The tale of a green eyed angel
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Harry Potter › General
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Category:
Harry Potter › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,188
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The tale of a green eyed angel
-THE TALE OF A GREEN EYED ANGEL-
NOTE: I continued writing this story when my beta asked me to. She wrote the first two pages, and I brought it home. We each wrote our own things, I used my own imagination to finish what she had begun.
CO-WRITER: Hddninshdws
DISCLAIMER 2: Again, Own nothing, make no money. Belings to JK Rowling.
INFORMATION: www. livejournal. com /users/ draycious
PURE BLACK: http:// www. fanfiction. net/u/543246/
HDDNINSHDWS: http:// www. fanfiction. net/u/549186/
CONTACT: black_moore@hotmail.com
------------------------------------------------------
It was a beautiful and clear night out when the three Dursley’s and their young nephew Harry Potter were taking a slow walk through the large dark forest behind their home. The snow covered branches of the threes were hanging down heavily above their heads and the snow sparkled in the moonlight. The frost from their breaths came out in a clear and slow mist that hung in the air before the cloud evaporated into the night.
Unbeknownst to them, while they were enjoying the stillness of the night, storm clouds had began brewing up in the sky not too far from them and what was soon to be one of the coldest and harshest snow storms in decades was soon to hit.
Vernon Dursley looked up when he first started to notice the small white flakes falling from the dark sky. The stars were no longer visible, and the stormy clouds were taking over the sky like big thunderclouds in the summer, but yet the clouds right above them were grey and didn’t look that ominous yet. “Look Harry, Dudley.” Both aforementioned boys looked up at the sound of the man’s voice and their eyes followed in the direction of his pointing hand. Harry and Dudley looked up in awe at the falling flakes, their faces lighting up at the prospect of snow.
“It’s pretty.” Harry spoke up, his voice quiet, which was characteristic for him. Vernon and Petunia Dursley smiled at the small boy when they heard his voice. It was always a pleasure to hear the young boy speak. He didn’t do it very often, and nobody understood why. Vernon and Petunia thought that, perhaps, it was because of his past. Having to hear and watch his mother die to a mad man before said man turned on him as well was not something one could easily forget. That was only their assumption though, and they didn’t know whether it was correct or not. There was no evidence to prove them wrong nor was there anything to prove them right.
A snowflake glided down and landed on the small button nose of the green eyed boy, causing him to giggle. The small laugh earned three more bright smiles from his family. His laugh was something they heard even more seldom than his speech, no matter how much they tried to make him laugh. Nothing ever seemed to work, he never laughed unless he really found something amusing by himself.
They discovered when he was two and a half, that snow seemed to bring out the best of him, a side that almost no one but the Dursley’s ever got to see. Now, his bright green eyes absolutely sparkled with happiness as he watched the snowflakes dance down in front of him to land lightly on the ground. To see him that happy was a rarity. The Dursley’s watched him twirl in the falling beauty of the skies, his small arms stretched out above him. The Dursley’s watched in silent rapture, cherishing the moment as it played out before them.
Their moment of peace, however, was lost to them when the snow began falling so much that they were having trouble seeing their nephew, who continued dancing away, not hearing their frightened calls for him to come back. Their little boy was too caught up in his own momentary bliss.
-
Vernon watched in horror as his beloved nephew disappeared from his sight and ran after him, effectively disappearing into the night and out if his wife and son’s view. Vernon squinted his eyes trying to see something, anything, moving. He looked at the ground and tried to see the footprints of his nephew. He didn’t see any, so he wandered in what he thought as the right direction. He turned sharply to the left when he heard a small giggle, it was the same kind of laugh young children gave when they were playing hide and seek with the neighborhood kids and were on the verge of being found. At this point it wasn’t amusing Vernon the slightest. He just wanted his nephew to be found.
