In Between

But trying to be genuine was harder than it seemed
But somehow I got caught up in between
-Linkin Park, In Between


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He awoke to a pounding in his head, and a distinctly uncomfortable feeling in his left hand. Shifting a bit, he realized he'd been laying on it, and the discomfort was pins and needles stabbing into him from the lack of blood flow to his wrist for some length of time. He knew these things, though he didn't know where he was, how he'd arrived there, or anything else. Sitting up, he realized he didn't recognize his surroundings, and was almost worried before he heard the crackle of paper from his pocket.

Taking the letter, he looked at it, and was surprised to find letters appearing. Maybe it was invisible ink or something.

"Dearest Harry," it said. Open Me.

Well, that was simple. Sliding his finger beneath the seal, he unfolded the letter. A few small plastic cards fell out, and he looked at them curiously. One of them read, "Harry Evans" beneath a long number. It read Visa in the corner, and Chartway in flowing blue letters at the top. Setting it aside, he looked at the other one. This one read "Harry Evans" also, and had a picture of an attractive bloke with green eyes and black hair. He tugged a lock of his hair into his face, and realized it was black. Maybe he was Harry Evans, then? Made sense. The names were familiar. On the card with the picture were various details about his life. There was a blue square that read UK in a circle of stars, and it contained a random stream of numbers as well as his name. Next to the larger picture, was 493 Willow Way, Godrics Hollow, Wiltshire, England followed by some more numbers.

He placed this next to the Chartway Visa card, and rifled through the papers. It seemed to be a long letter, also addressed to him.

Your name is Harry Evans. I know you don't have any memory, but trust me, you're better off this way. Let me tell you what I can about you.

Whomever had written this sounded as though they'd known him. This was promising! Leaning against the fence he'd woken up next to, he settled in to read.

If all things went according to plan, you should find yourself on the outskirts of a small town called Godric's Hollow. You're in Wiltshire, England, and it's okay because you speak English.

Witty, Harry thought, smiling in spite of himself.

You're probably wondering what the things I've included are. The card with your picture is your driving licence. You'd best not try anything fancy until you relearn how to drive, but you do know, and you have a car. It's in the garage at your home. The other card is your bank card. Best get a wallet and keep them in there. You have a lot of money, but I wouldn't suggest spending it all at once. Better to save it, actually, in case you actually need it. Your house is stocked for a war, so you really shouldn't need much.

This is the bad part, however, so sit down, and prepare yourself. You're alone. You have no friends left; they were all killed in the car accident that caused you to lose your memory. Your parents were killed a long time ago, and there's no one else. You've lived a good life up until the crash, and I've given you back these things with the hope that you can have a good life again. Start over. You deserve to be happy. I wish there was more I could tell you, but I think this is where I have to leave you. You live on Willow Way in Godric's Hollow, so first, ask if that's where you are, and if it is, find your house. Good luck, Harry.

--Potter

The mysterious Potter sounded like an okay chap, but he'd said that all of Harry's friends were dead. Didn't that mean that he himself was dead as well? Or was he really a friend?

Curious, he stood up and wandered out into the main road. He located an open store, and went in.

"May I ask something strange?" he asked the kindly looking store-keep. She smiled.

"Certainly," she offered. "Ask away, Harry."

This was stunning, and for a moment he didn't say anything. "Yes, Harry, that's me isn't it? I don't remember anything. Could you tell me where I am? And the year?"

Her smile turned sad, and she nodded. "You're in Godric's Hollow, Harry, and the year is 1998."

The driving licence had listed his birthday as July thirty first, 1980, which would make him eighteen. Eighteen, and all alone.

"Thank you, ma'am. And the way to Willow Way?" She took a look at his card, and nodded.

"Go straight down this street that way," she said, pointing. "And then when you reach Phoenix Street, you'll want to be taking a left. Willow way is the first street on the right, and I'm sure you can find your way to your house from there."

"Thank you so much!" he whispered, and she smiled. "Would you... tell me your name?"

"My name is Shawna Kennet. It's nice to meet you again, Harry." She put her hand out, and he shook it firmly before thanking her again and leaving to find his house.

*

Willow Way was home to the larger, more modern homes in Godric's Hollow, and it was halfway down the short, curved road that he found his home. The mail box listed "Evans" on either side, next to the number 493, which was also on the front porch, proudly displaying the numbers in gold.

