Times of Changes

Times of Changes

Chapter 1

At the Weasleys

Our story began in a small bedroom just under the attic of a small house outside the small village of Ottery St Catchpole. In this small bedroom, two sleeping form could be seen, one on the bed, the other on a mattress just beside the bed. The form on the bed was motionless, deep within the grasp of the sandman. The other form, however, had no such luck. He was tossing and turning around, struggling against something in his dreams. Or perhaps nightmares would be a better word. Suddenly, he shot up straight, just barely able to keep himself from screaming out loud and waking up his friend.

Harry Potter got up from his mattress. His breath coming in short, ragged grasps. He had just finished revisiting his most feared nightmare. Every night, since he returned from Hogwarts, Harry had this nightmare. Every night, it was the same. The events of last term had hunted him for almost the whole of the summer holidays. He had hoped that being in the Burrow, with the Weasleys, would give him some relive from it.

It did not.

If anything, the nightmares grew worse, including his best friends into the nightmare, so that instead of Cedric, the one that ended up dead on the ground was Ron, or Hermione, or Sirius, or Ginny, or even Dumbledore.

The news from the wizarding world did not help matters either. Minister for Magic Fudge Cornelius still refused to believe that Voldemort have indeed returned, covering up the activities of the Death Eaters in the wizards newspaper and denying that the Dark Lord is back. Despite his best efforts, however, he was unable to hide everything, and the wizarding world was starting to catch on the fact that something was not right with the world.

Harry climbed down the stairs to the kitchen, taking care to walk softly on the creaking steps so as not to wake the others up in this household. He could have save his efforts, however, as the twins were snoring up such a storm that the sound covered up any noise he could have made.

Once in the kitchen, Harry poured himself a glass of water and walked to the windows at the back of the kitchen, overlooking the backyard. He stared unseeingly out into the backyard for a moment, noticing that a light drizzle is falling, making everything misty and surreal, but not registering anything.

Quite suddenly, a feeling of great loneliness fell on him, almost crushing him with the sudden weight, forcing Harry on his knees, tears that was hidden during the day started flowing down his face, as if a dam had broke loose inside Harry’s head. Harry hurried to the living room, where he had left his Firebolt from the Quidditch game in the afternoon. He mounted the broom and kicked off, going through the open living room windows into the drizzling night sky.

At the Dursley’s, Harry could not even cry at night, for fear of waking up his Aunt and Uncle, who would then start yelling at Harry about waking them up at ungodly hours. Nevermind that Harry’s life is in danger. Nevermind that the greatest and worst Dark Lord of all times had returned from the dead. No, all the Dursley’s worried about was their beauty sleep.

At the burrow, it is much the same. During the day, he was forced to keep his face cheerful, so as not to worry the Weasleys, who had enough to worry about as it is already, what with all the dark activities happening all around, without him adding to their weight.

But now, with only empty air around him, Harry could finally cry out his grief at the needless death of Cedric, and his fears of Voldemort, and of the loneliness of his heart without fear of anyone hearing him. The sky, as if sensing Harry’s tears, started to pour even heavier, thunder clashing around, lighting flashed in the overcast clouds above, as Harry looped round and round, flying in circles in the air above the Burrow, his form a bur at the speed he was going.

At last, Harry slowed down, the heaviness in his heart still there, but he somehow felt a little better, now that he had cried himself out. He drifted slowly down to the Burrow, but decided that he isn’t ready to go inside yet. Instead, he stopped at the roof and sat down on edge of the roof, heedless of the wetness left by the rain. He pulled his legs up close to his chest and rested his arms on the Firebolt hovering just in front of him. He sat there watching as the rain lessen and the sky grew bright in the east. Morning had arrived.

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Ginny Weasley woke up with a start, wondering what had wakened her up. She got her answer a minute later when the loud boom of thunder came to her ears and the room lit up with lighting. She lay in bed for a moment, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the roof. She was just about to fall asleep again when she heard something that is not of the storm. It sounded like someone was crying from the bottom of his heart. A heart heavy with grief and pain, like the sound of a lost child.

Still half asleep, Ginny got up and stepped over Hermione to her window. Opening the windows, she leaned out to see if she could catch any sight of the person crying so hard. The wind rushed into the room, carrying raindrops, which fell all over the room. Hermione woke up when the raindrops splashed on her face. Thinking that the wind blew the windows open, Hermione got up to close it. Only then did she caught sight of Ginny standing at the opening window, leaning out as if to hear something.

“What are you doing, Ginny?” Hermione asked, rubbing her eyes and coming next to Ginny at the window.

Ginny jumped a little at the voice of Hermione. At that moment, the crying sound came again, shocking Hermione.

“What is that sound?” Hermione asked, getting a little frighten.

“Look at this, Hermione.” Ginny replied, pointing out into the sky.

Puzzled, Hermione lean out to see what had caught the attention of Ginny. She saw a shape flying around in circles above the burrow, the crying sound coming from the shape.

“What is that?” Hermione asked, turning to Ginny. Ginny shrugged her shoulders.

“I have no idea.” Was the answer.

The shape started to slow down, spiraling down towards the ground. As it got nearer, Hermione and Ginny could see the face of Harry Potter, grief and tiredness marked on it. It was hard to tell if the water on his face were rain or tears. They watched as Harry drifted down, heard the sound of Harry landing on the roof. Both of them somehow knew that Harry wanted to be left alone at this time. Both made up their minds to speak to Harry as soon as possible, the expression on his face still clear in their minds.

“Poor Harry. He had suffered so much.” Ginny said, her heart going out to her crush of 5 years. She wished that she could comfort Harry, ease the buddle on his heart a little.

“Yeah. I wish he would tell us what is on his mind and heart, instead of keeping it all to himself.” Hermione replied, her heart twisting a little with guilt. Her best friend is out there suffering, and she did not do anything about it. Well, that just had to change.

So Ginny and Hermione stood, side by side, watching the sunrise along with Harry, though he did not know it. Morning had arrived.

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