Just Coincidental
Authoress: Ankaris123
Disclaimer: I disclaim all copyrighted materials in this story and only claim right to the plot.
Start Date: October 22, 2007
End Date: December 29, 2007
Reviews:
yumeniai: Ack, I'm so sorry that I made you forget. Is two months still too long of a period to remember everything? I sure hope not.
rhymeyfaries: Thank you! Here's an update.
Property of Kish: Haha, thanks. This may not be too soon but it's still an update. Enjoy.
amethyst fire phoenix: Yes, it is. Though nothing much happens.
chelsea34: Wow, that's the most interesting review I think I've ever received. I'm sure that I'm going to have to finish this story because I've already laid out the rest of the plotline but I will include an epilogue that tells of what happens in the future with Harry and the others of the Wizarding world. I'm very pleased to hear you like the length of my chapters when I don't myself.
Diamonde: Yeah, I thought I was going to give up too. My faith in finishing anything wavers like a really tall pole on a windy day without ground support. I'm glad to hear that the 'scary' scene spooked somebody, though I'm not saying that I'm glad I scared you because scaring people is a bad thing, er. Yeah. Here's the much anticipated update.
A/N: I'm such a bad person, taking this long to write something so short.
Read it now but take it slow.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
The next morning was hardly worth a mention. It felt as if nothing had happened at all the night before and it fell into just another routine day of mundane tasks that each person had set upon themselves to accomplish. Such as brushing one's teeth in the morning, taking the dog for a walk, or remembering to bring in the newspaper from the lawn where the paperboy threw it hurriedly as he rode by. All this, of course, had not much to do with this story.
Other than the fact that Harry had awoken in an empty hospital wing to the friendly and nurturing Madam Pomfrey and was badgered into eating a heaping pile of syrup slathered pancakes, and two glasses of pumpkin juice, barely anyone spoke of what had happened before, in the dungeon cells. It was as if they had all forgotten. Or they were pretending to have forgotten.
Harry wanted to say something, anything. He wanted to know what that strange (and scary) man was talking about. He wanted to know why his head hurt so much that morning. He wanted to know who the scary man was talking about. But he wanted people to stop ignoring him the most.
In the silent barren corridors, whenever he chanced to encounter one of the boarding school's teachers, they brushed him away with a polite, curt 'Hello' or a 'Good Morning' and went about on their business.
It was too confusing for a little boy of four, fast approaching five, to understand even though he was used to being ignored as he had been treated accordingly for most of his short life. But so far, his summer has been the best he'd ever had and he desperately hoped it would never end, that it was not a dream.
The next few days had passed by so quickly from all the excitement that he had only just realized that it was mere days from his birthday. Thirteen days to be exact.
He wondered to himself whether it would be any different this year.
He was in the middle of a small fantasy of a little party, and a slice of cake just for him, when he heard voices speaking rapidly through a door. They sounded like they were arguing or discussing something, and disagreeing over it.
Only when he realized that the room was actually the Great Hall did he gather up his courage and pushed one of the large double doors open. It was easy to open despite its size.
As it swung open, he caught sight of all the adults crowded in the middle of one of the long tables in a tight huddle. They took no notice of his entrance.
Curious, Harry walked over, making as much noise as possible as he went, in hopes that someone would notice him and let him know what was going on.
"No, that's too dangerous; we can't risk that one, now this one, this one is much safer!"
"And where are we going to find Winter White Crystal Irises at this time of year? There's no way we can wait that long, who knows what effects haven't kicked in yet!"
"We should call down Poppy, she would be a helping hand in this, considering health and safety is part of her job description."
"Excellent suggestion, Filius. Why don't you pop down there right now and fetch her?"
The short teacher popped out of the crowd and nearly barreled into Harry as he went shooting towards the door in his hurry.
"Sorry, Harry, excuse me," he mumbled, running as fast as his legs could manage. The moment Professor Flitwick had pulled away from the group, a gap had appeared just long enough for someone in the midst of all the wizards to notice him.
