A.N. As always, I do not own Harry Potter. There are vague references to Book 7. Very vague and more conjectures of the narrator's voice. Afterall, she really doesn't know what is going on any more than we know her.
I am also somewhat in shock that this in theory could go with the idea that the great JKR used with Hermione's parents in DH. Convenient for my purposes...meanwhile, praying that our world could find the peace that our favorite wizarding world has found.
The anonymity of the Internet is such that I can go to a café, where the sign is in a language three years ago I could not read. I can sit down to a beverage I never would have dreamed of drinking and bring up the British news. BBC, International Herald, even the New York Times offer me the only links to my sister.
The anonymity would merely show someone who was curious as to the happenings in the British Isles. Perhaps the anonymity would slip as the pattern came up that I searched through to find the odd, unexplained occurrences. I dwelled longer over articles that showed pictures of the country side. I would pull up Google maps and zoom in to a corner of the country and stare at a patch of forest, a field, a stream. And then just as suddenly I would close the browser, log off, and flee the café.
A few days later, I would anonymously drift into another café.
I wonder, as I read an article about an unsolved homicide if some power beyond my comprehension was at play. I wonder, as I see an advertisement for a dental agency whether my parents fare well. I wonder, as I read of a bridge collapse whether my sister was cowering under it.
In anonymity I sip my drink; I offer a prayer to whatever God may choose to hear me. In this land the gods are different; the prayers are intoned with harmonies of great comfort. I wonder whether the God I know hears me in this land; hears my prayers for my sister in another world.
I wonder, as I stare at a patch of my home's earth whether my sister slept there. I wonder, as I look at a map whether that is where her school stands. I wonder, as I look at a bare field, whether that is where the school stood.
I wonder, as I sip my drink whether the day will come when my dreams are nothing more than a mixture of a spicy dish from dinner and my infatuation with a movie star. I wonder, will I some day soon sit across from my sister discussing the news instead of knowing she is making the news. I wonder, when will the sadness that is not my own be lifted. I wonder, whether it will be grief or joy that descends in its place
The anonymity is a comfort. If I was known I would have to explain my drawn look as more than homesickness or a discomfort from something I ate. If I was known, I would have to answer questions. If I was known, I would have to accept that this was not a dream, a story written to amuse or educate.
The anonymity is a curse. If I was known, I could seek comfort. If I was known, the monks chanting could chant the prayers I offer in silence. If I was known, I could ask questions. If I was known, I could do something, anything.
The anonymity is a burden I was asked to bear. My sister who bears so much and who asks so little made this one request. There is one who can remove my anonymity. Until she conquers the darkness, in anonymous blankness I shall dwell. Until she comes to claim me, to give me my identity, I will hold to my promise.
I wait in anonymity.
Author's Request. Sorry, I really do hate all these notes, however given some comments left in reviews I ask that you please be respectful of the choices my brother has made and my motives for writing this story. It is not social commentary on present situations. It is fanfiction spurred by a what if senario that resonates with my worries. Leave your comments on the story, leave your best wishes, they are more than appreciated. However, if you wish to leave color commentary on the 'Muggle World,' I ask that you find somewhere else. Trust me, I've heard it before and it does not help me to deal with the realities of my life. In humble thanks, Foxredwinter.