Chapter 1

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As Harry sat down on the train beside a sleeping, silver haired woman, he found himself comforted by the familiarity of his younger, more ordinary days. He knew it was likely unwise to have taken any mode of public transit with his status, but he hoped his simple disguise of a hat and sunglasses would allow him a 'normal' two hour commute. At the very least he hoped it would give him a few moments to reflect on how quickly his life was passing him by.

He reached into his bag to grab his novel, when two pale calves and a pair of black pumps captured his attention. His eyes trailed up them as discretely as possible, to find a strawberry blonde, with her face hidden within the pages of a literary classic; Dorian Gray. Harry was intrigued to say the least.

Every so often Harry peered from behind his shades and over the edge of his book, to find she was still lost in Oscar Wilde's carefully crafted sentences. He tried his best to think up a way to capture her attention without making it obvious he was seeking it. All he wanted was to see the face behind the book, only if it was for the briefest of seconds.

Awe hit Harry rather hard, when the train braked to reach its stop; her book lowered and revealed a timeless beauty, much as he expected. But Harry was also struck by disappointment upon realization that she had lowered her book and packed up her belongings to get off. Only to be surprised when she tapped on an older woman's shoulder, who stood beside her seat.

"Excuse me ma'am, would you like to have my seat?" her sweet voice rang.

Harry was finding himself even more intrigued by her with every passing second.

"Thank you," the woman responded, "not many people offer up their seat."

"It's only the right thing to do," the young woman responded, now standing in the aisle with a firm grip around the pole, as not to fall.

Harry saw the silent struggle she endured while standing in four inch heels and stood up from his seat. He looked at her hand before he addressed her; she didn't bear a ring, a plus.

"Um, miss, you can have my seat," Harry's throaty and charming accent quietly insisted.

The girl's eyes shifted towards him and he caught his first sight of her pale teal gaze. She smiled politely and adjusted her skirt.

"Oh, no it's all right, I can stand," she replied with a gentle nature that Harry enjoyed.

"Please, I insist," he urged moving aside.

She glanced at the seat and then at him, before maneuvering into it. "Thank you, that's very kind," she said while pulling her novel back out.

"No, what you did was kind," Harry replied with a genuine grin.

She grinned back at him before digging back into the pages of her book.

Harry spent the next half an hour thinking of some way to strike up a conversation, finally deciding her interest in the novel and his familiarity of it, having read it, made an okay conversation point.

"Wilde's best work," Harry said breaking the silence.

She smirked and glanced up at him, then placed the separated pages carefully in her lap.

"Agreed, a true masterpiece... Although I do prefer Heart of Darkness," she responded.

Harry was delighted to hear how well rounded her literary collection sounded, and to again be familiar with this one.

"Joseph Conrad, another good pick," he replied as he felt the train begin to halt again. He prayed this wasn't her stop after the effort he had put into coming up with a good conversation.

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