2 years after the final battle with Voldemort, Harry Potter reflects on what his life has become and decides to set off for a new beginning; only to find himself drawn back to his former life.
From the Unofficial Portkey Archive: https://portkey-archive.org/story/2950/
Title: A Desperate Occurrence
Author: ligs
Disclaimer: All characters and places used in this story that appear in J.K. Rowling’s books belong to her; though I wish they were mine. Any similarity to an existing fanfic by this piece is unintentional, while I’ve read many; I think you’ll agree I can’t read them all.
A Desperate Occurrence
Prologue -Decision for a New Beginning
Empty.
No other word can aptly describe what I feel today.
I know I shouldn’t be like this. After all, the dark lord is no more. It’s been two years now, two years after graduating from Hogwarts. I thank my blessings each day that most of my friends made it through the final battle. There had been casualties, yes. Dumbledore, Hagrid… Remus. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t take their deaths hard. I mourned their loss for months but in time I’ve grown to accept and be grateful for their sacrifice.
The first few months after Voldemort’s defeat went by like a haze for me. Reflecting on it now, I can hardly remember what happened around me in that span of time. I was still wrapped in grief back then. Though there was a sense of peace in knowing that Voldemort is gone, I still can’t help but feel that I’m partially responsible for the lives lost in that battle. I will sorely miss Remus most of all, the last of the marauders, my last link to my parents and Sirius. We held a small ceremony to honor those that had fallen in battle and laid their remains at a quaint cemetery overlooking the horizon, giving them a view of the sun’s first rays, signaling a new day. They would have liked that.
I vaguely recall attending a celebration held by the Ministry of Magic. The whole of wizarding Britain was in a festive mood. I couldn’t care less. I understand their joy. I understand it all too well. There was just no reason for me to celebrate at the time. I also went to a book signing event with Ron and Hermione. The book was a special edition of Hogwarts, A History detailing the events that led to Voldemort’s downfall. I swear I haven’t seen Hermione so excited. However, that’s most of what I remember. Aside from doing the occasional interview for the Daily Prophet and eating at the Burrow, I think I spent most of the time in the room I rented at the Leaky Cauldron.
My friends, of course, were worried. Told them that everything was fine and I just needed time to heal. I gradually picked up my life after that. I determined, or at least decided, to try and lead a happy life as my parents would have wanted. I’d be insulting their memory if I didn’t! A renewed hope welled up in me. The thought of maybe realizing what, until then, had been only the product of wishful thinking and dreams were finally attainable had a warm, calming effect. I can now live without having to keep looking behind my back. I can lead a normal life, or at least how normal it can get. To do the simple things that others take for granted. Simple things like going out for a walk, greeting friends at work, to have a family - to live!
I bought my own flat near the outskirts of London, although Mrs. Weasley kept insisting I stay at the Burrow. I told her I’d visit often, at least once a week. That seemed to appease her. Ron was talking about a weekly gathering of friends anyway, so it wouldn’t be much trouble for me. Besides, I missed my friends and am interested with what they were planning to do in the future.
Shortly, after, I applied for Auror training. I was surprised to see Neville there. He said he wanted to do his mum and dad proud. I told him he already has. I still remember how he fought off deatheater after deatheater with the effectiveness of a seasoned veteran during the battle. All my friends fought valiantly, really, but none of them came close to Neville that day, not even Ron and Hermione. He was like a man possessed.
Hermione was livid when she heard I signed up to be an Auror. I felt as if we were back at Hogwarts and she just caught me in the middle of doing a prank. She was going on about me having my share of trouble to last a lifetime and that I should find something else to do. Something I can enjoy. She even suggested quidditch, which I found funny since she doesn’t really like the game that much. Ron was only eager to suggest I join him with the Chudley Cannons. He’d been playing for them as a reserve keeper for a couple of months. I never took up that offer. I just don’t see myself playing professionally.
