(no subject)
Title: The Boy No One Knew Existed
Author: fasterleaner, a.k.a. Kai
Rating: PG-16, higher scenes will be friend-locked.
Length: Chapter 2/[?]
Year: 1/7
Warnings and Disclaimers: It's there before the story. I will only post it once. It can be found here. This link will also lead you to the soundtrack.
Summery: 11 years after Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort disappear, two unlikely boys find the weight of the world on their shoulders as everyone looks towards them to end this war. I bring you the seven years at Hogwarts of Harry Potter's son. Pre-Deathly Hallows. (I know, my summaries suck. I'll get a better one from someone who knows the entire plot and can actually write well.)
Previous chapters are linked on the Warnings and Disclaimers page. It's handy for such things.
This chapter is un-beta-d. Such a busy week, no one who'd been attempting to beta before had time, haha. Enjoy~
Chapter 2 - Flying and Nightmares
The first flying lessons for first years were announced a few days later. Madame Hooch was still teaching flying, despite a bad fall two years earlier that resulted in three broken bones, two broken ribs, and a crack in her skull. This year she was looking forward to teaching - she expected the young Potter to have inherited his flying skills from his father.
“Well? Step up to your brooms and call ‘Up’”, Madame Hooch watched as the students tried. Few got it right the first time, Potter being one of them. As if she couldn’t predict that one.
Madame Hooch demonstrated the correct way to mount a broom, and showed the students how to push up off the ground and hover.
“Your turn. On my count of three! 1…2…3!”
The first years pushed themselves off the ground, hovering a few feet. Well, those that got up. Half of the students remained on the ground, wondering why they hadn’t gone in to the air. The students in the air weren’t much better off, since most of them had trouble controlling their brooms. Aiden, Jayden, and Mat seemed to be the only three without large problems. All three boys had been on a broom before, and just rising into the air was a piece of cake.
“Okay, touch back down now. Potter, I have a challenge for you. I want to see if you inherited your father’s flying genes. Back up in the air you go.” Madame Hooch took a small, golden snitch out of her pocket, and held it up for the class to see. “This is a snitch used in Quidditch. Anyone can try to catch it if they think they can get it before Aiden. It’s spelled not to go far, just out of sight for a little while.”
Jayden mounted his broom again, and kicked off into the air. “Might as well try, right?”
Mat followed suit. The other students figured they didn’t have a chance verse a Potter. Madame Hooch let go of the golden snitch, and watched it momentarily.
It hovered for a little bit, unsure of where to go. Then it whizzed off, and disappeared amongst the high castle walls.
Almost like instinct, Aiden rose higher on his broom, circling the area above the rest of the students. Jayden rose, but remained stationary. Mat rose to Aiden’s level, and although he didn’t move his broom, he looked around him with a solemn expression.
Madame Hooch continued lessons with the other students while the two Gryffindors and the Syltherin looked for the snitch. She glanced up often to be sure they were still there, but didn’t want to waste precious instruction time watching what could take hours to proceed.
After a good half hour, a glint caught in the corner of Aiden’s eye. He raced towards it, side by side with Mat and followed by Jayden. It was obvious the lagging Gryffindor hadn’t seen the snitch - but the Slytherin had spotted it as Aiden had. As the snitch plummeted towards the ground in an almost vertical line, both leading boys took a nosedive, while Jayden pulled back, unwilling to try.
They kept bumping into each other, whether it was purposeful or accidental couldn’t be determined. Everyone was watching the two boys following a snitch that made a sharp ninety degree turn towards the lake.
Aiden and Mat pulled their brooms up yet continued forward, neither one willing to give up the chase after the snitch. They got closer and closer to it; Aiden reached out his hand to grab it. Neither one noticed the bluebird that flew by until it passed right in front of them, as startled at their speed as they were that it was there. The boys ran into each other, and Mat reached out as they both fell about thirty feet to the ground.
Mat twisted in the air, pushing against Aiden towards the ground. He braced himself, and landed on his hands and knees. The first year rolled over just in time to catch Aiden as he fell on top of the Syltherin. As the long haired boy stood up, he slid something smooth and round into the Gryffindor’s open hand.
Madame Hooch rushed over, panicked. “Oh, boy. Are you two okay?” She didn’t seem satisfied with the nod that they gave, however, and proceeded to pat them down and check for broken bones anyway. Mat shied away from the pat down, ducking to avoid the hands.
“Here’s the snitch, Professor.” The raven haired boy held out his hand with the golden ball, and gave it to the flying teacher. He sighed, and scanned the air for the brooms they’d fallen off of.