“Harry!” Vernon called into the night. He heard a giggle to the right this time, but saw nothing as he spun on his heal to look. He realized the snow was falling even faster now, and looking back in the direction he came from, he noticed that his footprints were already almost gone. Maybe he’s already with Petunia and Dudley, he thought hopefully. Standing still for a moment he listened to the quietness of the forest. There was no sound coming from any direction. Fear clenched his heart. Harry would die in this cold if he were out too long. Vernon took a shuddering breath, and with a heavy heart, he took one last look in the direction where he had last heard his nephew before he started walking back to his wife and child.
He didn’t know what else to do.
-
Harry giggled and danced along with the falling snow, his eyes bright and a happy smile on his sweet face. The world outside his own was forgotten for the moment; he didn’t care about anything but the snow.
“Harry, over here,” a voice suddenly called out to him. Harry’s eyes brightened even more, if possible.
“Tom!” Tom was Harry’s imaginary friend. The Dursley’s couldn’t’t see him, and neither could anyone else. Harry, as his friend always told him, was so much like Tom himself. They both had the same raven colored hair, and they both liked the same things. They also both had magic, Tom had told him about magic when he was younger. Harry liked magic; he was fascinated by it and listened with big eyes to all of Tom’s tales. Tom was also the one who made Harry like snow so much. He had made a promise to the young boy a couple of years ago, and Harry was always looking forward to Tom fulfilling that promise, the promise to see his parents again. “When the night is cold Harry, and the snow is falling so much that you can hardly see, I will take you to see your mom and your dad okay?” Harry had been three at the time, and could only believe what the man had said. He would never forget what he had been told, a promise to see his mom and dad. It meant the world to him. Tom was going to fulfill his promise tonight, the right time was now.
-
Vernon reached Petunia and Dudley, frantic about the whereabouts of his nephew. He was nowhere in sight and the rest of his family hadn’t seen nor heard him. Vernon was at a loss. What was he supposed to do now? He could barely see the hand in front of him, how was he supposed to find Harry in this weather? He cursed the snow he had liked so much before, since it had made Harry happy. Now the snow might kill the little green eyed angel.
-
Despite it being very cold outside, Harry didn’t feel it. He was warm from dancing around in the snow as well as laughing a lot with Tom. His cheeks were colored red and he was having a good time. Tom had once promised him they would meet and then they would both be happy. Harry knew this was it. Tom was there, he was happy and he hadn’t felt this carefree since his parents had been murdered.
Harry was currently showing Tom how to make a snow angel.
“Very good Harry! You look just like an angel yourself,” Tom told him and Harry giggled happily. He really liked Tom. Tom always said nice things to him.
“Please make one Tom,” he begged. He didn’t want to play alone. Tom looked down hesitantly at him before rolling his yes.
“Alright then, but you must promise to help me make it,” Tom said and lay down next to Harry. Harry looked at Tom admiringly; Tom looked more alive than ever before. There was something special about him tonight, Harry decided. The whole evening felt magical to him.
-
When they had made the angels Tom urged him to get moving because there was something he wanted to show him. Harry hesitated for the first time this night.
“But what about Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? And Dudley?” he asked as he remembered leaving them. “Oh no! They must be so angry I ran away!” he said with a child’s innocence; his eyes wide and frightful at his realization. He turned around to walk back but he soon realized he didn’t know the right way.
“Tom,” he spoke quietly, and in that one word he betrayed all his feelings of despair and hopelessness. It was disheartening to hear but it didn’t seem to become Tom. Harry’s big green eyes filled with tears at the prospect of being lost. Suddenly the forest didn’t seem peaceful anymore. It became dark and threatening instead, and for a six year old it seemed even worse to be there. Harry turned around in a circle with wide fearful eyes. It felt like something evil was watching him, but how could anyone be watching him when it was only him and Tom there.
Tom stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t fret Harry. I’ll take care of everything. Trust me,” Tom said in a gentle voice. Harry swallowed the sob threatening to come out and nodded bravely. If Tom said he’d take care of it he knew everything would be alright. Tom had never lied to him before. Tom reached out his hand for him to grab a hold on with a smile. Harry placed his small hand into the large confines of Toms. Tom’s hand wasn’t warm at all, so it wasn’t very comforting, but at least it was something.
