Categories > Books > Harry Potter
Moonlight illuminated the night; the cloudless sky proved no impedance to the soft, shimmering glow.
A small, two-story house sat on a well manicured lawn, sporting well-manicured gardens. The lawn was bordered with a neatly white-washed picket, which itself edged a tidy cement walk. Next to this house, another one stood, identical in all but the small details. And another. And another, all the way down the street and around the corner at the far end.
On the roof of the fourth house in the row, a young man lay, staring above, eyes tracing the patterns of the stars; they shined brightly on the warm summer night.
He lay there stargazing for quite some time. His eyes were blurry, as though he had been crying recently. Now, though, tears gathered much slower, sliding down his cheeks less and less. After a while, they stopped. His eyes focused, settling their gaze on Polaris, and stayed there, blinking regularly, slowly, for what seemed like an eternity.
Soon, a soft rustling could be heard in the bushes in front of the house. A few unintelligible words were whispered. A quiet /crack/, then silence.
Cautious, hesitant footsteps could be heard travelling over the roof, toward the boy. A shimmer in the air, and a young woman with bright, violet hair lay down beside the boy, her own eyes first watching his face, then turning to the stars above, to Polaris.
Silence reigned over the two of them for a time. Then, the young man sat up and rubbed his hands across his face and through his unruly black hair. The girl turned her attention back to him, watching, waiting. He looked to her, then smiled faintly, almost unnoticibly, then grabbed the drainpipe and climbed in through the window on the side the house.
The girl sat up herself, sat quietly for a moment, contemplating. She had seen the faint smile, and knew that things were getting better all the time.
She got up and followed him inside, a similar smile gracing her face.
A small, two-story house sat on a well manicured lawn, sporting well-manicured gardens. The lawn was bordered with a neatly white-washed picket, which itself edged a tidy cement walk. Next to this house, another one stood, identical in all but the small details. And another. And another, all the way down the street and around the corner at the far end.
On the roof of the fourth house in the row, a young man lay, staring above, eyes tracing the patterns of the stars; they shined brightly on the warm summer night.
He lay there stargazing for quite some time. His eyes were blurry, as though he had been crying recently. Now, though, tears gathered much slower, sliding down his cheeks less and less. After a while, they stopped. His eyes focused, settling their gaze on Polaris, and stayed there, blinking regularly, slowly, for what seemed like an eternity.
Soon, a soft rustling could be heard in the bushes in front of the house. A few unintelligible words were whispered. A quiet /crack/, then silence.
Cautious, hesitant footsteps could be heard travelling over the roof, toward the boy. A shimmer in the air, and a young woman with bright, violet hair lay down beside the boy, her own eyes first watching his face, then turning to the stars above, to Polaris.
Silence reigned over the two of them for a time. Then, the young man sat up and rubbed his hands across his face and through his unruly black hair. The girl turned her attention back to him, watching, waiting. He looked to her, then smiled faintly, almost unnoticibly, then grabbed the drainpipe and climbed in through the window on the side the house.
The girl sat up herself, sat quietly for a moment, contemplating. She had seen the faint smile, and knew that things were getting better all the time.
She got up and followed him inside, a similar smile gracing her face.
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