"Harry!" Sakura called, as the gap was closed by an agitated Minerva McGonagall, who stepped forward to point a thin finger at a section in the ancient tome sitting open on the table top. "Would you mind moving over for a bit, Ms. McGonagall? Thank you. Come sit here, Harry." She patted the lap of her dark brown trousers, welcoming him to sit.
Shyly, he approached the table and clambered onto her lap.
Sitting facing the table, he was finally able to see what the adults were fussing over. A dusty, well-worn book thicker than his head sat open for all to see. The miniscule text was barely legible to him, written in a fancy Elizabethan script. He picked out the simplest words but understood nothing from just that. He looked to Sakura for an explanation.
"We're trying to figure which spell in this book we should use to make the curse that holds us together go away. Seeing how it's very old, the things written in here might be too old for us to use or could be very dangerous to us so the professors are picking out the bad ones until we can find one that's easy to do, as well as keep us safe," she explained promptly in small words. Harry smiled gratefully and turned back to the book again.
He remained quiet during most of the discussions since he couldn't follow what the teachers were saying and soon, dozed off without knowing.
He was woken up by gentle shaking and a soft, pleasant voice.
"Harry…wake up, Harry," the voice said, coaxing him into consciousness. The dark haired boy blinked his eyes hard and rubbed the drowsiness from them with his hands. A quick stretch and a light yawn later, he realized he was still sitting on Sakura's lap. Quickly, he stumbled off, nearly falling to the stone floor.
"Careful!" she called out in concern, steadying him with a hand. He fiddled with the hem of his t-shirt before apologizing in a tiny voice, embarrassed.
"I'm sorry…" She blinked and frowned in confusion.
"What for?"
"Your legs must be numb', I sitted on them for a long time so…"
"Nonsense!" she chirped, jumping to her feet as if to show him she was perfectly fine. But there was a slightly strained look in her happy expression. "I'm absolutely fine."
He smiled gratefully, and looked up when he heard the tell-tale strikes of the school's clock. It was noon. The teachers that were in the Great Hall earlier were now starting to reenter to have their afternoon meal for the day.
Harry took a seat himself. He swung his feet as he munched absentmindedly on the sandwiches that appeared on a silver platter in the middle of the table, keeping a vigilant watch over the door.
But he knew Mr. Snape never came to eat lunch with the rest of the people, preferring to stay in his office or even skipping lunch all together when he was deeply immersed in his work. He wondered if he could ever go back and see Mr. Snape again. He might not like him anymore after seeing how he was so incapable of taking care of himself, and being so troublesome as to wander right into a cell with a dangerous criminal.
He probably thought Harry was a stupid, dumb…stupid little kid that no one should bother to take notice of. Just like his…
Harry choked on a bit of ham, blindly groping the table for a glass of water which he gulped down eagerly. He wheezed, out of breath, dimly aware of the consoling circles that the Japanese girl was rubbing into his back. Appetite lost, he still tried to finish the last of his food but the bread tasted crumbly and crusty in his mouth, the lettuce seemed soggy and limp and the ham was no longer appealing.
He swallowed the lump of food hard to make it go down, slumping onto the table in front of him. He could feel signs of tears pushing against his eyes, threatening to spill.
He really liked Miss Sakura who had rescued him that night in the alley, a time that seemed months, years ago. But she was like Madam Pomfrey, like Mr. Dumbly-dore, or like that old, plump lady that use to live across the street and used to offer him freshly baked cookies that had chocolate chips that melted in your mouth.
They coddled him and took care of his every need. They made sure he was doing all the things a normal little boy should be doing, like eating the right amount of food, playing in the halls or outside, or sleeping at the right time. They always made sure to speak to him in small, easy to understand words he already knew so he wouldn't get confused.