“Where are we going?” he asked in a small voice as Tom led him away.
“Hush now, you’ll find out soon enough,” Tom said secretively with a satisfied smile on his face. Harry thought he had seen something red flashing past quickly in Tom’s brown eyes, but as he looked again it was gone. He must have imagined it.
-
Harry was getting tired. It felt like they had been walking for hours. Tom never slowed down nor had they stopped and rested, even when Harry had asked him to. He no longer wanted to go with Tom, but the firm grip on his hand wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise.
It was one very miserable young boy that following the older one deeper in to the forest’s heart. Tom suddenly stopped and Harry looked up from the ground. He had been keeping a close watch at Tom’s feet so he wouldn’t stumble and fall in the snow.
It was snowing less now, but that could be because the trees were closer to each other and their branches bigger, darker and heavier. Harry looked around him with wide curious eyes. Their breathing shallow after their quick walk made the fog around them thick. The small boy was shivering now, both from the sharp winter air and slightly from fear of not being with his family.
In front of them was a circular path surrounded by small cliffs. They weren’t placed there by any humans other creatures, they were simply one of nature’s wonders. The cliffs, or stones rather, weren’t big, but they looked huge to a six years old boy. Harry wanted to go and explore, but Tom still hadn’t let go of his hand. By now it was very dark outside, but the snow clouds had let up, and you could once again see the stars on a midnight blue sky. The air was clear and even colder than before. The stars in the sky provided them with a certain amount of light, and the small bit of the moon that was there helped a little more, but mostly it was pitch black in the forest. The trees were high and therefore they seemed to create a small room in the middle of the forest. Here, in the ring of stones, the light shone through a little better then it did in most places.
Harry felt like he should be very afraid, and chills were running down his spine, but he ignored it. He was there with Tom who could do anything, so why should he be afraid?
“What is this place Tom?” he whispered. He didn’t know why he felt the need for whispering, he just did and it felt right.
“The clock will strike twelve soon, you know what that means don’t you?” Tom asked him instead of answering his question. Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. He didn’t understand. Tom sighed.
“It means it will be midnight,” Tom clarified and Harry still didn’t quite understand why that was important, but he nodded none the less. He didn’t want Tom to think he was stupid. To his delight Tom walked towards the stones, so Harry had the chance to explore them. Tom led go of his hand and Harry began to climb the stones at once. He slipped on the snow a couple of times, but he soon managed to stand tall on top of one of them. Tom went off and did something in the middle of the circle, but Harry didn’t care. He climbed up and down all of them, until there was no more to explore. Then he rejoined Tom’s side. There was a flat, low stone in the middle of the circle which Tom was currently busy with, trying to place various small objects onto the boulder. Harry watched curiously as Tom picked up one after another and laid it down in all corners. The stone was, if you looked at it the right way, a square table, even if it was rough. It wasn’t entirely flat either, but it was flat enough for it to be impressive since no human had made it that way, instead it was created by Mother Nature.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked when he couldn’t figure it out himself. Tom paused in placing something that looked like dried leaves in a corner.
“We are going to do something with magic. You do remember what I have told you about magic, don’t you?” Tom asked him seriously but still friendly as they looked at each other in the darkness. Harry nodded eagerly. He had always wanted to do something with magic, and he had asked Tom but Tom had answered it had never been the right time.
“Is it the right time now?” he asked eagerly; excited at the prospect of finally being able to do magic like Tom.
“Yes, now is the exact right time,” Tom almost said in a hiss as he looked up at the sky thoughtfully. He then looked back at the ‘table’ and placed the last couple items in various places. “Harry, do you remember what I once promised you, that you would see your parents again?” he asked and Harry let out a little cry of happiness.
“Tom! Will I see them now?” he asked and jumped up and down in happiness. Tom didn’t look very happy, only amused.
