Rating:
PG-13
House:
The Dark Arts
Characters:
Harry Potter
Genres:
Mystery Romance
Era:
Multiple Eras
Spoilers:
Philosopher's Stone Chamber of Secrets Prizoner of Azkaban Goblet of Fire Order of the Phoenix Quidditch Through the Ages Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
Stats:
Published: 03/14/2005
Updated: 03/22/2005
Words: 2,670
Chapters: 2
Hits: 691

The Singer In The Shadows

Sonaros

Story Summary:
Harry has fallen into a depression following Sirius' death. Starting at Hogwarts, Harry his comtemplating throwing himself off the South Tower when he hears somebody singing on the other side of the roof. He investigates...

Chapter 02

Chapter Summary:
In this chapter, we have a typical possessive Ron, a behaving strangly Harry, and the singer appears in a tree, of all places.
Posted:
03/22/2005
Hits:
255
Author's Note:
First up, thank you to everyone to reviewed. How in the name of Beelzebub I avoided any flames escaped me. Maybe the fact that there is no particular ship attached as yet...


  1. Dissolved pain

Harry was floating in a dream. An exquisite music of strings and woodwind and a single lute swelled from the air. The Shadow Singer floated in front of him, arms outstretched, singing a simple melody. Light emanated from her in a wide, white halo. Harry could not look at her face.

A sudden, grating note from the invisible orchestra metaphorically punched Harry in the stomach, and his eyes flew open. A third-year was withdrawing her foot, apologising profusely.

Harry sat up, rubbing his eyes. A blanket fell around his waist. He was lying in the corridor, outside the portrait hole. The Fat Lady was gazing at him concernedly.

"Sorry dear," she said. "I did try to wake you up, but you remained determinedly asleep. You looked so much happier than you have in recent months that I didn't have the callousness to try any harder." Harry stood up. His back was not even slightly stiff from lying on the stone floor.

As the blanket fell to the floor, it vanished.

The entrance to the common room banged open - the Fat Lady gave a squawk of indignation - and Hermione stormed out, barging into Harry.

"OUCH - oh, sorry, Harry, I've got to run to the library..."

That did not sound like Hermione, who Harry knew had been watching him with a worried eye since the beginning of term. She should have at least asked him what on earth he was doing lying on the floor.

Harry did not know it yet, but he had changed overnight. Before, he would not have even noticed Hermione's strange behaviour, so bowed under was he with guilt.

He was startled to see that her eyes were red and her cheeks streaked with tears. He caught her arm before she could run off.

"Hey, 'Mione," he said, "What's the matter?" Hermione wiped her face quickly.

"Nothing," she replied, staring at him determinedly, before wrenching her arm away and starting to walk quickly down the corridor.

"Hermione," he called. He was aware that his voice sounded different. It was calmer, more controlled. It caught Hermione's attention better than if he had yelled. She turned round.

"What happened?" Harry walked towards Hermione and put his arms around her. "Is it Ron?" Ron had been behaving almost obsessively about Hermione of late. Harry in his heart-broken state, had only noticed one serious argument between them, but thinking back he could remember many situations where Ron had been viciously over-protective. Harry suspected that it wasn't down to a big-brother-protecting-his-sister scenario. Hermione had started receiving far more attention this year, but Ron was scaring everybody off.

Hermione rested her head on his shoulder.

"I've had enough," she mumbled through the lump in her throat. "I thought that Daniel and I were going to work out. I loved him. He said loved me. But Ron saw us together, and threatened Daniel so badly that he's been avoiding me." Hermione sniffed. Harry's fists clenched.

"I yelled at Ron just now, screaming about why couldn't he just let me alone," she continued, "and he accused me of cheating on him! I've never even been with him, Harry, despite what many people think."

Harry shushed her and hugged her for a while, rocking back and forth.

After a few minutes, however, hunger caught him and he and Hermione walked to the Great Hall for breakfast.

"I have to tell you..." Harry said, hesitantly, "about something that happened to me last night."

So he relayed the story of the Shadow Singer.

"...I have to assume that she somehow carried me all the way back to the portrait hole," he finished. "I dreamt about her, and then somebody stepped on me and I woke up out there."

"I've never heard about this person before," Hermione said. "Didn't you get even the smallest glance at her?"

"I did," Harry said. "She had a scarf around her face and her hood up, so I could only see her eyes."

"What colour?"

"Um...emerald or amber, my memory keeps changing." They had entered the Great Hall by this time. Ron was already sitting at the table, stuffing his face. He waved at Harry, delighted to see him in his less lethargic state, but only gave Hermione the most cursory of nods.

Harry felt a bit creeped out. He thinks he owns me...he didn't know where those words had come from. Hermione had never said them.

A sudden cold rush spilled over his skin. He felt his nerves prickling. He whipped around, scanning the hall. Several people were walking amongst the tables, but there was no significant source of movement.

The pricking sensation disappeared, but Harry shivered. Somebody or something had just touched him and despite the definite cold he felt, there was an odd comfort in the feeling.

"What's up Harry?" Ron said, not completely oblivious for once.

"Somebody stepped on my grave." Ron choked.

"WHAT?!"

"It's just an expression, Ron," Hermione explained. "Muggles use it to describe a shudder which happens for no reason."

"Except that there is a reason..." Harry muttered to himself.

