Vi: Let's just say Aimee Carlisle has seen many things and there are not many that would surprise her. it's kinda funny I had a slide splitting headache writing it. ahhh...rampaging hippogryffs.

cheers all, MB


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I do have take credit for plot and for certain character originale...bladdy...blah blah...haven't we heard all this way too many times...

now onto the story...

Light

by

mingingbent

There are two kinds of light—

the glow that illuminates,

and the glare that obscures.

– James Thurber

Chapter Three: What Matters…

The world won't illuminate what really matters

- Shattered Faith, Bad Religion


Harry awoke in the relative peace and quiet of the bedroom. His sleep had been relatively dreamless; he absently thought maybe something in the tea had to do with it. But now, with all the memories flooding back, he was restless. Years of having to be on the watch for Voldemort, Deatheaters, the Dursley, even pranks by Forge Weasley had drilled him and his body to be on constant alert. After all wasn't it Remus who said: We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. Or was he just quoting someone else? He couldn't quite remember. But he did remember that his friends, - his family, and the people he loved were a world away, had no idea what had happened to him, he didn't he even know if they were still alive and vice verse. And…Harry thought about it more…that also applies to Voldemort. Ever since the meeting five months ago when Voldemort thought he had Harry finally with his grasp, and closed their connection in effort to kill him, now Occlumency seemed just like a bad dream. Harry tried to be as quiet as possible as he slipped out of bed, testing his body he took a few steps toward the door; they seemed to all be in working order. He turned around to grab his wand off the bed.

"Lumos."

Carefully Harry made his way through the shadows and into a narrow hall. Gingerly he tiptoed down the hall, passing two closed doors on the way before he came to a small living room, and kitchen. Harry made his way to the front door, and attempted to open the door. But a voice interrupted his quest and Harry froze.

A small voice broke the silence, "What are you doing?"

Slowly Harry turned, a very small child, with dark, disheveled hair, pajamas clinging to his small frame. His startling bright, blue eyes narrowed when Harry didn't speak.

"You know…" the child continued, "Mum won't be too happy if you tried to leave."

Finally regaining the facility of speech Harry spoke, "Uh…I'm Harry. Who are you?"

The child looked up and half smiled. "Yeah Mum told us that. I'm Gavan. I'm four, but my older brother, he's six, he sleeps like a log."

Before Harry could continue his conversation with Gavan, Aimee appeared in her pajama's a slightly sleepy look plastered on her face.

"Oh I see you two met. Sweetheart," she turned to the boy, "What have I said about wandering around the house at night?"

"Yes, mum." Then Gavan turned to Harry and waved, "Bye Harry." And ran off.

"Here," Aimee said gesturing Harry into the kitchen, "You can put that out."

Flipping on the light switch she gestured him to follow, leaning up against the tile counter.

"Couldn't sleep?"

"No." Harry replied.

"Me neither."

After a brief moment of silence Aimee looked up.

"So kid…" Harry started to interrupt but she raised her hand, "I've been where you've been. Lost and at a pass in life. You free to stay here for as long as you like, until you get up on your feet again; no questions asked."

"I don't think I can…"

"Well, Harry…" it was the first time she had used his first name, "think on it."

"I will…"

"And dear call me Aimee."

"Can I ask you a question, Aimee?" Harry was sitting at the breakfast table, a large plate of toast and eggs heaped on his plate, neither of the boys were up yet. Aimee was sitting in her chair, sipping tea and reading the paper. She put her paper down at his query.

"Yes, what?"

"Why haven't you kicked me out or asked me more questions?"

She didn't even miss a beat.

"Because I told you, you could stay here as long as you need to and well I don't like to press."

"Oh."

"Any other curiosities that need filling, Mr. Potter?"

At that trite phrase, Harry jerked his head up only to see her eyes smiling back.

"Where are you from, I've noticed that you have a different accent from the boys, a bit like…I can't quite place it…but it's familiar."

"Well it should be I was born at my family home near Ipswich, and spent most summers in Wales until Hogwarts that is."

there it is...I gave you a hint into her backstory...let the theories begin...

tada! MB