“Yes, sure you will. I said so, didn’t I? But there are some things you need to do before you can see them. First I need you to lay on this stone,” Tom said and pointed at the one in front of them. Harry nodded. That sounded simple and reasonable. “And then I want you to close your eyes, and no matter what happens, you will not open them, understand?” Tom asked him, and Harry nodded his head hesitantly; how was he supposed to see his parents if he couldn’t keep his eyes open? He didn’t have any time to think about that as Tom lifted him up and placed him on the stone ‘table’.
“Close your eyes now,” Tom said in a whisper. The boys green eyes looked up at him with trust before they slowly closed. Dark eyelashes stood out against the slightly pale face, and Harry looked peaceful.
Harry could smell some herbs and the strong smell made his nose itch. He had to fight himself from opening his eyes, because he was very curious about what Tom was doing.
Tom took out his hidden wand from his pocket. He had been waiting for this moment to come for years now. Ever since he had been detached from his body, he had been working on this plan to carry out. He had managed to restore quite a lot of his spiritual strength from other people, and he had, since then worked, on getting Harry’s trust. He now had it and it led him down to this, restoring his old body again. It hadn’t been easy, most times he had felt weak and he couldn’t perform any kind of magic. The only good things about it was that only wizards could see spirits, the kind he was, so he didn’t need to bother about the Dursley’s finding out they had Lord Voldemort under their roof. Slowly during the years he had managed to store enough strength, until finally this day he could appear as something functioning as a living person. He had been able to make himself feel alive earlier when Harry was around, but mostly he had been something similar to a ghost.
Tom uncorked a vile which contents were something dark red, and drank it all. He took out his wand and performed a binding spell on the child in front on him. His eyes had now taken its real red color, and he had an evil smile on his face. He needed Harry to regain his sixteen year old body in an instant; it was either this ritual or something more crude and nasty about a cauldron and a sacrifice from a loyal servant. He did not want that, he wanted the purest way, a way worthy of a Lord.
He began chanting in Latin, asking the gods and elements to return him to his body, a body that would be created in an instant, and that would look the same like his old one. It would be an identical copy. He could see the child’s eyes flickering, and he hoped Harry would keep them closed. It would save him the trouble of performing this ritual without any interruptions. The striking of twelve o’clock would be critical. He had the digital numbers shining a pleasant green in front of him. He had been magically summoned the clock so he would know when exactly to perform the ritual.
His voice rose as he changed the last couple of sentences before the clock’s alarm began to ring out. It was a deep, loud sound. He had charmed that way; he had always had a flare for the dramatics. It sounded like bells from a church tower. It chimed one, two, three….
Tom or rather, Voldemort created a big, shiny silver knife with a green handle. He did a couple of movement above Harry’s body, and as the clock rung it’s twelfth stoke, Voldemort plunged the knife down through Harry’s heart. Green eyes flew open in surprise and pain. Voldemort stepped back and felt an indescribable power fill him up. He had never felt anything like it. Harry screamed as blood poured out of his chest, and a blinding white light that was his magic left him in waves and were transferred into Voldemort.
Harry could feel his heart slowing down, and he looked up accusingly at Voldemort.
“Why?” he whispered as his last breath and heartbeat came to a stop. The green eyes closed, and his eyelashes were once again protecting the boy’s beautiful green eyes. His last look would forever hunt Voldemort.
-
Harry was found late the next morning. It had taken time, and everyone was cold and tired, but they hadn’t given up on finding the little boy. The Dursley’s had been advised not to attend this search, since the outcome would probably be negative, but the Dursley’s were at least waiting down at the station.
The sight that met the policemen would forever be remembered. The cutest and most innocent looking boy they had ever seen was lying in the middle of a stone circle. His raven hair was like a dark halo around his head, some of it falling down his eyes yet not completely covering a curious looking lightening bolt scar on his forehead. The boy’s eyes were closed, and it would have looked like he was simply sleeping if it wasn’t for the deathly pale and slightly bluish skin color he had. Further more, there was something dark and frozen on his chest and on the stone. On further examination, they noticed it was blood. They found the knife lying on the ground, but there were no footprints around them. No traces what so ever could be found and the police could do nothing at all. The case was closed, but they would all remember the green eyed angel, whose life had been brought to an early end, forever.