Harry stopped out front to look at the house. The yard was well tended, the flower beds blooming and pretty, the willow tree healthy looking. The grass was pure emerald green, displaying no signs of weeds or crab grass, and the stones leading to the door were a neat pale tan colour, blending well with the grass. He took a deep breath, and walked up to the door.

Unsure of what else he could do, he pressed the door bell. A melodic chime sounded from inside the house, but nothing moved. He was surprised at the size of the house, considering it was only one story high. That wasn't including what was obviously an attic, of course, and he figured that there might be a basement, but wasn't counting on it. Letting himself in, he paused.

The house was immaculate. Everything sparkled, gleamed, shone, or twinkled at him, and for a moment the sheer cleanliness of it nearly drove him back into the street. Taking a deep breath to fortify himself, he slipped out of his shoes, and took a step in.

"Hello? Is anyone in here?"

His voice echoed around as only a voice in an empty house will echo, but after a moment he heard an answering bell from somewhere deeper in. A second after the bell, a green-eyed black cat came trotting into the front hall, launching itself at him when it saw him. He laughed as the cat jumped straight up into his arms, and he held it there, stroking it while it purred. A small note stuck to the wall caught his attention. It was written in the same sprawling handwriting his original letter had been in, and he assumed that it was Potter who'd left him the note.

The cat's name is Faydra

Just that, stuck to the wall on a lined piece of yellow paper. "Faydra, huh?" Harry asked the cat, who mewled by way of reply. He carried the petite delicate cat further into the house until she squirmed to be let down. Harry found a coat rack, a closet with various other pairs of shoes and jackets, and curiously, a cloak of some sort. There were some albums on the top shelf, and he had to stand on the step ladder he found nearby to reach them. He flipped through a few of them, but saw no one he recognized, and put them back. He returned the step ladder to the place he'd found it, behind the coat rack and small table with a bowl and some coins. Here he found another note, and a small green packet with some black markings on it.

Here's your wallet, the note read, helpfully, and he opened it. There were spaces for the cards he'd found with the letter, and there were some bills in the wide open space. Put your driving license and bank card in the spaces for cards. Make sure the license is facing outward, in the clear pocket. Make sure you take this wallet with you whenever you go out.

There were also a set of keys in the bowl, but no other notes. He tucked the cards into their assigned spots, and left his wallet where it had been found, moving further into the house.

The front hallway immediately opened up into a spacious sitting room, with a large couch and a reclining chair. The carpet was a pretty cream colour, as were the walls, but all of the furniture was black. The couch, chair, coffee table, side tables, and entertainment center were colourless and patternless, as far as he could tell. The coffee table had a few coasters on it that didn't look used; merely set out for use. The glass of the tabletop sparkled, as did the television screen.

He had no idea how he knew what the television, phone, and dvd player were, but he identified them on sight and realized that he knew how to use them, as well. There was another note by the phone.

This is your home phone number - 01462 219749

Harry ran his hands along the new looking phone, wondering if it had ever been used. This entire house had been well taken care of, but not lived in at all, and he wondered why. There were remotes on top of the television, and a dazzling array of movies on either side of the structure. The drawers at the bottom held more movies, and a few CDs. There seemed to be no order or reason to the collection; just a smattering of different titles, nothing to give away the owner of the movies.

He left the sitting room and found a dining room. It was, as everything else, untouched, though the china hutch and table both matched the set of four chairs. There was an entire set of plates, dishes, and cups in the hutch, and silverware in the drawers. The dining room let into the kitchen, which finally looked like it had seen some human habitation. There were two bowls down on the floor, one filled with cat food, the other with water. There were plants in here, and some crumbs on the counter. It was modern and chic looking, though everything was still black. There was a toaster, near the crumbs, and a microwave, two ovens, one on top of the other, though both were small, and a large refridgerator. He opened it, and found that the letter had spoken truly; there was enough food in there to feed an army.