It was nice and all. And he was really grateful for it. He really was. All his life he wanted to be like the normal little boys that he went to school with, who seemed too happy all the time. But now that he had a taste of what he thought it was like, he found it almost tiring. It made him feel soft, weak, like he needed constant protection, like he couldn't defend himself. Something he'd already learned in the short years he had been smart enough to think for himself.
He didn't want to be shielded from the cruel, dark side of the world that he'd already seen on many occasions. He wanted to prepare for it. He wanted to be able to face it head on without hesitation.
He missed Mr. Snape.
His brain easily recalled the times he was helping the dark, foreboding-looking man in the dungeon laboratories. There was always something for him to do, and he was always able to do them quickly and swiftly. It was easy, finding boxes with the right names on them. It was immensely fascinating to watch the man mix odd concoctions with strange ingredients as if he were cooking stew.
Mr. Snape always let him try his best and only helped when it was impossible for the little boy to achieve the task, such as a twig basket of Alihotsy at the edge of a particularly high shelf, that even with the ladder it was perilous to attempt to reach for a young child and his short arms. Mr. Snape also spoke to him like he did to the other teachers, complete with the big, fancy words Harry would never hope of understanding. Half the time, he barely understood what he was saying, though he could guess pretty well and sometimes, rarely, the potions master would stop after the sentence and explain a particularly difficult word for him.
Being down in the labs, he had felt useful. He felt like he was learning things for the first time. He felt that he had a purpose, that he was wanted for once in his life. He felt, dare he say it, content. Happy.
The little boy sighed, tiptoeing to look out an open window.
There was little hope that those times would return.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
It was nearly four days later when they finish the preliminary preparations of gathering the necessities. After much persuasion and a lot of long distance trips later, everything necessary was accounted for.
Outside, on the dry yellowing grass, the teachers and foreign teenagers drew and redrew a circular diagram on the ground with chalk dust.
"That part's a little crooked, Pomona."
"That's three bisecting lines through the centre?"
"No! Four! Four! Watch out for that bucket, Filius!"
Sakura knelt at the edge of the slowly appearing design, looking over a model inscribed into the large map-like paper in her hands. She frowned as mistakes were made with the details here and there, and inspected the curvy runes and symbols that lined the edges.
A hand touched her shoulder causing her to look up.
Eriol said a brief greeting in her native language, which she returned, and sat down next to her, cross-legged, tucking in the edges of the custom tailored cobalt wizards' robe he chose to wear that day. He picked off the red spotted ladybug from Sakura's shoulder and set it free on the ground in front of her.
"Don't fret. Enjoy this while it lasts. Everyone is trying so hard for your sake," the indigo haired teen told her, absently watching Nakuru attempt to rub chalk dust off the grass with the side of Suppi's face. "Harry will be very sad when you have to return to Japan."
"I know…" the Japanese girl mumbled, clutching the thin paper close to her. She looked down at the patch of grass where the ladybug was crawling through with spindly, thin black legs. "I don't want to leave him here alone so soon after we met...I know that I'm still needed at home, that people are waiting for me back there and it would be selfish to make them wait longer…"
"But Harry's not alone anymore, is he?" Tomoyo commented coming from behind her, carrying another metal bucket of white chalk dust. "He has all these people to care for him now, and to watch over him in your stead, Sakura-chan. And don't you think for a moment that it's selfish for you to want to stay here with him, right, Li-kun?"
Syaoran made the slightest inclination with his head from his perch in a nearby tree where he surveyed the work from above. His sword was propped on his shoulder in its sheath.
"Thank you," Sakura said, grateful to her wonderful supporting friends and got to her feet, beating off the blades of grass that stuck to her knees. "Let's do our best to make this ritual work so we may go home with light-hearts and minds free of worry."
Off in the distance at the edge of the lake, Harry glanced over his shoulder and watched everyone get busy with recreating the ancient glyph that would theoretically summon over a spiritual creature with equal power to the binding curse. The creature would then swallow the magic that made up the curse's structure as an offering for its service, and disappear. That was, if it went according to the book.
