Chapter Two: The Visitor
"What - what did you say?" she asked nervously, perhaps even not wanting to know the answer. The daughter sighed. "Honestly, Mum. You need to get your ears checked. I said I found the doll in the Old Lot." Ginny couldn't help but notice her own breathing become shallow and hoarse. Licking her lips, she asked, "Dear, what all exactly happened at the Old Lot?" Ivy huffed. "Fine, Mummy. But only one more time."
"This morning, I was walking down the cul-de-sac, and I saw leaves blowing over something. So naturally I walked over to see what it was. As I bent down, the wind blew in my face, and I couldn't exactly see where it had gone. I felt around, picked it up, and the wind stopped. It was quite strange. Anyway, that was when I met James. What is it, Mummy?"
Ginny relieved her lungs of hot air as she began to breathe again. She didn't even realize she had stopped... "I'm alright, dear, please continue."
"Well, I saw James a little ways away and decided to see why exactly he was standing there. So I said, 'What is your name?' He smiled and said, 'Hello, my name is James. But you can call me Prongs.'
"I preferred James, it seemed more proper. So then I - What now, Mummy?" Ginny shook her head and wiped her cheek. "Nothing. Continue."
"Anyway, I then asked him if he had a daughter, who may have lost or misplaced the doll. He shook his head then, and he said 'No, but I had a son.' I asked what happened to the son, and he said, 'Well, you see, he was very little when his mother and I had to leave him.' I then scolded him for leaving his son, because every child needs a mummy and daddy. But then he said, 'Do you have a father?' I said yes, but I didn't know where he was; that you, Mummy, hadn't told me where exactly he had gone.
"'Would you like to play?' he said, and of course, how could I decline a playmate when so rarely does one make itself available?" Ivy giggled. "I heard Uncle Fred say that once.
"So I invited him to play with me in our yard, and we were having good fun when you came out and found me." Ginny waited for more, and when none came, she said, "Is that all?"
"That's all." Ginny looked down for a moment, and then decided, "It's time for bed. We've had quite a day." Ivy shook her head. "No Mummy, you've had a day."
"Well, in any case, it's time for bed. C'mon, up you get" She patted the girl's back as Ivy led the way up the stairs.
While Ivy was changing into her pajamas, Ginny saw the doll on the night table. "Ivy, do you think Mummy could borrow that tonight?" Ivy finished pulling the nightshirt over her head and looked to where her mother was pointing. "Mummy, why do you need my doll? I was going to sleep with it."
"Well, sweetheart, I just need to take a look at it tonight, and when I'm done I'll slip back in here while you're sleeping, give it to you, and you'll never know I was here." "Alright Mummy, just this once, and then it's my turn." Ginny walked silently over to the doll; almost fearful of what might happen when she touched it. She closed her fingers around it slowly and picked up the demented looking doll.
Again, she felt it.
Harry.
"Alright dear, let's tuck you in."
Closing the door gently behind her, Ginny tiptoed back to her own bedroom. Upon entering a dark room, with a wave of her wand the lights came on. She plopped down on the bed and crossed her legs Indian-style. Then she held up the doll once more to examine it. She didn't understand; why did she feel Harry if it was supposed to be James? And she believed her mother was right; it has something to do with memories.
Taking her wand with her right hand and the doll in her left, she whispered, Archetypus abhinc. The doll was lifted out of her hands and it lay still in the air for several seconds before it fell to the comforter, and four numbers appeared in mid air; 1 9 7 9.
Once again, Ginny resumed breathing after she noticed she had stopped. So it is James, she thought. But why...? She still didn't understand how Harry could be related to all of this. And how could Ivy see him? You can't see memories; why, wouldn't you just remember them? Then she recalled her first year at Hogwarts... After that, anything could be possible. Becoming too tired to search for the meaning anymore, she tiptoed back to Ivy's room and slipped the doll back into the girl's arms, as she had promised. She didn't wake, but snuggled with the doll.
Her bed was cold against her skin. Tightly she wrapped the blankets around her, in hopes as to warm them up. It wasn't ever cold when he was here.
