come here..come into my home. My sanctuary, and..do this to me! This is low, even for you."
He was now yelling without meaning to.
"It wasn't meant to be like that!"
She retorted yelling back.
Tears were streaming down both faces.
He wanted to tell her to leave. To go and never come back here again, but he couldn't, he needed to know everything.
He breathed deeply trying to calm himself down while wipeing at his eyes with the back of his hand.
She hung her head as tears silently streamed down her face.
She whispered and he almost didn't hear her.
"It wasnt suppose to be like this Harry..I..we..never wanted to hurt you with this. We thought maybe..I thought maybe..Maybe I thought wrong..I don't know what I was trying to do here..or trying to prove to you..or even myself..I just know..it felt right..and it still does..You can hate me Harry..you can never forgive me. I will understand, I always understood that. But don't hate him..It was never his fault.."
"He never had to love you."
He muttered coldly.
"I admit..that was his choice..but..If i hadn't..you know the story..Harry don't hate him for the things I've done. For the mess I've created, It was never his or your fault. I don't expect forgiveness..I just..wish you'd see him."
"I think it's time for you to go.."
He said rising to his feet a little too quickly.
She slowly got to her feet.
"Please..think about it Harry?"
He walked her over to the door and opened it as soft snow fluttered into the room.
A storm was coming.
She passed through the door quietly and turned to face the older man.
He gave her this sad hurt look as he shut the door leaving her standing in the coldness of the dawing night.
He turned to the table and stared at the letter, tears already running down his cheeks. He turned away and sat down beside his boxes picking up a single photograph.
In this picture he was wearing the hand knitted sweater Mrs. Weasley had made him, with the stiched on Quidditch snitch. And he had his arms around the smaller blonde haired boy.
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Chapter 1 end!
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Side notes; I bet you are all starting to piece things together;
eh eh.
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