Content Harry Potter Trixie Belden Star Trek: TNG My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
  • Previous
  • Next

He stood on the balcony and looked out over the city he now called home. He'd moved across an ocean to get away from his fame, and it had worked, thankfully. No one knew that he lived in New York City now, and he was perfectly happy to keep it that way.

He stopped his musings overlooking Central Park and turned back inside. His neighbor walked out on her balcony and waved to him. He waved absently back at her as he stepped off the balcony. It was July 31, 2000, and he was remembering. Summoning a bottled butterbeer from his refrigerator, he sat down in the only chair in his apartment. He absently turned on his stereo for mindless air-pudding for a background medium to think in.

Happy fucking birthday to me. He raised his bottle and took a swig. If I could get 307 Ale without the Wizarding community figuring out where I was, I'd do it. I refuse to drink what these Americans call beer. There's a reason people nickname it 'sex in a canoe' - it really is fucking close to water.

Ah, another birthday. Another time to remember all the lives I've destroyed and taken in my twenty years. Let's start with the people I called friends. If I'd been their friend, then the Death Eaters never would have gotten their hands on them. And let's not forget the Death Eaters that I murdered with my bare hands. And while I'm at it, why don't I commemorate this day by destroying another person's life by giving them a still beating heart? Hmm, who should it be? The Headmaster of my old school? No, already done that. Who else do I know that well? The Weasleys? I've done that too, by not being there to keep the man I called my friend out of the St. Mungo's Psych ward. Ah, I'm sure I'll think of someone eventually.

A knock at his door interrupted his birthday musings. Raising an eyebrow in a manner that would have been mistaken for intrigued by someone who didn't know his moods, he stood and walked to the heavily barred portal. Peering through the tiny aperture in the door, he was genuinely mildly surprised to see a familiar face outside his door.

After undoing enough locks to shame the Federal Reserve downtown, he opened the door to a further surprise - three more people than he had been able to see through the spy hole. The only male of the group caused his eyes to widen slightly, and he almost contemplated cracking a smile. The redheaded man was uncomfortably dressed in business casual dress slacks and a polo shirt, and had filled out somehow in the last three years. He was obviously uncomfortable for more reasons than the way he was dressed.

The girl he'd seen through the door was obviously the man's sister, with the same shocking red hair, and similar facial features. She'd grown some more in the last three years, though. He didn't remember her filling any dress quite that way before - she had a figure that would make a bishop kick through a stained glass window. She wore a dress that completely covered her from neck to knees, save her bare arms, yet somehow still looked at if it were threatening to cease coverage at any moment.

The first of the two female surprises was a slightly wide-eyed blonde in a sea-foam dress. That described both the colour, which rarely looked good on anything human but managed to on her, and also the apparent material of the outfit, looking as if she were going to peek out of it occasionally. He was reminded that she had certainly grown up - and out, in a manner that he would have contemplated enjoyably three years ago.

The second female surprise, and last one at the door, was the one who came closest to getting him to show any emotion. He'd always thought she was cute, and even beautiful, but the brunette that stood outside his door transcended that description now. Her hair was no longer as bushy and unruly as his remained, but instead cascaded in gentle waves past her shoulders. She was dressed in an outfit that should have been demure - a tweed blazer and matching skirt that fell to just past her knees, and a business-like white blouse. The sight of her made a part of him realize that when he was sixteen, had he seen this vision of Her, he would have chewed through the furniture in his House's common room - or bitten the buttons off her blouse, if he'd been able to muster the courage.

The group stood in his doorway for a long moment, contemplating him, while he contemplated them in return. He would have registered shock, were he able. Finally, someone spoke into the increasingly difficult silence.

"Well, Harry, aren't you going to invite us inside?" Ron asked.

  • Previous
  • Next
Back to:: Harry Potter » Redemption