She doubted any possibilities that Harry was still alive. After all, he had been missing for years, and you'd think a pregnant wife would be a reason to come home. But no, he hadn't returned. Year after year, Ginny would just imagine him walking in through the door, yelling up the stairs in a mock television sitcom - husband - voice: "Honey! I'm home!"
Lately, though, she'd been able to face the fact that Harry was most likely never coming back because he was... he was dea -.
She was unable to state the fact clearly, but in her heart she felt that he could never come back nor could he be replaced.
*
A groggy Ginny made her way down the stairs on a quest to fix breakfast. But she was only to find her daughter already fixing scrambled eggs in a frying pan.
"Ivy! What in the blazes are you doing?!"
"Fixing you breakfast, Mummy."
"Who told you that you were allowed to turn the stove on without Mummy?"
"James."
"Well is James the head of this house? No, he is not! Get down off of that chair this instant!" Ivy obeyed without a word and shuffled over to the kitchen table, looking suspiciously at her mother. "I'll finish," Ginny told her. She walked over to the eggs that were sizzling in their pan, and noticed that they weren't burnt and looked just the way her mother's did. How odd, she thought. I've never taught Ivy how to fix eggs before.
As she brought two plates and the pan to the table, she saw Ivy fiddling with the doll, a look of shame on her face. Her mood softened. "Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry for yelling at you. Mummy didn't get much sleep last -"
"I did them wrong, didn't I?"
Ginny was stunned at her daughter's interruption. "No! No, not at all! They were actually very well done..." Ginny scooped some eggs onto a plate for her daughter. "Where did you learn how to make eggs?" Ivy avoided her mother's eyes and mumbled a word. "What did you say, dear? I didn't hear you."
"James," Ivy replied, only slightly louder than she had said before. "Ah," Ginny said, though for the first time during a conversation about the character, with a smile on her face. "I suppose he was a lot of help?" Ivy nodded eagerly, shame forgotten. "Yes, he absolutely was. I wanted to make something other than cereal for breakfast; I don't really like it. So I asked him what he knew how to make." Ivy went on to tell her little tale of how her morning had started as Ginny listened with amusement at her daughter's widening vocabulary. "And James said it was very intellectual of me to suggest shredded cheese..." How very intellectual, indeed, Ginny thought, laughing inside.
While washing the dishes, Ginny glanced out the window. It was a very nice day for the park. The sun was shining so bright that candles on the sill were softening up a bit, and the trees moved slightly, indicating a pleasant breeze. "Say Ivy, how would you like to walk to the park today?" A squeal emanated from the living room, and Ginny smiled. "We'll be leaving when I'm finished washing up, so get ready to go."
Collecting her purse and keys, Ginny led the small girl out of the house, who couldn't wait for her mother to lock up the house and ran out to the end of the driveway. "C'mon, Mummy! James is going to beat us in the race!" Shoving the keys back into her purse, she jogged out to where Ivy was standing. "You can run along ahead of me, but don't go off to where I can't see you." Even before Ginny was finished speaking, the girl was running at top speed towards where she assumed James was running.
Keeping her pace quick, she took a look at her surroundings. The leaves were changing colors, colors of red and gold. Her neighbor's burning bushes were bright red now, elegantly swaying in the breeze. She came to the hill that sloped right down to the playground at the park, and noticed Ivy was running with immense momentum. "Be careful!" she called, though she doubted the warning was heard. Not able to walk correctly any longer, Ginny began to jog down the hill to catch up.
It felt good to run like that again. She felt like a child once more, and it was a great feeling. Wild, free, senseless...
She sat down on a park bench nearby the jungle gym to watch her daughter play with the invisible figure that was James. As she became lost in her own thoughts of childhood, her daughter suddenly appeared in front of her. "What is it, Ive?"
"Last night - I forgot - James wanted to talk to you." Ginny too remembered this, and at once she became anxious and afraid. "That's right; he did, didn't he? Where is he now?" Ivy giggled. "He's sitting right beside you, Mum." Ginny violently threw her head in the direction her daughter was pointing, and saw nothing.
"So he is," she smiled. "Go off and play while I chat with James."
