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Title: Home
 A bitter and wet wind ruffled the yellow tufts of grass on the uneven turf. A young wizard scanned the property with sad green eyes. It was terribly heartbreaking to see the area in such a desolate state. However, the entire region, though innocent in appearance, reeked of magic. Once Harry had stepped onto the dry, cracked grass it had been attracted to him like he was a magnet. It seemed to find some kind of identifying feature on Harry's feet, so that the land had rippled around him in acknowledgement. Then, in a way a parent would to a child in need of guidance, a large tree branch had literarily taken him by the hand. It led him a little ways in the direction of the overgrown rubble that had been Harry's first Home, Godric's Hollow. Then it gently pushed him on; "Go and warm yourself by the fire," However much Harry was puzzled was by that strange parting he had needed no persuasion to investigate his Home. After carefully edging around the cracks in the earth before his house, which were presumably the markings left from the explosive Killing Curse, Harry found that although the rest of his Home was a wreck the splintered green door remained curiously standing. Even more curious was that when Harry ran his fingers over the peeling paint of it the door sprang open. After that it was like someone had flipped a switch metamorphosing a dark, gloomy room into an unexpectedly radiant room. As such, the remains of Home were suddenly no longer remains: the boards shook off dirt and overgrowth, quickly springing up and folding into what must have been a replica of Harry's Home. A warm glow was coming from inside the house. It was entirely too tempting to ignore given that Harry was dead on his feet. Therefore, Harry took a bold step forward and over the threshold. Immediately, the house warmed to him. Directly inside Harry found a lovely stone hearth with a bright fire merrily crackling in it. He sank with great relief into a cushy red armchair by the fire. After all his troubles and wet journeys through a week of consistent rain he had finally made it Home. Harry was starting to feel his toes again, and the raindrops and gusting wind were safely locked outside. "HehIshoo! HehIsheh! HehISHehhh!" Although, he wished he could have left his burgeoning cold out there with them. After all, a week of cold rain and little sleep could do that to a person; even if that person wasn't just a person-but a wizard and that wizard wasn't just a wizard-but the famed Harry Potter. When Harry had been substantially warmed by the fire his sense of curiosity drove him from his comfortable seat. He wrapped a warm, golden cream afghan around his shoulders and snatched up his wand from where he'd rested it on a small side table. The house seemed to swell and creak, as if it had been waiting for him and was sighing an impatient "at last". The first room he stumbled upon was the kitchen. It was a cozy room lit by another, but bigger stone fireplace. There was a great black cauldron steaming over the fire and filling the room with a heavenly scent of thick, rich chocolate. Harry peered into it confirming his nose was correct; it was indeed a cauldron full of hot chocolate. Harry grabbed a dark blue mug from the counter and dipped his cup in for a sample. Warm, thick, rich liquid chocolate filled his mouth and warmed his belly. Harry moaned with divine delight, melting to the floor, but caught himself. He filled his mug to the very top to continue his explore. As Harry strolled through the hall leading to the loo and an unknown room, following the many pictures of flowers and landscapes covering the walls, he thought about the house. Harry thought it was rather odd. It responded to his needs, and it was indeed strange that the house should just pop up out of the earth. However, the magic didn't feel like it wished him ill, but rather was something he should be able to identify. It was on the tip of his tongue but he just couldn't put a name to it. "HuhIsheh! HehIshuhh!" Harry sniffled as he bypassed the loo and entered the next room. Luckily enough a box of tissues was perched in the next room, which Harry made use of before actually looking at the rest of it. The room housed a large bed, some dressers and chairs, and a smattering of pictures adorned the walls. However, these weren't like the pictures in the hallway, for these they had people in them. Harry pursued the wall around finding pictures of the Marauders, of Lily, of some people Harry didn't know, and then of himself next to a light blue door. "HehIshHEHH!" Harry sneezed miserably; "HuhIshHOO! Hehhh...ehhh...HehISHHHAH!" The room swelled in a blessing. Harry went back for some tissues before continuing into a side room. Even around the tissues held up to his face and squinting eyes preparing for another sneeze Harry at once knew what the room was, or more precisely whose room it was. "HihISHuhhh!" "Stubid, ruddy dose!" Harry grumbled hotly with still closed eyes and a painful expression on his face. He sniffled unsuccessfully and finally lifted his face. The sight of the nursery made Harry feel better, or at least forget his symptoms for a time. It had his old white crib, a basket of his baby toys, and a small bookshelf. Harry was instantly drawn to the basket of toys eager to compare his toys from his early childhood to those of Dudley's. There was a quite obvious difference-Harry's toys were magical and could move, talk, and change shape all on their own. Harry grinned at the thought of Dudley's face if he could have seen these toys, and then at the vision of his Aunt and Uncle's faces when they saw their son knee-deep in a sea of magical toys. He grabbed one game after the other inspecting and trying each. A tiny tic tac toe game was the last of which he picked up. "You know me so well!" the little tic tac toe game cried repeatedly as Harry easily bested it ten times in a row. Harry yawned, rubbed his nose, and agreed with the little game that looked like he'd last used it when he was teething. Perhaps he hadn't been very good at that game when he was little but he was too good for it now. He gathered up the litter of toys he'd created after unceremoniously dumping the entire basket out across the carpet with a loud chorus