Truth is I don’t know why I signed up for Auror training. The last of the deatheaters have been rounded up. No one’s out to snuff me. There simply is no need for me to be an Auror. So why did I sign up? I guess I thought it was the only thing I can do well. In retrospect, I did it because I wanted to put a sense of direction to my life. There’s a part of me that feels lost, especially nowadays. At least when Voldemort was alive I had a goal, a direction. When I learned of the prophecy, I knew what I had to do; I knew what my future held and knew what steps to take to achieve that end. Now that ‘future’ is past, and I’m left wondering. I needed something to focus on. I needed to move on with my life like what my friends were doing. I guess I needed time to sort my thoughts and feelings. The training provided me with time to think as well as a job.
Training became rigorous with each passing day. I hardly saw people aside from Tonks, Kingsley, and ‘Mad-Eye’, not even Neville who’s supposed to be in the same compound with me. During breaks and holidays I’d try to spend time with friends, especially Hermione. I was desperately trying to work up the nerve to ask her on a date. I never expressed how I felt about her back at Hogwarts, and I didn’t dare. I shudder to think what Voldemort would have done if he knew I loved Hermione. In this light, I am grateful Snape continued my education in occlumency during my sixth year. Voldemort continually attacked my mind the following year. Anyway, I resolved to tell her on a night I’ve been planning for weeks.
Now I ask myself why I didn’t tell her anything immediately after Voldemort’s demise. I probably wasted my chance while ‘grieving’ and ‘sorting’. Two days before I planned to tell her the truth, I went to the Burrow to celebrate Ron’s promotion to starting keeper for the Cannons. It started as it always had when we gathered there. Fred and George were throwing pranks at anybody and everybody, Mrs. Weasley in the kitchen preparing food. Everyone was having a good time chatting about their jobs and goings on. The crowd was quite large this time around. The gang from Hogwarts was there, Hermione, Luna, Neville, and Susan among others. All the Weasleys except for Percy was there. Also Ron’s teammates and others from the Order were present. The dinner was excellent as usual, and Ron stood up to make an announcement. I expected he’d brag about his new position and he did not disappoint. However, what followed I did not expect. He drew a small box from his pocket, opened it to reveal a ring and looking at Hermione asked her to marry him. I was dumbstruck. Not because he asked her but because she accepted!
To say I was dazed is an understatement. A million questions flooded into my mind. Questions like how the bloody hell did this happen? Why didn’t anyone tell me they were seeing each other? When did this begin? How could I have not seen this? A million questions that all seem so pointless now. No one there noticed how angry I felt then, a forlorn hope singeing my heart. Not even when Ron and Hermione talked to me and apologized for not telling me. Said they tried a number of times but never got to it because they thought it would alienate my friendship with them. Nobody noticed what I was going through mainly because I had a huge grin plastered to my face! It took all my effort to mask my emotions. A testament to how well Snape taught me! Of course I told them it was all right and that I was happy for them. In some way I meant that, at least they were happy. But that did little to stop the growing void in my heart. In the end I agreed to be Ron’s best man. Thankfully they won’t be married till next year. It seems they both agreed to prepare first before tying the knot. I made an excuse and left early before I lost control and start hexing them all.
I continued my training with fury. So well was my performance that I was made into a full-time Auror well ahead of time before my peers. I made the headquarters my new home. I was itching to get something to occupy my mind, to push that awful idea of Ron and Hermione away. I took and solved any case that came my way. Moody was so impressed with my concentration and work that he was seriously contemplating to take me up as an apprentice, not that I would’ve minded. There’s even a running joke about me inheriting that thing Moody calls an eye.
Tonks, however, wasn’t pleased. She cornered me one day and asked what had gotten into me. She demanded to know what the hell I was doing with my life. I couldn’t blame her for worrying. I hardly slept and ate at the time. All I had to drive me on was the work. I wasn’t ready to have that conversation with her so I did what I had to do - distract her. I flashed her a smile, that smile which many of my ‘fans’ say I could melt them with. I said everything was just peachy, and assured her that I’d take a nap after I grab a meal. I then put a hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a quick peck on the cheek. Apparently, that did the trick. She was rooted to the ground when I made a hasty getaway.