She watched Ivy run off to play with another child on the jungle gym, and turned awkwardly to the space next to her. "Er, good evening," she mumbled, barely audible to her own ear. No mystery person appeared. The breeze only tickled her cheeks and played with her hair, and perhaps smiled at her, but no person called James appeared. She sighed, almost with relief that he didn't.
Ivy was quite tired by the time lunchtime arrived, but still she held an argument to stay at the park all day.
"Please, Mummy, just ten more minutes!"
"I'm sorry Ive, but we should really go back to eat lunch. Next time we can picnic our lunches and eat here."
"Oh all right," Ivy gave in, as though she had had a chance of winning.
They walked up the hill quietly until Ivy popped a question on her mother. "So, Mummy, what did you talk to James about?" Ginny wasn't prepared to answer this, for she really didn't have one; she hadn't talked to the James thing at all. "Well, dear, er, James said he would tell me about it later... er, tonight."
"Really?" Ivy said skeptically. "He seemed so anxious earlier..."
"I'll race you," Ginny said, eager to come off the topic. Ivy looked up at her enthusiastically. "Yeah!"
"Last one to the door is a flobberworm!" Ivy paused as her mother took off. "Flobberworm?" She barely paused to think as she noticed her mother was getting awfully close to the house, and so she shrugged it off and ran with all her might.
*
The day went on as such, with two fiery loads of crackling energy. Games they played were numerous, and Ginny soon lost track of the time. But the lengths of days were shortening, and the setting sun reminded her there was such a thing as time.
"Ivy, you need to take a bath, and then it's time for bed."
"But Mummy, I'm not t - t - tired." She attempted to stifle a yawn, but failed miserably. Ginny smiled, "I know." Together they walked up the stairs and as Ivy went to her room to fetch nightclothes, Ginny began to run the water in the tub. The door behind her creaked open, and she got up off her knees to help Ivy undress.
"You're arms are quite dirty," Ginny pointed out as she began to scrub down the grubby child. "You must have been crawling around in the dirt or something." Ivy only smiled, and said nothing.
When at last the over exhausted child was sleeping peacefully in her bed, Ginny headed back to her bedroom, once again with the doll. She got out her wand and levitated it to her night table. She sat on the edge of the bed to think. Really, there was nothing that had taught her how to extricate memories from an inanimate object. It wasn't very common to preserve them in the first place. Most people wouldn't know they had to, or be so desperate as to keep part of them on earth. When her thoughts led her nowhere, she picked up the doll again and quietly walked down the stairs.
She put the kettle on, and waited as the water bubbled more and more. She poured some of the water into a small cup and added a teabag, then sat at the table. The lights were dim, and the doll gave her an eerie sense of another person in the room. Maybe there is, she thought.
But why can I feel it?
Absently stirring her tea bag around, she stared at the doll. It wasn't much bigger than her hand, and if it was made in 1979, its condition couldn't really be questioned. She picked it up and a huge wind blew through her hair. She desperately looked around at all of the windows, to see if any were open. All were shut tightly. She looked at the doll again, and it looked the same as it had a few seconds ago. Of course it would, she thought. Why would it change?
Another part of her mind told her, because you want it to.
Did she want a James figure to appear? She wasn't sure. Sure, she wanted to know why her daughter was talking to a seemingly imaginary figure that sounded exactly like her husband's father, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to... talk to it.
"What are you about, James?" she said to the doll. "What do you want with my daughter?"
"Nothing, really, she only needed a friend."
Ginny quickly stood up and around to see where the voice had come from.
She gasped.
"Harry?"
)A(N)(
Ok, so I'm really obsessed with cliffs... they're just so fun! And it's kind of and easy way to wrap up a chap. Haha I can rhyme. All right, really frightened, you are? Get used to it.
I don't know how long this one will end up being, but I have a whole plot lined up in my head already. I'm thinking up to ten chapters... but don't get yawl's hopes up, it's only a guesstimate. Erm... there was something else... oh yes; of course. MORE REVIEWS. PLEASE. I think I'm becoming obsessed with those too. When an author gets reviews, it sorta lets them know that people are actually reading they're stuff, in addition to telling them what they need to work on.
Ok I guess I'll leave you to that REVIEWING....
