A Moment of Eternity
By Uenki
Disclaimers: I do not own Harry Potter, MSN or the internet. However, I own the plot.
CHAPTER 2: MYSTERY
Muggle London, Publishing Company
June could not sleep. She was just too excited, trembling with joy even and that was putting it mildly. It was the 31st of August, the end of a month and with that comes one of the most spectacular points in her life. It meant that a chapter of James Evans' new book, Hole of Despair, would be sent to the company. June gulped the whole cup of coffee down her throat, feeling extremely hyper and awake. 'Maybe its just my brain' she mused.
A second later, she heard it, a soft flutter of wings. Every time she heard that, she knew it could mean only one thing…
June Reeves jumped up from her seat and tore though her house to the front door. She opened her front door with a soft click and poked her head out scanning for what she hoped to see. June practically squealed in delight when she saw the neatly packed, brown folder by her doorsteps. So with a shaky hand, June picked up the folder carefully, almost as if it was a sacred relic before giving it a tight, paper-crushing hug and running back inside.
"Oh my god! It's here!" she squealed, enthusiastically. She settled back into her seat, and pulled out the stack of papers and started to scan through it. Even if it's just a chapter, she noticed there was not even a single spelling error or grammar error. June wiped away her tears of elation with her sleeves and started to read through the contents, her face in a business-like manner.
Muggle London, Dark Alley
In a small alley, a tall man stood leaning against one of the building walls deep in thought. The man was garbed in a black overcoat that practically hid everything and added to the fact that he also had a pair of deep brown colored sunglasses on; it would be appropriate to say that he was traveling with the purpose of not being seen.
A white owl slowly circled above head looking for her owner. Once she spotted him she quickly flew downwards and landed onto her master's arms, carefully perching herself on it giving a small squawk in the process.
A smile crept up on her master's lips.
"Good job, girl," the man murmured.
"Time to go back home," he spoke clearly and with a soft swish of his cloak, he apparated away with a barely noticeable pop.
Apartment, Study Room
With a wave of her wand, a few stacks of information was levitated onto her study table, as Hermione found herself in a rather interesting conversation on phone with June. June was a friend from another university that worked in the publishing company that publishes James Evans' books.
"What?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes bright, "Hey, don't tell me what is going to happen! Don't burst my bubble!" She blabbered as she headed to her fax machine and booted it.
"Oh shush! Fax the chapter to me, quick!" she muttered while June was teasing her with the story plot. "Ah, bye!" She cried and hung up the phone, not wanting to know the contents of the chapter.
Hermione remain seated on her chair. She picked up her wand that was on the table and muttered, "Accio FAKE," instantly a thick, leather-bounded, 574 pages long book zoomed towards her. It was the sixth book of Evans' series.
"Fake," the author wrote, "was something that was falsely presented. Just like a pretend feeling that one had made such as a fake smile." The sixth book, FAKE, was about the sadistic personality of Jake, Dark Jake, killing a man which happens to be his own father or rather his foster father.
The book was famous for the how well it captured the very essence of what is considered evil, allowing readers to experience the very emotions of what went though Dark Jake's mind. But the most famous event was Dark Jake killing his foster father. Jake hated his father, who treated him inhumane abuse, starving him, beating him and so on. The foster father, Steve, had even locked Jake up in a wardrobe, and punished Jake with a belt for offenses that he did not commit.
"You good-for-nothing imbecile," Steve would always bellow, dragging Jake forcefully by his arm and pulled him into the kitchen. Steve would start the stove and grinned as the fiery embers were lighted up. Then he would push Jake's cheeks near the stove amidst Jakes screams.
Occasionally, Jake's ears were burnt to the point where his skin started blackening and peeling off in dry flakes. If that wasn't enough horrible burn scars appeared at the side of his face as reminder of the torture he went though. Jake still remembered how he screamed for his foster mother, Belle. But no matter how loud he screamed, his foster mother would only weep silently and obeyed Steve's every command.
Jake was an intelligent child, he knew why Belle had not come to his rescue. She was afraid, if she had stepped out to rescue him, she would suffer more than what Jake had suffered. That was why, as years passes, he did not scream for Belle anymore. He always waited for Steve's special treatment to be over and then ran to Belle's comforting embrace.
Belle always wept silently and always blamed herself. "I should never had adopted you, hon. Then you wouldn't have to go through such torture… You'd never have to…" She would always whisper into his ears, caressing his forehead.
"It's okay mum," Light Jake would say and gently rubbed her back to comfort her. Jake knew, both Light and Dark that the hatred was only for Steve and Steve alone.
Dark Jake chuckled silently, a malicious sound running shivers down the spine of any being unfortunate to hear it, even more so to the man it was presented for. Dark Jake continued to emit that haunting chuckle as he approached his foster father with a demonic aura enveloping him. As Dark Jake pulled out a long sinister looking knife, Steve struggled to get out of the chains that bounded him, fear clearly etched onto the man's face.
