Disclaimer: I own nothing. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. Blah blah blah. should just put a blanket disclaimer on the site for all the idiots that could possibly believe we actually own these stories or make any kind of a profit.
A/N: This story is very AU. I have played around with a lot of things. I will let you discover what as the story progresses. This is just a teaser really. A little prologue to whet your appetite. I hope you guys like it. Let me know what you think. Thanks.
An Unconventional Affair
Sixteen-year-old Harry Potter sat outside his family home in the small village of Godric's Hollow. He was perched against the wooden fence that encircled the front garden, staring up into the starry sky with a blank expression on his face. The wind was out in full force, carrying with it a chill, although you wouldn't know it from looking at the young wizard. He didn't move an inch, not even a shiver, except for the repetitive tap his extended fore finger made, one every second, tap… tap…tap, against the fence.
Harry just kept on gazing up into the sky, tapping his finger, and otherwise doing nothing. He paid no attention to the chill wind, to the motions of a cat slinking home in the wee hours of the morning, or even to the hooting of a nearby owl. It was as if the rest of the world did not exist for him, except for the fence upon which he sat (and tapped) and the black starry void into which he stared.
And if you were granted insight into the thoughts of Harry Potter, you would find them not upon his imminent return to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which was a significant event, given that it would be his final year at the school. Nor would you find his thoughts on any of the usual things boys his age often thought about. No, for Harry Potter was not your average boy wizard. He was different. If you were granted insight into his thoughts, you would find them simple enough, for his mind was clear but for a steady, rhythmic counting, that coincided with his tapping fore finger.
…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty one… tap… seven thousand seven hundred and sixty two… tap… seven thousand seven hundred and sixty three.. tap…
A light came on in the house behind him, yet he paid no attention, and continued to count.
…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty four… tap…
The door of the house opened, spilling light into the night.
…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty five… tap…
A figure appeared in the door, robed and silhouetted against the light.
…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty six…tap…
'Harry?' The figure, unmistakably a woman, called out.
Harry paid no attention and kept on counting.
…seven thousand seven hundred and sixty seven… tap…
The woman let out a tired sigh, and then clutching her robe tight against the cold, she stepped out into the chilly night. She grit her teeth, her red hair whipping in the wind, and finally made it to the end of the path, where Harry balanced on the fence.
'Harry?' she repeated. 'Honey, it's cold. Come inside.'
Harry ignored her, his count unbroken. He was now entering into the seven thousand seven hundred and seventies, his tapping finger ticking off each number on the dot, perfectly timed.
The woman reached out a hand, as if thinking of tapping Harry on the shoulder, but then thought better of it and let it fall to her side. Instead she looked up into the sky with him, grim faced and shivering.
Tap… tap… tap, went Harry Potter's finger, up through the seven thousand seven hundred and seventies, then the seven thousand seven hundred and eighties, and finally into the seven thousand seven hundred and nineties.
The woman remained as she was, patiently waiting, clutching tight to her robe to keep what little warmth she had inside.
Tap… tap… tap… until at last Harry reached seven thousand eight hundred and twenty three. His finger stopped its tapping, his head moved slightly, and then lowered. He took a breath, and then shifted his eyes and head to look at his mother.
'Happy Birthday Harry,' Lily Potter said. 'Please, can we go inside now?'
Harry nodded, hopped off the fence, and followed his grateful mother inside.