"What - what did you say?" she asked nervously, perhaps even not wanting to know the answer. The daughter sighed. "Honestly, Mum. You need to get your ears checked. I said I found the doll in the Old Lot." Ginny couldn't help but notice her own breathing become shallow and hoarse. Licking her lips, she asked, "Dear, what all exactly happened at the Old Lot?" Ivy huffed. "Fine, Mummy. But only one more time."
"This morning, I was walking down the cul-de-sac, and I saw leaves blowing over something. So naturally I walked over to see what it was. As I bent down, the wind blew in my face, and I couldn't exactly see where it had gone. I felt around, picked it up, and the wind stopped. It was quite strange. Anyway, that was when I met James. What is it, Mummy?"
Ginny relieved her lungs of hot air as she began to breathe again. She didn't even realize she had stopped... "I'm alright, dear, please continue."
"Well, I saw James a little ways away and decided to see why exactly he was standing there. So I said, 'What is your name?' He smiled and said, 'Hello, my name is James. But you can call me Prongs.'
"I preferred James, it seemed more proper. So then I - What now, Mummy?" Ginny shook her head and wiped her cheek. "Nothing. Continue."
"Anyway, I then asked him if he had a daughter, who may have lost or misplaced the doll. He shook his head then, and he said 'No, but I had a son.' I asked what happened to the son, and he said, 'Well, you see, he was very little when his mother and I had to leave him.' I then scolded him for leaving his son, because every child needs a mummy and daddy. But then he said, 'Do you have a father?' I said yes, but I didn't know where he was; that you, Mummy, hadn't told me where exactly he had gone.
"'Would you like to play?' he said, and of course, how could I decline a playmate when so rarely does one make itself available?" Ivy giggled. "I heard Uncle Fred say that once.
"So I invited him to play with me in our yard, and we were having good fun when you came out and found me." Ginny waited for more, and when none came, she said, "Is that all?"
"That's all." Ginny looked down for a moment, and then decided, "It's time for bed. We've had quite a day." Ivy shook her head. "No Mummy, you've had a day."
"Well, in any case, it's time for bed. C'mon, up you get" She patted the girl's back as Ivy led the way up the stairs.
While Ivy was changing into her pajamas, Ginny saw the doll on the night table. "Ivy, do you think Mummy could borrow that tonight?" Ivy finished pulling the nightshirt over her head and looked to where her mother was pointing. "Mummy, why do you need my doll? I was going to sleep with it."
"Well, sweetheart, I just need to take a look at it tonight, and when I'm done I'll slip back in here while you're sleeping, give it to you, and you'll never know I was here." "Alright Mummy, just this once, and then it's my turn." Ginny walked silently over to the doll; almost fearful of what might happen when she touched it. She closed her fingers around it slowly and picked up the demented looking doll.
Again, she felt it.
Harry.
"Alright dear, let's tuck you in."
Closing the door gently behind her, Ginny tiptoed back to her own bedroom. Upon entering a dark room, with a wave of her wand the lights came on. She plopped down on the bed and crossed her legs Indian-style. Then she held up the doll once more to examine it. She didn't understand; why did she feel Harry if it was supposed to be James? And she believed her mother was right; it has something to do with memories.
Taking her wand with her right hand and the doll in her left, she whispered, Archetypus abhinc. The doll was lifted out of her hands and it lay still in the air for several seconds before it fell to the comforter, and four numbers appeared in mid air; 1 9 7 9.
Once again, Ginny resumed breathing after she noticed she had stopped. So it is James, she thought. But why...? She still didn't understand how Harry could be related to all of this. And how could Ivy see him? You can't see memories; why, wouldn't you just remember them? Then she recalled her first year at Hogwarts... After that, anything could be possible. Becoming too tired to search for the meaning anymore, she tiptoed back to Ivy's room and slipped the doll back into the girl's arms, as she had promised. She didn't wake, but snuggled with the doll.
Her bed was cold against her skin. Tightly she wrapped the blankets around her, in hopes as to warm them up. It wasn't ever cold when he was here.
