A Prophecy of Two Boys

Chapter 17

Chapter 17

A boy stood at his bedroom window, his dark hair still messy from sleep. He wore pyjamas that were far too small for him, decorated with tiny little snitches and broomsticks. The boy was young, maybe six years old, but his eyes looked older, much, much older. They were a clear emerald, and were clouded with sorrow as he watched the scene outside.

Another boy, and identical copy of the boy at the window was laughing with an older man, presumably their father. The man was tall, and had the same messy black hair as the twins, however his eyes were a warm hazel rather than green. Otherwise the two twins could have been a clone of their father, having his bone structure and sharp features.

The boy outside was riding a small broomstick, laughing as his father chased him round the field. After a while his father disappeared for a little while. While he was gone, the six year old on the broomstick sat on the ground, looking around. He caught sight of his twin by the window and a frown flittered across his face. For a moment, the two twins had the exact same look in their eyes; a dull pain brought on by recognition. The boy in the field said one word. A name. Of course, his twin could hear it, being too far away and shielded behind a glass wall, but he could guess which name it was. His name. Harry.

Harry whirled around as his bedroom door opened. A red-haired woman with emerald eyes and a warm motherly expression stood behind it. Her eyes darkened with annoyance as she caught sight of the boy's bedroom. Small, childish painting were drawn onto the walls near the floor. Of course, in her annoyance that they were there in the first place she failed to notice that they moved. She brought out a willow wand and waved it. The pictures vanished, much to Harry's dismay.

But the boy didn't say a word, he just stared at his mother with large, sad eyes and let a lonely tear trickle down his face. He mouthed a word, unwilling to utter it out loud but still desperate to say it.

'Mother.' Such a simple word that to a child meant so many things. It meant love and security and help. It was a person that meant the world to a child, if only they were there to earn that title.

Lily Potter was a distant figure to little Harry. He craved her attention and wanted her to notice him so much and yet she only seemed to have eyes for the achievement of his brother. Lily beckoned her youngest son impatiently.

"Well, Harry? Are you coming to breakfast or not? I called for you ten minutes ago. Come on!" Lily snapped, obviously tired and distracted by something. Whatever it was, Harry didn't want to find out. He walked silently over to her and followed Lily down to the dining hall.

Harry sat down silently in his reserved seat, opposite where his brother would sit. It didn't fail to escape his notice that neither his father nor his brother were at the table either. But if he got upset for every time that this happened to him, Harry would have frown lines before he was ten. But he was used to it by now, and just sat there waiting for the rest of his family to come back.

After a while a slight change overcame little Harry. His straight posture seemed to suddenly slump, and yawned as if he was very tired. If you looked closely enough you could see his eyes were a slightly different shade of green – more of a sea-green than emerald now. Somehow, despite his tired and relaxed posture, he also looked almost as if he was more on edge, ready to get up a flee should he need too.

Just then Harry's father and brother walked in, laughing.

"You should see Charles fly, Lily-Flower." Harry's father James crowed. "He's a natural!"

Charles sat down opposite Harry. "Hey Percy."

Harry – or 'Percy' now – beamed at his brother. "Hey Charles. We watched you today, you were really good!"