“They’re gone. Forget about it, Potter. Ran into that willow on the far side of the school already. They’re mulch.” The Slytherin started to walk away, bored with the class and wishing to take care of the bruises he’d gotten from the fall. Madame Hooch grabbed him roughly by the arm, nodded to Aiden, and dismissed the rest of the class.
“We haven’t had a decent game of Quidditch at this school since Harry Potter left. Now we’ve found two excellent seekers. Both of you will be joining the house team, and you’ll both be receiving school brooms to use. Don’t get cocky though, you’re both still first years. And I don’t expect anymore crazy stunts like what you two just pulled. Who knows what it’ll break next time.” Madame Hooch shivered, and let the boys return to their dorms. There weren’t any more classes that day anyway, so they both walked in silence towards the castle. Well, almost silence.
“Hey, Riddle. I have a question.” Aiden was quiet, almost unsure of breaking the silence they’d been comfortable in.
“Knowing you, it’s a stupid one, Potter. And if it’s about your dad, forget it.” The Slytherin was cold, and radiated an aura that said he didn’t want to answer any questions.
“Shut it, Riddle. Why’d you hand me the snitch?” The Gryffindor asked the question quickly, not sure if he wanted to find out the answer.
Mat never answered. Instead, he turned away from the castle and headed towards the Whomping Willow, and what looked like the remains of the once magical brooms.
~~~~~
He was running from those emerald eyes. He could feel them, looking through him. Those eyes that said that he wouldn’t get away; he’d be open prey, like a wounded bird to a feral tomcat. And he wanted that person. He wanted him so badly it hurt.
He tripped, and landed hard on his right knee.
The pain shook him out of his dreams, and he discovered himself on the floor beside his bed. Slowly he picked himself up off the ground, sitting on the edge of his bed. He ignored the pain as he felt his knee for the second time that day - to be sure he hadn’t made it worse. Apparently, though, the second fall had misaligned the ligament once again. Biting his tongue, he pushed the bones in his leg back into place. He ignored the blood dripping from his mouth onto his covers, and didn’t stop until he was satisfied the frame was back in place. He lay back down, trying not to think of the nightmare.
The pain in his leg flared, reminding him again of just how broken it’d become. The pain kept the usually insomniac boy awake. Not that he’d wanted to sleep, after remembering the look in those emerald eyes.
~~~~~
Come the weekend after the flying lessons, both boys had practice with their house teams. Aiden woke up Saturday excited, and ready to get back on a broom. Breakfast went almost too slow for him, waiting for the afternoon practice to come around. He wasted time writing a letter to Ron and Hermione to tell them the news.
The morning mail arrived, bringing in newspapers carried by millions of owls, mostly tawnys belonging to the school. A sleek eagle owl swept into the room, and after circling once, dropped a long, sleek package in front of Aiden. A long sleek package shaped rather like a broomstick.
There were three words on the note, and a set of unfamiliar initials.
Open in dormitory.
-DM.
Aiden decided to include this in his letter, once he opened the package.
The Gryffindor nudged Jayden, who’d been talking to a very pretty Ravenclaw girl. He nodded to the broom, and both boys left, almost running towards the dorms. They dashed right past a group of fawning female Slytherins, and a long haired boy who watched them as they passed, more interested then he should have been.
In the dormitory, Aiden ripped open the package to reveal the first broom the makers of the original Firebolt have made since the Firebolt, accumulating twenty years of research to make a broom far beyond any in the market. A brand new Blue Flame, worth about 300 gallions to any broom collector. Currently, only one Quidditch team could afford such expensive brooms for their team; the Chudley Cannons.
Who was DM, to have sent such an expensive broom? And who was he to know that Aiden needed one? No one in the school had the same initials; well, no one who Aiden knew. Hopefully Ron and Hermione would know, though. Aiden hurried to write the new detail in the letter, before Jayden ran away with his new broom, which was quite possible given the drool that had already dropped into the tail of the Flame. Practice today was going to be interesting.
~~~~~
Practice was exhausting, but he couldn’t sleep. His knee wasn’t the one stopping him, though. He’d watched the other practice - the other team with a new seeker. He’d made a mistake in doing that; He already wasn’t what he should be, what he used to be.
He was afraid to sleep. Afraid that those emerald eyes would come after him again, watching his movement. Those emerald eyes so similar to the ones he loved. Eyes he shouldn’t love.
He was afraid to sleep, but exhaustion overtook him. He battled it out for a while, but finally gave up and let the nightmares overtake him once again.
He woke up once he’d managed to toss and turn onto the floor.