(THE END)
_Review People_
NOTE: I continued writing this story when my beta asked me to. She wrote the first two pages, and I brought it home. We each wrote our own things, I used my own imagination to finish what she had begun.
CO-WRITER: Hddninshdws
DISCLAIMER 2: Again, Own nothing, make no money. Belings to JK Rowling.
INFORMATION: www. livejournal. com /users/ draycious
PURE BLACK: http:// www. fanfiction. net/u/543246/
HDDNINSHDWS: http:// www. fanfiction. net/u/549186/
CONTACT: black_moore@hotmail.com
------------------------------------------------------
It was a beautiful and clear night out when the three Dursley’s and their young nephew Harry Potter were taking a slow walk through the large dark forest behind their home. The snow covered branches of the threes were hanging down heavily above their heads and the snow sparkled in the moonlight. The frost from their breaths came out in a clear and slow mist that hung in the air before the cloud evaporated into the night.
Unbeknownst to them, while they were enjoying the stillness of the night, storm clouds had began brewing up in the sky not too far from them and what was soon to be one of the coldest and harshest snow storms in decades was soon to hit.
Vernon Dursley looked up when he first started to notice the small white flakes falling from the dark sky. The stars were no longer visible, and the stormy clouds were taking over the sky like big thunderclouds in the summer, but yet the clouds right above them were grey and didn’t look that ominous yet. “Look Harry, Dudley.” Both aforementioned boys looked up at the sound of the man’s voice and their eyes followed in the direction of his pointing hand. Harry and Dudley looked up in awe at the falling flakes, their faces lighting up at the prospect of snow.
“It’s pretty.” Harry spoke up, his voice quiet, which was characteristic for him. Vernon and Petunia Dursley smiled at the small boy when they heard his voice. It was always a pleasure to hear the young boy speak. He didn’t do it very often, and nobody understood why. Vernon and Petunia thought that, perhaps, it was because of his past. Having to hear and watch his mother die to a mad man before said man turned on him as well was not something one could easily forget. That was only their assumption though, and they didn’t know whether it was correct or not. There was no evidence to prove them wrong nor was there anything to prove them right.
A snowflake glided down and landed on the small button nose of the green eyed boy, causing him to giggle. The small laugh earned three more bright smiles from his family. His laugh was something they heard even more seldom than his speech, no matter how much they tried to make him laugh. Nothing ever seemed to work, he never laughed unless he really found something amusing by himself.
They discovered when he was two and a half, that snow seemed to bring out the best of him, a side that almost no one but the Dursley’s ever got to see. Now, his bright green eyes absolutely sparkled with happiness as he watched the snowflakes dance down in front of him to land lightly on the ground. To see him that happy was a rarity. The Dursley’s watched him twirl in the falling beauty of the skies, his small arms stretched out above him. The Dursley’s watched in silent rapture, cherishing the moment as it played out before them.
Their moment of peace, however, was lost to them when the snow began falling so much that they were having trouble seeing their nephew, who continued dancing away, not hearing their frightened calls for him to come back. Their little boy was too caught up in his own momentary bliss.
-
Vernon watched in horror as his beloved nephew disappeared from his sight and ran after him, effectively disappearing into the night and out if his wife and son’s view. Vernon squinted his eyes trying to see something, anything, moving. He looked at the ground and tried to see the footprints of his nephew. He didn’t see any, so he wandered in what he thought as the right direction. He turned sharply to the left when he heard a small giggle, it was the same kind of laugh young children gave when they were playing hide and seek with the neighborhood kids and were on the verge of being found. At this point it wasn’t amusing Vernon the slightest. He just wanted his nephew to be found.
“Harry!” Vernon called into the night. He heard a giggle to the right this time, but saw nothing as he spun on his heal to look. He realized the snow was falling even faster now, and looking back in the direction he came from, he noticed that his footprints were already almost gone. Maybe he’s already with Petunia and Dudley, he thought hopefully. Standing still for a moment he listened to the quietness of the forest. There was no sound coming from any direction. Fear clenched his heart. Harry would die in this cold if he were out too long. Vernon took a shuddering breath, and with a heavy heart, he took one last look in the direction where he had last heard his nephew before he started walking back to his wife and child.