Closing the over stuffed fridge, the freezer, by comparison, was relatively empty. There was a box of fudgsicles, and a lone twinkie, but nothing else. The cabinets were likewise stuffed to overfull, and there was a less posh set of plates and silverware that were obviously designed for every day use. The pantry was so full he could barely get into it, and he wondered what he or Potter, or whomever had stocked up, had been expecting. It seemed as though they were expecting to be locked in here for a great deal of time. The rubbish bin he found in one of the cabinets, and in it was an empty can of coke, and a hastily folded paper towel. At least it was something, though, and he felt relieved that at least someone had been here once. The kitchen lead into what he could only call 'the laundry room' as it had shelves with detergent and fabric softener, dryer sheets, a large washer and dryer - black, of course - and several baskets. The laundry room had a door that lead outside, and Harry glanced out into one of the most sumptuous garden he'd ever laid eyes on. Sunflowers, rose bushes, pansies, posies, daffodils, carnations, every manner of flower he could even imagine was out there, all of it planted in such a way as to make a lovely spectacle to behold. The grass was just as green, and there were small stepping stones that lead through the floral explosion to what seemed like a pond. Harry let himself out, following them back. A large water garden lay hidden behind another willow tree. A statue of a large buck deer stood watchfully over the pond, clusters of lily flowers all around.

It was breathtakingly beautiful, and Harry vowed to take care of it all. There was something about the deer surrounded by flowers that struck at Harry's memory, but nothing came forward to explain itself. Tucked behind the willow tree, out of sight of the house, was a small shed. Harry went in, exploring, and found another note.

The deer and lilies are very important. Don't lose them. Feed the fish.

Startled, he realized that the note had been sitting next to a large can of what could only be fish food, judging by the fish on the label. He took the can, and sprinkled some of it into the pond, and was delighted when a group of the biggest goldfish he'd ever seen swam up and began eating. Somewhere from the back of his mind he realized that they were koi fish, and gave them some more before returning the can to the shed. There were gardening tools in here, as well, and he looked through the seed packets before he left.

There were an abundance of lilies, but no petunias. This struck him as odd somehow, but he ignored it, and returned to his exploration of the house. On the other side of the kitchen was another door that lead into the garage, and he fetched the keys he'd seen earlier, pressing the button. The car parked there flashed its lights, and he climbed in. It was extraordinarily familiar, and he recalled that he was licensed to drive. Maybe he'd go explore in the car when he was done settling in. Also in the garage was a black motorcycle, and he realized belatedly that the car was leaf green, the only non-black thing he'd found yet.

Leaving the garage, he replaced the keys where he'd found them, and walked down the hallway that left off the living room. There was nothing on the walls, anywhere, and it was disconcerting. The first thing he told himself he was going to do was buy some pictures to put around, something - anything - to make it feel more like home.

He found a large bathroom with a whirlpool tub and a separate shower in a glass box, and sighed happily. The bathroom was decorated in blues and greens, a pleasant splash of colour in the black and white house. The other door was a closet that contained towels and blankets, and a few extra pillows, and on the last door, he found another note.

This is your room.

He took the note from the door, sticking it to the collection he'd had of the notes, and went in. In a shocking change from the black and white of the rest of the house, his room was the most human of the whole thing. The bed was in a disarray, there were clothes scattered everywhere, a towel lay half in, half out of a knocked over laundry basket, as though tossed there haphazardly and forgotten.

The colour everywhere was almost painful to him, and he sighed briefly as he realized that at least he did have clothes here. There was an open closet near the bookshelf, which was also stuffed to overflowing, and he peeked in. There was an entire array of clothes in every imagineable colour, cut, shape, and size. There were some more shoes on the floor, dress shoes and wellies, and a pair of sandals. In the very back of the closet hung some grey sweaters and red ties striped with gold. The sweaters also had red stripes along them, and he wondered about them. There was a single long, thin box under the strange sweaters, and its presence drew his attention to a few black ... coats. Pulling them out, he realized they were robes, and of a coarse, heavy material. There was a patch on the side of them that contained a lion, and read Gryffindor along the bottom. It meant nothing to him, and he replaced the robes behind the sweater. Picking up the box, he opened it and found a long, thin stick. Another note could be found on the under side of the lid.

This is your wand. Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather core. I had to leave it behind because it wouldn't work. Please forget that it's here, and keep it safe for me. - Potter

Harry put it back where he'd found it, and set about picking up the clothes on the floor. He folded them all neatly, and put them back into the open drawers. He found a stereo, with a Beethoven CD still in it, and turned it on. He went to make the bed once the mess on the floor was cleaned up, and was surprised to find that it was a water bed. Grinning, he flopped backwards onto it, feeling the water rock him gently, and wondered what kind of life he'd lived before.

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TBC

I know, it doesn't make much sense yet. I've gotta go to work XDD Or I'd keep writing. Thank you for the reviews so far you guys, I hope you like this next chapter!