How was it? Comment~ (Oh, and chapter 3, unedited and unre-read, is long. haha)
Author: fasterleaner, a.k.a. Kai
Rating: PG-16, higher scenes will be friend-locked.
Length: Chapter 2/[?]
Year: 1/7
Warnings and Disclaimers: It's there before the story. I will only post it once. It can be found here. This link will also lead you to the soundtrack.
Summery: 11 years after Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort disappear, two unlikely boys find the weight of the world on their shoulders as everyone looks towards them to end this war. I bring you the seven years at Hogwarts of Harry Potter's son. Pre-Deathly Hallows. (I know, my summaries suck. I'll get a better one from someone who knows the entire plot and can actually write well.)
Previous chapters are linked on the Warnings and Disclaimers page. It's handy for such things.
This chapter is un-beta-d. Such a busy week, no one who'd been attempting to beta before had time, haha. Enjoy~
Chapter 2 - Flying and Nightmares
The first flying lessons for first years were announced a few days later. Madame Hooch was still teaching flying, despite a bad fall two years earlier that resulted in three broken bones, two broken ribs, and a crack in her skull. This year she was looking forward to teaching - she expected the young Potter to have inherited his flying skills from his father.
“Well? Step up to your brooms and call ‘Up’”, Madame Hooch watched as the students tried. Few got it right the first time, Potter being one of them. As if she couldn’t predict that one.
Madame Hooch demonstrated the correct way to mount a broom, and showed the students how to push up off the ground and hover.
“Your turn. On my count of three! 1…2…3!”
The first years pushed themselves off the ground, hovering a few feet. Well, those that got up. Half of the students remained on the ground, wondering why they hadn’t gone in to the air. The students in the air weren’t much better off, since most of them had trouble controlling their brooms. Aiden, Jayden, and Mat seemed to be the only three without large problems. All three boys had been on a broom before, and just rising into the air was a piece of cake.
“Okay, touch back down now. Potter, I have a challenge for you. I want to see if you inherited your father’s flying genes. Back up in the air you go.” Madame Hooch took a small, golden snitch out of her pocket, and held it up for the class to see. “This is a snitch used in Quidditch. Anyone can try to catch it if they think they can get it before Aiden. It’s spelled not to go far, just out of sight for a little while.”
Jayden mounted his broom again, and kicked off into the air. “Might as well try, right?”
Mat followed suit. The other students figured they didn’t have a chance verse a Potter. Madame Hooch let go of the golden snitch, and watched it momentarily.
It hovered for a little bit, unsure of where to go. Then it whizzed off, and disappeared amongst the high castle walls.
Almost like instinct, Aiden rose higher on his broom, circling the area above the rest of the students. Jayden rose, but remained stationary. Mat rose to Aiden’s level, and although he didn’t move his broom, he looked around him with a solemn expression.
Madame Hooch continued lessons with the other students while the two Gryffindors and the Syltherin looked for the snitch. She glanced up often to be sure they were still there, but didn’t want to waste precious instruction time watching what could take hours to proceed.
After a good half hour, a glint caught in the corner of Aiden’s eye. He raced towards it, side by side with Mat and followed by Jayden. It was obvious the lagging Gryffindor hadn’t seen the snitch - but the Slytherin had spotted it as Aiden had. As the snitch plummeted towards the ground in an almost vertical line, both leading boys took a nosedive, while Jayden pulled back, unwilling to try.
They kept bumping into each other, whether it was purposeful or accidental couldn’t be determined. Everyone was watching the two boys following a snitch that made a sharp ninety degree turn towards the lake.
Aiden and Mat pulled their brooms up yet continued forward, neither one willing to give up the chase after the snitch. They got closer and closer to it; Aiden reached out his hand to grab it. Neither one noticed the bluebird that flew by until it passed right in front of them, as startled at their speed as they were that it was there. The boys ran into each other, and Mat reached out as they both fell about thirty feet to the ground.
Mat twisted in the air, pushing against Aiden towards the ground. He braced himself, and landed on his hands and knees. The first year rolled over just in time to catch Aiden as he fell on top of the Syltherin. As the long haired boy stood up, he slid something smooth and round into the Gryffindor’s open hand.
Madame Hooch rushed over, panicked. “Oh, boy. Are you two okay?” She didn’t seem satisfied with the nod that they gave, however, and proceeded to pat them down and check for broken bones anyway. Mat shied away from the pat down, ducking to avoid the hands.
“Here’s the snitch, Professor.” The raven haired boy held out his hand with the golden ball, and gave it to the flying teacher. He sighed, and scanned the air for the brooms they’d fallen off of.