of jingles and jangles and placed them back, before wandering over to inspect the bookshelf. There were a lot of thin children's books on the shelves with titles like Hilary the Hag and the Horrible Haircut and Wily the Werewolf and the Bellyache from Eating Granny Red Riding Hood (curtsey of Remus Lupin). There was only one untitled book on the shelf. It was thick with a handsome leather bound cover. Hoping for some late reading to further distract him from his head cold, Harry plucked the book from the shelf and carried it back to sit in front of the fire with. He tucked the box of tissues under his arm and the thick afghan, as he passed through what he assumed to be his parent's bedroom. Plus, scooped up some more of the delicious hot chocolate on his way through the kitchen. Finally, he settled back into the cozy red armchair by the fire and opened the book. It turned out to not be a book at all, but rather a photo album filled with baby pictures. Harry was entranced as he studied all the gurgling, grinning, happy photos. There were ones of his parents and himself, and ones of Sirius and himself, and ones of Remus and himself, and even ones of him playing with Dumbledore's beard. "HehIshHAH! IshHOO! HahISHHUHHH!" Harry suddenly and openly sneezed. When he opened his eyes the picture people were mutely crying with dismay at their tarnished surfaces. Harry quickly wiped down the pictures with an abashed apology. Two hours had passed filled with contented bliss, but an increase of cold symptoms. His head, for example, was both throbbing and stuffed with cotton by the time he finished with the photo album. He groaned softly and reclined into the chair, sweeping an arm up to shield his eyes from the light of the fire. Harry stayed there unmoving for a long moment. His face was beginning to soften into sleep when he was shaken awake with sneezes; "HehIshihhh! HihISHhahh! HihIshHOO!" Harry grumbled hotly under his breath at his nose, shifting in the armchair, and comically wiggling his sniffling nose. He was again seconds away from falling into the abyss of dreams when more pesky tickles paid homage to his nose. "HihKkhihshoo! HehIshhh! HuhISHHOOO!" This time Harry couldn't put aside his symptoms so easily. His nose was running heavily from the last bout of sneezing and he was forced to blow his reddening nose. The blowing was a heady procedure and left Harry dizzy, sick, and faintly woozy. He was feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the hot fire and the overpowering desire to change locations was brought to the forefront of his mind. Despite the sleepy haze he was still caught in, Harry struggled to his feet, snagging the tissue box at the last moment for a final and violent sneeze. He proceeded to moan and groan all the way through the kitchen and his parent's room until he came to a halt in front of his crib. Leaning over one of the pale side rails Harry fingered the flannel sheets that dressed his bed. They had magical teddy bears dancing across them. In his exhausted brain a light bulb went off, wouldn't it be nice to recreate a childhood moment and sleep in his crib? Harry could feel a pair of levers on the rail digging into his gut. Ever the curious one, Harry withdrew to inspect them. After a few false starts Harry found out the levers released the rail on the crib. He found them on all the rails of the crib, so that eventually the crib looked like a small bed with extraordinarily tall bedposts. Harry immediately curled up into a ball on his bed and covered himself with the teddy bear sheets. He didn't know how long he lay there watching the shadows stretch across the ceiling. His cold was making it very difficult to find sleep that night. Each sniffle seemed to further condemn him into the pits of misery, and each sneeze nearly made the bed collapse. The sheets on the small bed didn't entirely cover Harry either, so that he half shivered and half sweated from the generous heating charm that had been spelled over them. Harry imagined that his parents were just one room away, and that the house was doused in a golden glow, filled with the hushed murmurs of his imaginary parents in the next room. Despite all these illusions Harry created he couldn't seemed to fall asleep. It was then that Harry was honored by another childhood desire: to snuggle up between his parents in their bed. This seemed like a fantastic idea, as he really had outgrown his childhood bed and had a crick in his neck already. "HahISHHhoo! HihIshEHHHhh!" Harry rocked the bed to sounds of squeaky protest one last time then peeled himself from the bed. Once he was away from it he heaved a long sigh of relief. His bones were cracking from being in such a cramped position for so long. Looking down at the tiny bed Harry wondered how he had even fit. It was no wonder he was stiff and sore. When Harry saw his parent's bed he knew immediately that his choice was the right one. It was everything his bed wasn't: big. He, therefore, wasted no time crawling into the center of the bed like a little child seeking shelter from his nightmares. Harry hugged the tissue box to his side like it was his teddy bear. He found he had no need to stuff the bare spots in the large bed beside him into humanoid forms-he could already picture his parents lying right beside him, keeping him safe and warm. Harry was drifting off along the rivers leading to the pool of dreams at his feet when he was visited by an inkling of an abrupt understanding. He shot up in bed to better catch the realization before it totally fled. A long moment passed, before Harry hoarsely muttered the vestiges of his thought; "Nothing else matters..." He hadn't totally grasped the thought that had tiptoed unbidden into his mind at the time he had said those words, or who he had been talking to. Later, however, Harry preferred to think that he was thanking some imprint of his parents that had stayed in the land waiting for him to return, and to guide him to that photo album, and later their bed; to show him that nothing else had mattered more at that moment than feeling that all encompassing sensation of Home, of care, of belonging, of love. | |||||
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Created & Organized by A & tarotgal |
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