A few more weeks passed as I became increasingly obsessed with my work. I hadn’t even bothered reading the messages now littering my office. I was knee deep in a case. The task was simple enough, identify and track down whoever was passing counterfeit galleons to the unsuspecting wizarding populace and report back to headquarters. I led a team of four, all fresh recruits. We’ve been staking out an old apartment near the docks for days waiting for a break. One night, paydirt! The culprits were a group of out-of-school wizards. If I only knew what would happen next I wouldn’t have been so impulsive. Deciding that this’ll be a piece of cake, I signaled for the others to round the juveniles up. Chaos ensued, spells flying to and fro. Being Aurors, we eventually overpowered them, I overpowered them. I knew I was in trouble when I sent a wayward Reductor curse and exploded a wall behind two of the culprits, bricks battering their bodies from behind. It landed both of them in St. Mungos with heavy injuries. It was good luck that it wasn’t anything the medi-witches couldn’t handle.
A suspension lasting until next month was handed to me the next day for disobeying orders, recklessness, and using excessive force. No amount of fame will get me out of this one, not that I wanted to get out of this unpunished anyway. I made a mistake and I’m paying for it. Maybe it’ll be better if I cool down for awhile, get my act together.
Now I pace around my flat, restless, the reality that I lost track of my life staring back at my face. I set out to be happy and ended miserable. The future I thought I could have is gone. Sure I can just suck it all up and go on living with what fate deals me but it just wouldn’t be the same. I have no family I can call my own, my career all but tarnished, and love denied me from the only woman I can ever imagine to spend my life with. All I have are memories with no vision of the future.
I’ve taken to looking at my parent’s picture more and more these days. They look so happy. Will I ever find happiness such as they’ve found? Will it be even possible with my memories haunting me with depression? At times I am tempted to just end it all; but no. In my heart I do not want to die. I want to live. I want to be enraptured with the thought of a new day. If only I knew how. If only there was a way to start anew…
…but there is a way!
Harry snapped awake from his thoughts. With renewed purpose he went to the kitchen and ate his first meal in days. He needed his strength. He knew he had to make preparations. It’s been awhile, and now he knew exactly what to do.
End Prologue
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Author’s Note
The prologue was written with Harry’s POV in mind. I tried depicting how a sleep-deprived, possibly famished, and emotionally spent Harry would muse and talk to himself. And before you ask, no, I do not know what it feels like to not eat and sleep for a few days nor have I tried to - it’s all fib(ed). I’ll leave it all up to you, the reader, to figure things out why certain paragraphs and sentences in this bit seem rough, incomplete and worded in some ways.
I apologize if some of you who find this piece short (it is, in my opinion). It used to be longer but I made cuts and left out only those that would serve the purpose of this prologue. The first chapter will be considerably lengthier.
This’ll be an H/Hr fic eventually, nothing against the R/Hr and H/G crowd. I’ll just wait for the sixth and seventh books to see what ships develop. For now I’ll stick with H/Hr.
Oh and before I forget, I’ve noticed that the majority of fanfics on the net don’t give Neville much credit so I’ve decided to do him justice here. Expect him to make an appearance in the future.
All reviews are always welcome. Thank you for reading.
Title: A Desperate Occurrence
Author: ligs
Disclaimer: See Prologue.
A Desperate Occurrence
Chapter 1 – Owl Creek
“Where do you want these boxes dad?” A young man of about twenty-five standing near the doorway asked the elderly barkeep, who was currently cleaning a large glass mug, with a tinge of impatience. “My arms are killing me!”
Jonathan Wintergreen, an aging man of stout build, paused for a second, adjusting his turtle-rimmed glasses, looked at the man he proudly called his son.
“Just put them over the counter, m’boy.” The old man replied with amusement.
As he watched the boy start unloading the boxes, he can’t help but reminisce back to six years ago. “Six years. It’s been that long.” He said to himself with a chuckle.
“What was that dad?”
“Nothing, you know me, when you get older, son, you tend to forget where you are and just relive the good ol’ days.”