He didn’t know what else to do.
-
Harry giggled and danced along with the falling snow, his eyes bright and a happy smile on his sweet face. The world outside his own was forgotten for the moment; he didn’t care about anything but the snow.
“Harry, over here,” a voice suddenly called out to him. Harry’s eyes brightened even more, if possible.
“Tom!” Tom was Harry’s imaginary friend. The Dursley’s couldn’t’t see him, and neither could anyone else. Harry, as his friend always told him, was so much like Tom himself. They both had the same raven colored hair, and they both liked the same things. They also both had magic, Tom had told him about magic when he was younger. Harry liked magic; he was fascinated by it and listened with big eyes to all of Tom’s tales. Tom was also the one who made Harry like snow so much. He had made a promise to the young boy a couple of years ago, and Harry was always looking forward to Tom fulfilling that promise, the promise to see his parents again. “When the night is cold Harry, and the snow is falling so much that you can hardly see, I will take you to see your mom and your dad okay?” Harry had been three at the time, and could only believe what the man had said. He would never forget what he had been told, a promise to see his mom and dad. It meant the world to him. Tom was going to fulfill his promise tonight, the right time was now.
-
Vernon reached Petunia and Dudley, frantic about the whereabouts of his nephew. He was nowhere in sight and the rest of his family hadn’t seen nor heard him. Vernon was at a loss. What was he supposed to do now? He could barely see the hand in front of him, how was he supposed to find Harry in this weather? He cursed the snow he had liked so much before, since it had made Harry happy. Now the snow might kill the little green eyed angel.
-
Despite it being very cold outside, Harry didn’t feel it. He was warm from dancing around in the snow as well as laughing a lot with Tom. His cheeks were colored red and he was having a good time. Tom had once promised him they would meet and then they would both be happy. Harry knew this was it. Tom was there, he was happy and he hadn’t felt this carefree since his parents had been murdered.
Harry was currently showing Tom how to make a snow angel.
“Very good Harry! You look just like an angel yourself,” Tom told him and Harry giggled happily. He really liked Tom. Tom always said nice things to him.
“Please make one Tom,” he begged. He didn’t want to play alone. Tom looked down hesitantly at him before rolling his yes.
“Alright then, but you must promise to help me make it,” Tom said and lay down next to Harry. Harry looked at Tom admiringly; Tom looked more alive than ever before. There was something special about him tonight, Harry decided. The whole evening felt magical to him.
-
When they had made the angels Tom urged him to get moving because there was something he wanted to show him. Harry hesitated for the first time this night.
“But what about Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? And Dudley?” he asked as he remembered leaving them. “Oh no! They must be so angry I ran away!” he said with a child’s innocence; his eyes wide and frightful at his realization. He turned around to walk back but he soon realized he didn’t know the right way.
“Tom,” he spoke quietly, and in that one word he betrayed all his feelings of despair and hopelessness. It was disheartening to hear but it didn’t seem to become Tom. Harry’s big green eyes filled with tears at the prospect of being lost. Suddenly the forest didn’t seem peaceful anymore. It became dark and threatening instead, and for a six year old it seemed even worse to be there. Harry turned around in a circle with wide fearful eyes. It felt like something evil was watching him, but how could anyone be watching him when it was only him and Tom there.
Tom stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“Don’t fret Harry. I’ll take care of everything. Trust me,” Tom said in a gentle voice. Harry swallowed the sob threatening to come out and nodded bravely. If Tom said he’d take care of it he knew everything would be alright. Tom had never lied to him before. Tom reached out his hand for him to grab a hold on with a smile. Harry placed his small hand into the large confines of Toms. Tom’s hand wasn’t warm at all, so it wasn’t very comforting, but at least it was something.
“Where are we going?” he asked in a small voice as Tom led him away.