Jake slowly started circling. Steve building up the tension, fear and hopeless of the man in front of him; to squash the very idea of hope in the remainder of his father's life. As Jake circled slowly, he watched as the horror and fear grew in his childhood torturer until finally broke the man, and that his father finally understood that no mercy or repentance was in store for him, only punishment for his actions. Dark Jake seeing this occur, finally completed his circle and stared into the terrified eyes of his demon. He stared long and hard, his eyes promising redemption for all the horrors he and his mother had went though.
Steve watched with wide eyes, seeing the pain and torture that was the boy was submitted too. He felt every emotion coming from the boy, remembering every abuse, seeing his very own actions towards the boy and with every new memory the more it ate at him like a parasite. Before he knew it he let out of piercing scream as the memories assaulted him one after another.
Dark Jake finally lifted the knife and slowly slid it down from the top of Steve's shoulders to the man's pudgy torso and finally to the base of the belly. As the blood flowed freely pooling below him, Steve continued his blood-curdling scream as the pain assaulted his very being.
Dark Jake would just laugh softly, for every scream that his foster father emitted it would send a shiver through him, a shiver of pure ecstasy and excitement down his spine. More was the only thing that Dark Jake wanted: more of his revenge, more of his torture, and most of all more of his father's screams. Dark Jake did not let Steve die there however, Steve was his entertainment, his therapy, you could say for his childhood. So he would heal Steve's wounds after every injury that he had inflicted only to have it repeat over and over.
Hermione always lets out a soft gasp as she read on till this point. Jake just reminded her too much of Harry. She often wondered if Harry had every pictured killing his relatives in his mind or ever dreamed of it. Forcefully, brutally, barbarically killing them off, one by one. Often when Hermione had visualized those scenes, of the caring Harry she knew, doing those 'stuff' that Jake was doing, it would form a grotesque image in her mind. Then, she would throw those images to the back of her mind. The Dursley she knew was alive and well, thank you very much, they were also very happy without the prick in their side known as Harry Potter.
At that moment, Hermione pulled out, from her drawer, a stack of parchments. It was, which Hermione graciously named, "Harry's bleak and dull letters". It was not exactly a stack, it was only eight pieces of parchments that Harry had sent to her after Sirius' death. Most of them have only one line wordings.
I
am fine, Hermione.
I detest my uncle, Hermione.
That was the only two parchments Harry sent after his fifth year at the Dursley. The other six pieces were vaguely the same, however, the last piece, the most recent one was sent to her on her birthday, this year, 19th September. It 'magically' appeared by her bedside table when she woke up, together with a bouquet yellow Acacia and a present, which she almost stepped on when she woke up.
The present was a book, as expected, A Reason for Time by Sinclair Rose, a famed witch who did researches on time travel. It was one of the rarest books in the Magical World, only two books that existed. (Hermione did research on that.)
Hermione,
Happy 22nd Birthday. I am alive and well, not dead yet, much to your disappointment.
At that point, Hermione had laughed.
I hope you like the flowers and the present. I am not good at choosing gifts. I am somewhere and would like to keep it that way, please, do not try to look for me. Your tracking charm does not work, let me assure you.
Take care, would do you no good to get sick.
Love,
Harry
PS Try not to mark your students' papers late at night, I it is not very healthy. I know you don't like it and I'm sure you're students aren't particularly looking forward for it either.
Hermione traced her fingers on every word Harry wrote. A smile graced her lips when she knew that Harry had, once again, fondled with those thousands of tracking charm she had used, to find out where he were. A strange kind of warmth always does envelop her heart when she read through those words of concerns that Harry had wrote, specially for her.
That letter was her precious treasure. Sighing happily once more, she carefully placed the parchments back into the drawer.
"Colloportus," she muttered, sealing the drawer. Even though it was only Muggles who enter her apartment, she placed that charm for safe-keeping. To assure that some Muggle thief does not take her 'treasure' away. With a soft flick of her wand, FAKE was back in the bookcase. Hermione looked to her fax machine and noticed that the new chapter had finished being faxed over. She looked towards it longingly but decided to do her marking of scripts first. The she could read the latest chapter of the Evan's series before she went to bed.
A/N: Here's another chapter. I am, frankly, surprise and very much appalled at the amount comments I have received. It's a first time when I received seventeen reviews on the first chapter. I really do appreciate it and please, keep them going.
I found a BETA, his penname's NL Kaos, please check his fiction out if you have the time. It's very entertaining, a Ranma ½ crossover with Harry Potter.
Oh well, after Nick has revised through the chapter, I decided to keep his constructive criticisms for safe-keeping. :P It's worth for someone like me who wanted to improve my writing. (Sorry Nick, I have cased a lot of troubles for you. T.T)
(Ranma ½ is about this guy, Ranma, who got cursed when he fell into a cursed spring, Nyannichuan. Apparently, due to the cursed spring, when Ranma got showered on with cold water, he will turn into a girl. Poured on with hot water, he will turn back into a man. It's a comedy.)
P.S. For those of you who thought it was weird that Harry sent Hermione yellow Acacia (a type of flower) instead of roses, go check out what it meant. You will be surprised. (Or not.)