The young man just smiled, shaking his head as he was oft to do.
“Why don’t you help your mother at the kitchen when you’re finished, I’m sure she won’t mind.”
“Okay. I just need to pick up a few things for the party. I’ll help her when I get back.” With that he started to walk towards the door. “I won’t be long.” He called as he went outside.
“Jonathan was that Harry?” called a woman’s voice from the kitchen.
“He just left, dear, said he had to pick up a few things for tonight.”
Harry. Jonathan Wintergreen thought, going back to his contemplation. It was six years ago on this day when he found a young lad passed out near his modest vineyard. He was on his way to check on his land, as he does every crack of dawn, when a peculiar bird caught his eye. A snowy, white owl perched on the far end of a fence post looking directly at him. Living at the countryside, he’d seen many of the bird’s kind but this one was different. It intrigued him on how the owl seemed to assess him, hooting regally as if beckoning him to come forward, addressing him as a king would his court. Gingerly he stepped forward towards the bird, noticing that the owl made no attempt to flee. Reaching the area, he found a boy slumped on the ground, his back to the post. On closer inspection, he could tell that the boy had spent the evening there, cold but nonetheless alive. The only thing on his mind was to bring the boy back to town and have a physician look at him.
This was big news in the small community of Owl Creek, a small, countryside town at the farther reaches of the British Isles. Seldom did they have visitors, much less unconscious ones. Almost the entire town came and crammed the Winter Leaf, a pub that he and his wife, Martha, ran. The physician arrived and began his examination. It was funny how the townspeople hung at his every word. Thank the Lord the boy was alright.
“You’re thinking about when Harry came to us right?” Jonathan looked at his wife who was now standing behind him, arms wrapped in a firm hug.
“I can’t help it.”
“I know what you mean. He’s the son we never had. He is a godsend.”
“He is, isn’t he.” He replied, more a statement than a question.
He could still remember the first time Harry regained consciousness, like it just happened yesterday. It was four in the morning when he went to check on their guest only to find an empty bed. He went down to the pub and heard noise coming from the kitchen. He still couldn’t believe it, the boy was up and washing dishes, of all things to do, and the same snowy owl he saw at the vineyard was now perched on the backrest of a chair.
“I do feel guilty though. I wish we could help him more.” His wife whispered, snapping him from his reverie.
“We did what we could for him.” He sighed.
In his talks with Harry it was clear that the boy was no nearer to remembering his past as to when he first came to. Only remembering fragments of his past, parents murdered, living with abusive relatives, his dead godfather, and an orphanage or school of some sort called Hogwarts and its teachers; but that’s it. No memory of anything detailed or recent that happened in his life. No recollection of what kind of education he received, where he was from, names of any friends, nothing much of value that will help him find his beginnings, only his name – Harry Potter. Calling for information about the Potters, the Blacks, and Hogwarts returned with nothing. Martha flatly refused to call the Dursleys, much to Harry’s relief.
Maybe this was why they felt so drawn to Harry. Aside from him being polite, helpful, and caring, the lad deserved to be loved. Harry himself didn’t seem too disturbed that he can’t recall his own history, and he voiced his sentiments a year later when he asked if he could stay with them. There was no way they’d say no, especially when Martha had started calling him ‘son’.
It is amazing how someone can endear himself with everyone in such a short period of time. Harry came to Owl Creek as a stranger and it only took a few months for him to be family. The locals have taken an immediate liking to him. The mere presence of the lad seemed to brighten up their day. And so every first of August is celebrated as Harry’s ‘birthday’.
Turning to his wife, he said “Do you think he’ll like his present?”
“Oh he’ll love it, you big softy! I don’t know about his ‘suitors’ though.” She answered with a hearty laugh.
Jonathan and his wife had taken to teasing Harry about his so called ‘suitors’. He attracted women like bees to honey, why, even young women as far as the next town came just to get a glimpse of him which Jonathan didn’t mind. It was good for the business.
A soft knock is heard from the outside. “Harry? Are you home?”