“They’re gone. Forget about it, Potter. Ran into that willow on the far side of the school already. They’re mulch.” The Slytherin started to walk away, bored with the class and wishing to take care of the bruises he’d gotten from the fall. Madame Hooch grabbed him roughly by the arm, nodded to Aiden, and dismissed the rest of the class.
“We haven’t had a decent game of Quidditch at this school since Harry Potter left. Now we’ve found two excellent seekers. Both of you will be joining the house team, and you’ll both be receiving school brooms to use. Don’t get cocky though, you’re both still first years. And I don’t expect anymore crazy stunts like what you two just pulled. Who knows what it’ll break next time.” Madame Hooch shivered, and let the boys return to their dorms. There weren’t any more classes that day anyway, so they both walked in silence towards the castle. Well, almost silence.
“Hey, Riddle. I have a question.” Aiden was quiet, almost unsure of breaking the silence they’d been comfortable in.
“Knowing you, it’s a stupid one, Potter. And if it’s about your dad, forget it.” The Slytherin was cold, and radiated an aura that said he didn’t want to answer any questions.
“Shut it, Riddle. Why’d you hand me the snitch?” The Gryffindor asked the question quickly, not sure if he wanted to find out the answer.
Mat never answered. Instead, he turned away from the castle and headed towards the Whomping Willow, and what looked like the remains of the once magical brooms.
~~~~~
He was running from those emerald eyes. He could feel them, looking through him. Those eyes that said that he wouldn’t get away; he’d be open prey, like a wounded bird to a feral tomcat. And he wanted that person. He wanted him so badly it hurt.
He tripped, and landed hard on his right knee.
The pain shook him out of his dreams, and he discovered himself on the floor beside his bed. Slowly he picked himself up off the ground, sitting on the edge of his bed. He ignored the pain as he felt his knee for the second time that day - to be sure he hadn’t made it worse. Apparently, though, the second fall had misaligned the ligament once again. Biting his tongue, he pushed the bones in his leg back into place. He ignored the blood dripping from his mouth onto his covers, and didn’t stop until he was satisfied the frame was back in place. He lay back down, trying not to think of the nightmare.
The pain in his leg flared, reminding him again of just how broken it’d become. The pain kept the usually insomniac boy awake. Not that he’d wanted to sleep, after remembering the look in those emerald eyes.
~~~~~
Come the weekend after the flying lessons, both boys had practice with their house teams. Aiden woke up Saturday excited, and ready to get back on a broom. Breakfast went almost too slow for him, waiting for the afternoon practice to come around. He wasted time writing a letter to Ron and Hermione to tell them the news.
The morning mail arrived, bringing in newspapers carried by millions of owls, mostly tawnys belonging to the school. A sleek eagle owl swept into the room, and after circling once, dropped a long, sleek package in front of Aiden. A long sleek package shaped rather like a broomstick.
There were three words on the note, and a set of unfamiliar initials.
Open in dormitory.
-DM.
Aiden decided to include this in his letter, once he opened the package.
The Gryffindor nudged Jayden, who’d been talking to a very pretty Ravenclaw girl. He nodded to the broom, and both boys left, almost running towards the dorms. They dashed right past a group of fawning female Slytherins, and a long haired boy who watched them as they passed, more interested then he should have been.
In the dormitory, Aiden ripped open the package to reveal the first broom the makers of the original Firebolt have made since the Firebolt, accumulating twenty years of research to make a broom far beyond any in the market. A brand new Blue Flame, worth about 300 gallions to any broom collector. Currently, only one Quidditch team could afford such expensive brooms for their team; the Chudley Cannons.
Who was DM, to have sent such an expensive broom? And who was he to know that Aiden needed one? No one in the school had the same initials; well, no one who Aiden knew. Hopefully Ron and Hermione would know, though. Aiden hurried to write the new detail in the letter, before Jayden ran away with his new broom, which was quite possible given the drool that had already dropped into the tail of the Flame. Practice today was going to be interesting.
~~~~~
Practice was exhausting, but he couldn’t sleep. His knee wasn’t the one stopping him, though. He’d watched the other practice - the other team with a new seeker. He’d made a mistake in doing that; He already wasn’t what he should be, what he used to be.
He was afraid to sleep. Afraid that those emerald eyes would come after him again, watching his movement. Those emerald eyes so similar to the ones he loved. Eyes he shouldn’t love.
He was afraid to sleep, but exhaustion overtook him. He battled it out for a while, but finally gave up and let the nightmares overtake him once again.
He woke up once he’d managed to toss and turn onto the floor.
How was it? Comment~ (Oh, and chapter 3, unedited and unre-read, is long. haha)