He hoped nothing would go wrong, but most of his life everything he hoped to go right never did. It may seem pessimistic of him to think in such a way, but it had unconsciously become a habit to expect the worst before thinking about the best.
He unlaced his well worn sneakers, and pulled them off of his feet along with his white socks that Tomoyo had given to him. He carefully rolled these up, and placed them on top of his shoes.
Splashing his little feet in the cool water, he watched the surface of the lake's centre ripple as it is cut by the protruding tentacle of the Giant Squid that receded in it. It submerged itself again when feeling the heat in the air, and propelled itself deep into the black-blue depths of the lake. Harry sighed wistfully, sitting there unsupervised, the sun beating upon his brow.
A breeze flew by, whistling through the brilliantly green leaves of a nearby tree at the lakeside. Wishing to escape the berating heat of the sun, Harry staggered over to it into the sanctity of the shade it offered. He plopped against the side of it, and ran his hand over the cool smooth bark.
He wondered what Mr. Snape was doing…
His fingertips brushed over a worn down engraving, catching his attention. Turning around curious, he saw the incisions in the bark that looked remarkably fresh, most likely affected by the touch of magic. It was a rough-shaped heart encircling bold capital letters that was the typical design of a teenager's proclamation of love.
J. P. + L. E.
Something about it felt oddly familiar, almost nostalgic, but he had never been here before.
"Harry!"
He craned his head towards the call (more accurately, the squeal) of his name. It was Nakuru, baring seven silvery bowls on top of her head, strewn with bouncing beaded braids, running towards him with increasing speed. Two small figures, one yellow and one black, held on for their dear lives in the topmost bowl.
He brushed his fingers over the engraving one last time and jumped to his feet, wavering from the heat wave.
Replying with the biggest smile he could manage, he asked,
"Do you need help with that, Miss Nakuru?"
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
It was early the next morning when they came out to check, and double check their handiwork for the umpteenth time. Propped up on simple metal stands, the seven ornate bowls were filled with pristine water from the lake, and placed accordingly around the diagram. The Winter White Crystal Irises were placed, three in each of them, glittering and sparkling from any source of light that reached them.
Sakura stood in the double inscribed circle where she and Harry would be positioned during the ritual. A smaller circle fringed with rune upon rune in the center of it, indicated where the link would be severed. Chewing her bottom lip she looked to her companions for the thumbs up on the rest of the design.
Even before the ritual was to be evoked, a spell was seemingly cast upon all of them. Everyone moved with slow, delicate and cautious movements, speaking in the softest of voices. Every time someone found a minor error, it unnerved her to no ends. She cast her worried and bothered gaze towards the orange sunrise in the distance that moved upwards in the sky at an achingly slow pace.
She looked to Eriol who was checking the time with a Western Wizard's spell.
Red numbers consisting of light read 6:31.
It was almost time to start.
A little hand grasped hers gently form the side, and she looked down to the encouraging emerald green eyes of Harry.
"Everything will be fine, right?" he asked just as quietly as everyone else.
She knelt down on a knee, and ruffled his raven black hair tenderly.
"Yes, everything will surely be alright."
Tomoyo and Eriol gave her the affirmative for their side and stepped away from the circle. The Hogwarts Staff nodded heads at each other and murmured in low tones, clearing away the empty buckets from the area with a swish of their wands and the utter of a Latin word.
This is it, she thought. It's time to break this spell.
She gripped Harry's hand tightly, and looked to Syaoran who was still inspecting the circle with an eagle sharp gaze from his designated perch in the tree. He looked up, and their eyes met for barely a moment. She thought she could see a hint of apprehension behind the cloud of determination in his hard amber eyes before he averted his gaze. Finally, he nodded his head solemnly; jumping out of the tree in a well practiced front flip to join the others.