Still laughing, his wife moved to answer the door. “Bet you a penny it’s Kate.”
“No bet. I know it’s her. Who else would come this early?” Jonathan called back.
Kate Allen is Harry’s best-friend, or so she says. The town doctor’s daughter accompanied her father when he first looked on Harry. Since then she’d come and visit regularly even when Harry was given a clean bill of health. Martha had often joked about how Harry was lucky to have his own nurse. There is no doubt that Kate found Harry different from the boys here in town, and it was that difference that intrigued her. Of course, the whole town, by now, knows she fancies Harry.
“Good morning Mr. Wintergreen!,” said a cheery voice belonging to a lovely young woman with rich black hair and expressive eyes, waving at him. It was Kate.
“Why don’t you come in, dear, I’m sure Harry’s on his way back.” He heard his wife say. “Would you like some tea?” She offered.
“That would be wonderful Mrs. Win-”
“Just call me Martha,” the older woman interrupted, “you’ll find it easier than saying ‘Mrs. Wintergreen’ every time you address me.” His wife walked towards the kitchen.
“Er, y-yes, Martha.” Kate replied.
“So Kate, what brings you this early? Nothing wrong I hope.” Jonathan asked her while taking a seat opposite her from the table where she sat.
“Oh! Nothing of that sort, really.” Then in a lower tone, “I just have something to tell Harry.” This earned an amused look from Jonathan. ‘Is she saying what I think she’s saying,’ he mused, not suppressing a feel of mirth.
“So you finally decided to make the first move then?” Martha came out carrying a tray laden with cups and a teapot. “You’d have to. My son’s a bit daft when it comes to that department.”
“Harry’s not that daft, dear.”
“Well what do you call someone who has had a beautiful woman in front of him for the last six years and not notice, hmm?”
She had a point. Looking at Kate, who by now was sporting a tinge of pink on her cheeks, Jonathan drifted back his thoughts to Harry. He knew the boy well, and Harry is not daft, on the contrary, he’s quite perceptive to what others feel. He’d seen how the boy acted with Kate. It often astounded him how Harry can lavish such love and care on her but there was something that always held him back. There were times when he thought the two would surely hook up but every time there was a spark Harry would inexplicably pull away.
“Isn’t that a coincidence Jonathan?”
“Sorry. What was that dear?” he said staring at his wife.
“Kate here was telling how her father has allowed her to go to London and study medicine. She’ll be leaving tomorrow.”
“That’s good news Kate. Why don’t you go with Harry? I’ll be driving him to the train station next town tomorrow afternoon.”
“W-Why would Harry be going to London?” Kate’s interest was piqued.
“Well I don’t want you to worry or anything but Harry’s been having dreams lately, strong dreams at that. Jonathan and I think he’s starting to remember his past, sometimes he’d keep mumbling about ‘diagonally London’ and a leaky cauldron in his sleep. We figured if he went to London it might help him recall some things.”
“Mind you he doesn’t know yet. We plan to surprise him tonight.” Jonathan added.
“See, we’ve managed to scrape enough for him to stay there for a month. Hopefully it’ll be enough.”
“But where will he stay? You don’t expect him to find a room that quickly, do you?” Kate asked hurriedly.
“We –”
“I can ask my aunt if she has a spare room if you want. That way you’ll know he’s safe. You can contact him on the phone and check if he finds out any anything. My aunt and I can accompany him when he goes out…”
“Okay Kate. Okay.”
“Really?,” her tone hopeful.
“Yes.”
“I’ll tell father right now!,” and with that she bounded to the door with excitement.
“Don’t forget. Tomorrow afternoon.”
“I won’t. Bye Mr. and Mrs. Wintergreen! I’ll be back for the party later.” With a final wave she was gone.
“Ah! Young love.”
“Harry will be surprised.” Jonathan said chuckling.
“She is right, you know. At least we won’t be too worried for Harry’s safety.”
“She still has to ask for her aunt’s permission Martha.”
“Do you think Kate will take no for an answer?”