She doubted any possibilities that Harry was still alive. After all, he had been missing for years, and you'd think a pregnant wife would be a reason to come home. But no, he hadn't returned. Year after year, Ginny would just imagine him walking in through the door, yelling up the stairs in a mock television sitcom - husband - voice: "Honey! I'm home!"
Lately, though, she'd been able to face the fact that Harry was most likely never coming back because he was... he was dea -.
She was unable to state the fact clearly, but in her heart she felt that he could never come back nor could he be replaced.
*
A groggy Ginny made her way down the stairs on a quest to fix breakfast. But she was only to find her daughter already fixing scrambled eggs in a frying pan.
"Ivy! What in the blazes are you doing?!"
"Fixing you breakfast, Mummy."
"Who told you that you were allowed to turn the stove on without Mummy?"
"James."
"Well is James the head of this house? No, he is not! Get down off of that chair this instant!" Ivy obeyed without a word and shuffled over to the kitchen table, looking suspiciously at her mother. "I'll finish," Ginny told her. She walked over to the eggs that were sizzling in their pan, and noticed that they weren't burnt and looked just the way her mother's did. How odd, she thought. I've never taught Ivy how to fix eggs before.
As she brought two plates and the pan to the table, she saw Ivy fiddling with the doll, a look of shame on her face. Her mood softened. "Oh sweetheart, I'm sorry for yelling at you. Mummy didn't get much sleep last -"
"I did them wrong, didn't I?"
Ginny was stunned at her daughter's interruption. "No! No, not at all! They were actually very well done..." Ginny scooped some eggs onto a plate for her daughter. "Where did you learn how to make eggs?" Ivy avoided her mother's eyes and mumbled a word. "What did you say, dear? I didn't hear you."
"James," Ivy replied, only slightly louder than she had said before. "Ah," Ginny said, though for the first time during a conversation about the character, with a smile on her face. "I suppose he was a lot of help?" Ivy nodded eagerly, shame forgotten. "Yes, he absolutely was. I wanted to make something other than cereal for breakfast; I don't really like it. So I asked him what he knew how to make." Ivy went on to tell her little tale of how her morning had started as Ginny listened with amusement at her daughter's widening vocabulary. "And James said it was very intellectual of me to suggest shredded cheese..." How very intellectual, indeed, Ginny thought, laughing inside.
While washing the dishes, Ginny glanced out the window. It was a very nice day for the park. The sun was shining so bright that candles on the sill were softening up a bit, and the trees moved slightly, indicating a pleasant breeze. "Say Ivy, how would you like to walk to the park today?" A squeal emanated from the living room, and Ginny smiled. "We'll be leaving when I'm finished washing up, so get ready to go."
Collecting her purse and keys, Ginny led the small girl out of the house, who couldn't wait for her mother to lock up the house and ran out to the end of the driveway. "C'mon, Mummy! James is going to beat us in the race!" Shoving the keys back into her purse, she jogged out to where Ivy was standing. "You can run along ahead of me, but don't go off to where I can't see you." Even before Ginny was finished speaking, the girl was running at top speed towards where she assumed James was running.
Keeping her pace quick, she took a look at her surroundings. The leaves were changing colors, colors of red and gold. Her neighbor's burning bushes were bright red now, elegantly swaying in the breeze. She came to the hill that sloped right down to the playground at the park, and noticed Ivy was running with immense momentum. "Be careful!" she called, though she doubted the warning was heard. Not able to walk correctly any longer, Ginny began to jog down the hill to catch up.
It felt good to run like that again. She felt like a child once more, and it was a great feeling. Wild, free, senseless...
She sat down on a park bench nearby the jungle gym to watch her daughter play with the invisible figure that was James. As she became lost in her own thoughts of childhood, her daughter suddenly appeared in front of her. "What is it, Ive?"
"Last night - I forgot - James wanted to talk to you." Ginny too remembered this, and at once she became anxious and afraid. "That's right; he did, didn't he? Where is he now?" Ivy giggled. "He's sitting right beside you, Mum." Ginny violently threw her head in the direction her daughter was pointing, and saw nothing.
"So he is," she smiled. "Go off and play while I chat with James."