The massive double door to the castle opened with a sharp crack, and if one squinted hard enough, they could see the approaching potions master striding towards them, with his black robes billowing ominously behind him.
When he finally reached them, one could see his obvious fatigue, the droop of his eye lids, the tension in his shoulders, and the hollows of his face. His black eyes flickered towards the boy before he turned, and hurried to the closest metal stand.
Reaching into the sleeve of his robes, he drew out a small crystal bottle of luminescent blue liquid which he gave a small shake. He added three drops of the tincture to all the bowls of water that surrounded the glyph. The irises absorbed the blue light, and glowed dimly as did the bowls itself, their elaborate engravings radiating with the same light.
Dumbledore walked into the diagram, carefully avoiding the intricate design as he went/ so he would not disturb the design with the swishes of the hem of his purple robes/ and presented the two in the inscribed circle the book with the evoking incantation.
"Good Luck," he said hoarsely, and coughed twice in a weary hand. The twinkle in his blue eyes dimmed a little even with the increasing glow of the irises around them. His expression was barely a smile as he left for the unmarked grass where the others stood in silence, and waited.
Sakura held the book with heavy hands, tucking a stray lock of honey brown hair behind her ear and opened it to the bookmarked page; her eyes seemed to glaze as she skimmed over the translation again and again.
She closed her eyes and breathed inwards deeply, preparing herself for the moment, calming her unsettling nerves.
She glanced at the kind Hogwarts faculty who stood at the edge, nervous for them. She saw the fussy, caring Madam Pomfrey wringing her hands on the end of her hospital wing apron in anxiety. She saw the wise, strict Professor McGonagall clenching her jaw harshly in anticipation. She saw the cold, expressionless gaze of the potions master, Professor Snape.
She saw Tomoyo, smiling encouragingly with a slight incline of her head. She saw Eriol next to her, holding her hand, doing the same. She saw Nakuru, Suppi, and Kero standing still and quiet for once, close by. And she saw Syaoran stare at her, unwavering and strong with belief, his sword at the ready.
Her hand loosened a little as she left out the breath she was holding. Gathering all the resolve she could muster, a resolute fire dancing in her green eyes, she called upon the innate magic that dwelled within her like she had done many times before.
A card fluttered out of her pocket and soared through the air, coming to a stop, hovering above her. Without a word of command, it materialized from a pink card to its form of a woman in white, seemingly constructed completely from gusts of wind.
Windy.
Windy looked down upon her master who nodded her head, and dissolved into a steady breeze that rippled the grass and the glowing blue water that surrounded them.
"Everything…will surely be alright…" she mouthed as the wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the trees around them with fortitude. Her hair whipped about her head, but she remained unfazed and strong-minded.
The light of the sun flickered and faded away to nothing. The overwhelming dark was only warded away by the blue light of the irises that lit up their faces and figures, gloomily casting everything else in the darkest of shadows.
"Everything will surely be alright…" she repeated one last time, putting her faith in her invincible spell.
And the lines of chalk dust flared, and were engulfed in fire around them.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
A/N: D: Yes I know. Ouch, only 6 and a half pages. My standards are getting so bad lately. Actually, this whole chapter was written with such low standards. Probably because I've been drugged with laziness that could only come from Christmas holidays and I still have a week left. Gosh it's already dark. Anyhow, the stories going to pick up from here and reach the climax soon, everything prior to this was the calm before the storm.
Yam's Beta Comment: Warning: this was also beta'd during the holidays so haha, expect a few errors, haha.This sounded like an ending chapter to me, with all the reflections and what not. Short-eque. Your writing style is changing.
And once again, I thank you reader(s) for taking the time to read this (and give a review, hint hint) chapter of Just Coincidental. Critique, feedback and pointers are much appreciated for the further improvement of the writing in this story. Also, any errors spots will be redirected to the Beta because it would be all her fault (Don't hit me, Yam).