“No.”
“There you have it.” Martha said matter-of-factly.
Perhaps this was meant to be. Harry going to London with Kate, at least he won’t be alone. Kate will definitely help him. Jonathan has a feeling Harry’s going to need all the support he can get on this journey. He had always feared Harry will leave them once he regained his memories but he consistently pushed that thought aside, especially now. He must be strong in his resolve for Harry. He will help him. No matter the outcome, Harry will always be his son.
The front door opened and a white owl swooped inside landing on the counter followed by Harry.
“Hi mum. Hey dad. I just met Kate outside. She was acting a bit, I don’t know, giddy. Did I miss anything?”
“Not much. Now that you’re here, let’s get this place ready.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The party soon drew to a close, only a few friends remained. Jonathan watched from his place behind the counter, cleaning up. There was Kate helping Harry sweep the floor, now and then taking a peek at each other. She came back ecstatic, her aunt agreed to house Harry for as long as he needed. Martha was overjoyed.
Then there’s Pastor Greg Piper, Harry’s other best-friend, carrying plates to the kitchen. The blonde, curly-haired pastor, though four years his senior, was Harry’s confidante. He came to town almost the same time as Harry. After a few visits at home, the two hit it off splendidly, even though Harry seldom went to church. He’s also, probably, the only guy in town who’s not holding a grudge at Harry for ‘taking’ the female population of Owl Creek by storm. The good pastor has been there in Harry’s rough times, a solid rock, and an excellent listener and advisor to boot.
The eleven-year old kid running around wiping tables is Eli, son of widow Stevens. Harry has taken the lad under his wing. Both of them are notorious for pulling pranks, all harmless, on other kids.
There’s also Doc Allen, Mrs. Stevens, and the Calloways, all helping tidy the pub.
“Hey big bro’ why don’t you open your presents? There’s gotta be sumthin’ cool here we can use.” Eli was currently shaking a gift, trying to listen to what’s inside.
“Eli!”
“It’s okay Mrs. Stevens. Give it here Eli. Who’s it from?” Harry noted the gratitude on Eli’s face.
Eli handed Harry the present. “From old maid Patty, says so on the card.”
“So what did she give you this time?” Martha chimed.
It was a known fact that Patty gave the most obnoxious gifts to Harry. Just last Christmas she gave him a box of chopsticks which Harry has yet to use to this day.
“Think she’ll top off last year?” Eli said, laughing on the floor.
“Don’t remind me. I still have that jumbo jar of molasses in my room.” Harry tore open the gift. “Urk! A mirror and a comb.”
“Hahaha! The old kook prob’ly thinks you’re ugly!”
“Eli!” Mrs. Stevens chastised.
“Harry’s not ugly!” said Kate at the same time.
Still on the floor, Eli looked up at Kate “No offense sis but you’re biased.” The room erupted in laughter, Kate pink with embarrassment.
The gift was, again, practically useless. Not for the reason the others thought, Harry’s hair has a mind of its own no matter how many times you comb it. It was useless for a very different reason, Jonathan thought. Harry once told him how he hated looking directly at his own reflection in a mirror. Something about his eyes staring coldly back at him.
“Why don’t you open mine Harry?” Greg handed him his gift.
Harry opened the present, “I knew I could count on you Greg.” pulling out a blue traveling bag. “Only problem is I’m not doing much traveling anytime soon.”
“Don’t be too sure. You never know when you’ll need it.”
Jonathan and his wife told the young pastor about their plan to send Harry to London and he thought it was a very good idea.
“Thanks mate.”
“Glad you liked it.” patting Harry’s back.
“Here! Open this next!” Harry accepted the gift Eli thrust into his hands. Looking at the card, “To big bro’ Happy Birthday! From Eli.”
“And it cost me a fortune too!”
Kate, taking the opportunity to get back at the boy, said “Knowing you, that’ll amount to about a penny.” The young Stevens scowled at her.
“A wallet! Thanks bro’, didn’t know you can be thoughtful.”
“Heeeey!”