“Hush now, you’ll find out soon enough,” Tom said secretively with a satisfied smile on his face. Harry thought he had seen something red flashing past quickly in Tom’s brown eyes, but as he looked again it was gone. He must have imagined it.
-
Harry was getting tired. It felt like they had been walking for hours. Tom never slowed down nor had they stopped and rested, even when Harry had asked him to. He no longer wanted to go with Tom, but the firm grip on his hand wouldn’t allow him to do otherwise.
It was one very miserable young boy that following the older one deeper in to the forest’s heart. Tom suddenly stopped and Harry looked up from the ground. He had been keeping a close watch at Tom’s feet so he wouldn’t stumble and fall in the snow.
It was snowing less now, but that could be because the trees were closer to each other and their branches bigger, darker and heavier. Harry looked around him with wide curious eyes. Their breathing shallow after their quick walk made the fog around them thick. The small boy was shivering now, both from the sharp winter air and slightly from fear of not being with his family.
In front of them was a circular path surrounded by small cliffs. They weren’t placed there by any humans other creatures, they were simply one of nature’s wonders. The cliffs, or stones rather, weren’t big, but they looked huge to a six years old boy. Harry wanted to go and explore, but Tom still hadn’t let go of his hand. By now it was very dark outside, but the snow clouds had let up, and you could once again see the stars on a midnight blue sky. The air was clear and even colder than before. The stars in the sky provided them with a certain amount of light, and the small bit of the moon that was there helped a little more, but mostly it was pitch black in the forest. The trees were high and therefore they seemed to create a small room in the middle of the forest. Here, in the ring of stones, the light shone through a little better then it did in most places.
Harry felt like he should be very afraid, and chills were running down his spine, but he ignored it. He was there with Tom who could do anything, so why should he be afraid?
“What is this place Tom?” he whispered. He didn’t know why he felt the need for whispering, he just did and it felt right.
“The clock will strike twelve soon, you know what that means don’t you?” Tom asked him instead of answering his question. Harry furrowed his brow in confusion. He didn’t understand. Tom sighed.
“It means it will be midnight,” Tom clarified and Harry still didn’t quite understand why that was important, but he nodded none the less. He didn’t want Tom to think he was stupid. To his delight Tom walked towards the stones, so Harry had the chance to explore them. Tom led go of his hand and Harry began to climb the stones at once. He slipped on the snow a couple of times, but he soon managed to stand tall on top of one of them. Tom went off and did something in the middle of the circle, but Harry didn’t care. He climbed up and down all of them, until there was no more to explore. Then he rejoined Tom’s side. There was a flat, low stone in the middle of the circle which Tom was currently busy with, trying to place various small objects onto the boulder. Harry watched curiously as Tom picked up one after another and laid it down in all corners. The stone was, if you looked at it the right way, a square table, even if it was rough. It wasn’t entirely flat either, but it was flat enough for it to be impressive since no human had made it that way, instead it was created by Mother Nature.
“What are you doing?” Harry asked when he couldn’t figure it out himself. Tom paused in placing something that looked like dried leaves in a corner.
“We are going to do something with magic. You do remember what I have told you about magic, don’t you?” Tom asked him seriously but still friendly as they looked at each other in the darkness. Harry nodded eagerly. He had always wanted to do something with magic, and he had asked Tom but Tom had answered it had never been the right time.
“Is it the right time now?” he asked eagerly; excited at the prospect of finally being able to do magic like Tom.
“Yes, now is the exact right time,” Tom almost said in a hiss as he looked up at the sky thoughtfully. He then looked back at the ‘table’ and placed the last couple items in various places. “Harry, do you remember what I once promised you, that you would see your parents again?” he asked and Harry let out a little cry of happiness.
“Tom! Will I see them now?” he asked and jumped up and down in happiness. Tom didn’t look very happy, only amused.
“Yes, sure you will. I said so, didn’t I? But there are some things you need to do before you can see them. First I need you to lay on this stone,” Tom said and pointed at the one in front of them. Harry nodded. That sounded simple and reasonable. “And then I want you to close your eyes, and no matter what happens, you will not open them, understand?” Tom asked him, and Harry nodded his head hesitantly; how was he supposed to see his parents if he couldn’t keep his eyes open? He didn’t have any time to think about that as Tom lifted him up and placed him on the stone ‘table’.