After lessons that day, Harry headed onto the grounds with Hermione. Ron trusted Harry absolutely, so he did not start acting suspicious. They sat beneath a tree by the lake, and Harry explained that as well as the odd shivery feeling he had got at breakfast, he had also caught a flash of somebody else's thoughts.

He thinks he owns me...

Harry could not make head or tail of this. Hermione suggested that it might have something to do with auras.

"Some people with really projective minds can transmit their thoughts if they think hard enough," she suggested. "Maybe they've had a hard life, it explains the cold feeling you got from them."

"Hermione, the only people near me were you and Ron."

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly at the statement, but said nothing.

They sat a little while longer in silence, watching Fred and George who were throwing Canary Creams into the lake in the hope that the giant quid would pick some of them up.

The light dimmed. The sun set over the mountains. Fred and George went inside. Harry felt much less painful than he had recently. A large weight had fallen off his shoulders.

A small weight fell on his shoulder. Hermione had dozed off. Before Harry could rouse her, he felt the prickling sensation again.

Lily did you know that your baby boy

Would one day cross the water?

Lily did you know that your baby boy

Would save our sons and daughters?

The voice was coming from the tree above their heads. Without a sound, a black shape landed on the ground. This time, the singer's face was not covered, but her hood was pulled low.

"My dear Harry," she muttered. Her back was quickly turned to him. She raised a hand and Hermione was lifted like a marionette to her feet. Harry scrambled up, and said as loudly as he could,

"Put her down!" Again, he felt his strength being sapped.

The singer flung back her hood. Harry saw a wild mane of long, red hair spill out. Not ginger or orange, but a genuine burgundy, dark blood shade of red.

And she was singing again.

Harry sank into a stupor, staring the siren who sang across the lake, awaking a deep sense of something he had never experienced before.

The blind will see

The deaf will hear

The dead will live again...

Harry was aware of being placed at the bottom of the tree. Hermione was laid a little way away from him. The siren sang a strange, twisting melody. The words sounded like a wedding song.

When the song finished, Harry was noticing everything. The swish of the wind through the grass, the bright softness of the moon's light on everything it touched. The breath of the singer on his cheek.

"Lily is watching over you, Harry," she whispered in his ear. His eyes flew open and met a pair exactly identical to his own. Perfect emeralds.

"Mum?"

"No. I am her messenger. She did not want you to jump from the tower. She wants you to notice everything. It is a heavy task for me, but I will be near when you need help."

The girl's skin - he saw it now, she was too young to be his mother - was a glowing alabaster. Her lips were the same deep red as her hair.

"Harry!" Harry lifted his head slightly and craned it back towards the entrance to Hogwarts. Fred was running down the lawn. "Hermione!" Fred saw the impressive outline of the Shadow Singer stand straight, and he stopped. Twin green orbs burned at him.

Quickly, the siren bent down to Harry.

"Goodnight Harry," she said, making a strange sign in the air with her hand. "Dream not of darkness." She kissed his forehead affectionately, and melted away into the night.

Two seconds later, Fred was standing by them. Harry stood up on his own, but Hermione was seriously disoriented and kept falling over. Clumsily, Fred lifted her onto his back, and he and Harry made their way back to Gryffindor tower.

"Who was that?" Fred asked in a whisper as they passed through the North Wing.

Harry explained as briefly as he could. He had the faintest suspicion that the singer was following them and protecting them - there was a point when Snape, prowling along the corridors, should have seen them, but merely walked straight past.

"I don't know her name," Harry concluded. "She's either the Singer, the Shadow Singer, or the Siren. She said she was my mother's messenger."

"Harry, your mother is dead."

"I know."

"So she must have been lying."

"I'm not so sure. She turned up and lured me away from the edge of the roof on the South Tower, and said tonight that 'Lily' had assigned her the task of helping me where she could."

Fred would have shrugged, but Hermione's prone form was stopping him. He raised a sceptical eyebrow instead.

Something moved past them fast. Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. In the distance, there was a loud screech that sounded like Mrs Norris.

Filch rushed past, ready to defend his beloved cat. The boys slipped past unnoticed.

In the common room, Ron stood, arms folded.

Harry was suddenly aware of how suspicious the situation looked. Two boys returning, with a passed-out girl on the shoulders of one of them. Ron swelled up.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" He bellowed. "PUT HER DOWN!"

As Fred laid Hermione on the couch and Harry prepared to confront the frothing Ron, they prayed that Siren would make her appearance.

Nothing happened.

"What did you do to her?" Ron demanded.

"Nothing," Fred said quickly, "She was asleep when I reached the lake where she was lying."

"I think it was something from the forest," Harry lied. "I just went all weak and collapsed. Fred saw it all and charged over, and whatever it was disappeared."

"You're a liar," Ron snarled. "I did see a little of what happened down there, you know. I saw Hermione fall asleep on your shoulder! And I bet you took advantage of her...and then my dear brother, who has wanted her forever, came along..." Harry cut him off mid-sentence.

"What was that?"

"You heard me," Ron said. "Fred has wanted Hermione for himself ever since fourth year. He confessed when he was drunk."

"In vino veritas is not necessarily a correct statement, Ronald," said a voice from the middle of the room.


Author notes: Sorry, I know you all know who it is. I give you all lovely virtual cookies for reviews, but my big prize of a chapter dedicated to the reviewer who guesses who is the singer has yet to be rewarded!
I'm being a stickler here...anybody who guessed already has made two guesses. If, in one guess, you get the answer, the chappie is yours.