“No. Really, thanks. This will come in handy.” Harry appeased the boy.
Mrs. Stevens beamed at her son. Ever since his father died, Eli had become withdrawn, if it wasn’t for Harry who brought him out of the rut. He had a positive effect on the boy.
“Oi sis! What did you get Harry?”
“M-me?” Kate was caught of guard.
“Yeah. Yours,” Eli said challengingly. Obviously taking delight in teasing her.
“Manners, Eli!”
“Sorry bro’. Sorry sis.” the boy said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head.
“Ah! Here it is.” Harry took a book-shaped gift from the small pile at a table. “It’s a journal isn’t it?” he exclaimed without even opening the gift.
“How did you know?” Kate asked astounded.
He smiled at her. “You always know what to get me even if I never told anyone.” She blushed at his comment. “I’ve been meaning to get one. I just kept forgetting. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome Harry.”
Martha looked at them knowingly, another sweet moment between the two. If only nothing will ruin it. Luck isn’t on their side tonight.
“Oi! Any sweeter and I’d have to go to a dentist!”
“Eli!” His mother smacked him up the head.
The rest of the audience just chuckled. The two would-be lovers turned away, red all over. Jonathan wondered if it was time to give Harry their present. He looked at his wife, Martha, who nodded. During the past weeks, he’d been feeling a bit apprehensive. On one side he was afraid of losing the boy. He and his wife loved him and have grown to depend on him. On the other hand the boy needed this. Although Harry didn’t voice his desires to know his past, he had become a bit restless, particularly in his sleep. Sometimes Jonathan would find him staring into space, no doubt having bits and pieces of his memory unravel in his mind. They had to do this for him, if not for peace of mind then at least for closure.
Slowly he walked toward his son of six years and pulled out an envelope handing it to Harry. “Happy Birthday son,” Martha now stood beside him.
Harry opened the envelope; with wide eyes he looked back to the man he called his father. “What’s this?”
“Listen son, before you say anything, your mother and I want you to know that we love you. What you have there is a train ticket to London and some money. You have to understand how difficult this is for us but we’ve decided that you deserve to know who you really are, it is time son, and it is for the best. Take your time in London. Kate’s aunt has agreed to take you in while you are there. Always remember that your mother and I will be here waiting and praying for you. You will always have a home to return to.”
Martha moved in to give Harry a warm hug. He was so overwhelmed by emotion he couldn’t say anything. Tears clouding his vision, he managed to mumble a small, heartfelt thank you. Straightening up he walked over to Jonathan, who grasped his hand in a handshake. “I’ll always treasure what you and Martha have done for me.”
“We know son.”
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Harry lay on his bed, staring up the ceiling, Hedwig in her cage by the window looking at her master. The party ended hours ago and it was now two in the morning. “London, Hedwig. Can you believe it?” The bird only hooted in response.
His adoptive parents had given him the best gift he could hope for, the chance to find his roots. True, there was a time when he was contented to stay, an impression that told him it was better to remain where he was, and part of him still does. At the back of his mind, a nagging sensation keeps telling him not to make the trip, and he would have acceded just that this was difficult to pass up.
Whatever doubts he had, he pushed back. Whatever the outcome, good or bad, he will find his answers.
He shifted to his side and closed his eyes. He needed to try and get some sleep. And that is another reason he desperately wanted to go, his dreams. It had grown stronger the past few months, more vivid, dreaming of people he couldn’t remember.
As Harry drifted off to sleep, he dreamed of one face that has permeated his subconscious repeatedly, a face with wide, brown eyes and bushy, brown hair. “I will find her.” He whispered.
Hedwig flapped her wings as her master stirred in his slumber.
TBC
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Author’s Note
I had this chapter finished for quite a while but didn’t post it. I edited a number of parts and deemed some of it better in future chapters. I also apologize for taking this long to update. Been busy with a play I’m writing. Hopefully I’ll have more free time these coming weeks.
Next chapter is ‘Return to London’.
Again thanks for reading. Reviews are greatly appreciated.