She watched Ivy run off to play with another child on the jungle gym, and turned awkwardly to the space next to her. "Er, good evening," she mumbled, barely audible to her own ear. No mystery person appeared. The breeze only tickled her cheeks and played with her hair, and perhaps smiled at her, but no person called James appeared. She sighed, almost with relief that he didn't.
Ivy was quite tired by the time lunchtime arrived, but still she held an argument to stay at the park all day.
"Please, Mummy, just ten more minutes!"
"I'm sorry Ive, but we should really go back to eat lunch. Next time we can picnic our lunches and eat here."
"Oh all right," Ivy gave in, as though she had had a chance of winning.
They walked up the hill quietly until Ivy popped a question on her mother. "So, Mummy, what did you talk to James about?" Ginny wasn't prepared to answer this, for she really didn't have one; she hadn't talked to the James thing at all. "Well, dear, er, James said he would tell me about it later... er, tonight."
"Really?" Ivy said skeptically. "He seemed so anxious earlier..."
"I'll race you," Ginny said, eager to come off the topic. Ivy looked up at her enthusiastically. "Yeah!"
"Last one to the door is a flobberworm!" Ivy paused as her mother took off. "Flobberworm?" She barely paused to think as she noticed her mother was getting awfully close to the house, and so she shrugged it off and ran with all her might.
*
The day went on as such, with two fiery loads of crackling energy. Games they played were numerous, and Ginny soon lost track of the time. But the lengths of days were shortening, and the setting sun reminded her there was such a thing as time.
"Ivy, you need to take a bath, and then it's time for bed."
"But Mummy, I'm not t - t - tired." She attempted to stifle a yawn, but failed miserably. Ginny smiled, "I know." Together they walked up the stairs and as Ivy went to her room to fetch nightclothes, Ginny began to run the water in the tub. The door behind her creaked open, and she got up off her knees to help Ivy undress.
"You're arms are quite dirty," Ginny pointed out as she began to scrub down the grubby child. "You must have been crawling around in the dirt or something." Ivy only smiled, and said nothing.
When at last the over exhausted child was sleeping peacefully in her bed, Ginny headed back to her bedroom, once again with the doll. She got out her wand and levitated it to her night table. She sat on the edge of the bed to think. Really, there was nothing that had taught her how to extricate memories from an inanimate object. It wasn't very common to preserve them in the first place. Most people wouldn't know they had to, or be so desperate as to keep part of them on earth. When her thoughts led her nowhere, she picked up the doll again and quietly walked down the stairs.
She put the kettle on, and waited as the water bubbled more and more. She poured some of the water into a small cup and added a teabag, then sat at the table. The lights were dim, and the doll gave her an eerie sense of another person in the room. Maybe there is, she thought.
But why can I feel it?
Absently stirring her tea bag around, she stared at the doll. It wasn't much bigger than her hand, and if it was made in 1979, its condition couldn't really be questioned. She picked it up and a huge wind blew through her hair. She desperately looked around at all of the windows, to see if any were open. All were shut tightly. She looked at the doll again, and it looked the same as it had a few seconds ago. Of course it would, she thought. Why would it change?
Another part of her mind told her, because you want it to.
Did she want a James figure to appear? She wasn't sure. Sure, she wanted to know why her daughter was talking to a seemingly imaginary figure that sounded exactly like her husband's father, but she wasn't sure if she wanted to... talk to it.
"What are you about, James?" she said to the doll. "What do you want with my daughter?"
"Nothing, really, she only needed a friend."
Ginny quickly stood up and around to see where the voice had come from.
She gasped.
"Harry?"
)A(N)(
Ok, so I'm really obsessed with cliffs... they're just so fun! And it's kind of and easy way to wrap up a chap. Haha I can rhyme. All right, really frightened, you are? Get used to it.
I don't know how long this one will end up being, but I have a whole plot lined up in my head already. I'm thinking up to ten chapters... but don't get yawl's hopes up, it's only a guesstimate. Erm... there was something else... oh yes; of course. MORE REVIEWS. PLEASE. I think I'm becoming obsessed with those too. When an author gets reviews, it sorta lets them know that people are actually reading they're stuff, in addition to telling them what they need to work on.
Ok I guess I'll leave you to that REVIEWING....