“Close your eyes now,” Tom said in a whisper. The boys green eyes looked up at him with trust before they slowly closed. Dark eyelashes stood out against the slightly pale face, and Harry looked peaceful.
Harry could smell some herbs and the strong smell made his nose itch. He had to fight himself from opening his eyes, because he was very curious about what Tom was doing.
Tom took out his hidden wand from his pocket. He had been waiting for this moment to come for years now. Ever since he had been detached from his body, he had been working on this plan to carry out. He had managed to restore quite a lot of his spiritual strength from other people, and he had, since then worked, on getting Harry’s trust. He now had it and it led him down to this, restoring his old body again. It hadn’t been easy, most times he had felt weak and he couldn’t perform any kind of magic. The only good things about it was that only wizards could see spirits, the kind he was, so he didn’t need to bother about the Dursley’s finding out they had Lord Voldemort under their roof. Slowly during the years he had managed to store enough strength, until finally this day he could appear as something functioning as a living person. He had been able to make himself feel alive earlier when Harry was around, but mostly he had been something similar to a ghost.
Tom uncorked a vile which contents were something dark red, and drank it all. He took out his wand and performed a binding spell on the child in front on him. His eyes had now taken its real red color, and he had an evil smile on his face. He needed Harry to regain his sixteen year old body in an instant; it was either this ritual or something more crude and nasty about a cauldron and a sacrifice from a loyal servant. He did not want that, he wanted the purest way, a way worthy of a Lord.
He began chanting in Latin, asking the gods and elements to return him to his body, a body that would be created in an instant, and that would look the same like his old one. It would be an identical copy. He could see the child’s eyes flickering, and he hoped Harry would keep them closed. It would save him the trouble of performing this ritual without any interruptions. The striking of twelve o’clock would be critical. He had the digital numbers shining a pleasant green in front of him. He had been magically summoned the clock so he would know when exactly to perform the ritual.
His voice rose as he changed the last couple of sentences before the clock’s alarm began to ring out. It was a deep, loud sound. He had charmed that way; he had always had a flare for the dramatics. It sounded like bells from a church tower. It chimed one, two, three….
Tom or rather, Voldemort created a big, shiny silver knife with a green handle. He did a couple of movement above Harry’s body, and as the clock rung it’s twelfth stoke, Voldemort plunged the knife down through Harry’s heart. Green eyes flew open in surprise and pain. Voldemort stepped back and felt an indescribable power fill him up. He had never felt anything like it. Harry screamed as blood poured out of his chest, and a blinding white light that was his magic left him in waves and were transferred into Voldemort.
Harry could feel his heart slowing down, and he looked up accusingly at Voldemort.
“Why?” he whispered as his last breath and heartbeat came to a stop. The green eyes closed, and his eyelashes were once again protecting the boy’s beautiful green eyes. His last look would forever hunt Voldemort.
-
Harry was found late the next morning. It had taken time, and everyone was cold and tired, but they hadn’t given up on finding the little boy. The Dursley’s had been advised not to attend this search, since the outcome would probably be negative, but the Dursley’s were at least waiting down at the station.
The sight that met the policemen would forever be remembered. The cutest and most innocent looking boy they had ever seen was lying in the middle of a stone circle. His raven hair was like a dark halo around his head, some of it falling down his eyes yet not completely covering a curious looking lightening bolt scar on his forehead. The boy’s eyes were closed, and it would have looked like he was simply sleeping if it wasn’t for the deathly pale and slightly bluish skin color he had. Further more, there was something dark and frozen on his chest and on the stone. On further examination, they noticed it was blood. They found the knife lying on the ground, but there were no footprints around them. No traces what so ever could be found and the police could do nothing at all. The case was closed, but they would all remember the green eyed angel, whose life had been brought to an early end, forever.
(THE END)
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