Search:

SIYE Time:0:24 on 29th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


Paintball Wizard
By cackling stump

- Text Size +

Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Romance, Tragedy
Warnings: Death
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 319
Summary: The life of a typical American teenager (okay, maybe not so typical) is shaken by tragedy. Then he discovers a new world awaiting him, filled with new people, new struggles, and, perhaps, new love.
Hitcount: Story Total: 256032; Chapter Total: 6333
Awards: View Trophy Room






ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter


Searching for the Past

The next day Brook awoke with a renewed optimism and desire to figure out how to get Ginny back. After being checked over one more time by Madam Pomfrey, he left the hospital wing in time to have breakfast. However, when he arrived in the Great Hall, Ginny was aloof again. She asked how he was, and when he responded that he was okay, she said good and walked down the table to sit with her roommates. Her cold shoulder brought back the disheartened feelings of the last few days.

Then in class, when he started taking notes and put the date on the top of his parchment, he realized that he had an additional reason to be depressed; it was the first of November. November first had always been a special day of celebration for his family; that was the anniversary of the day his parents had found him. They always had a bigger celebration on that day than for his birthday since they didn’t know exactly when his birthday was. He spent the whole day missing his parents and the way they would celebrate. He would come home after school, and they would drive to Columbus, the nearest large city, and have dinner at their favourite Thai restaurant. After dinner they would drive back home, retelling the story of their discovery of him on their porch and their battle to convince Child Protective Services to let them adopt him and how they named him after the initials on the blanket. Even though he knew it by heart, the story always reminded him of how much they loved him and how much they had given up to keep him.

As he was sitting on his bed with the curtains drawn, reminiscing while looking at pictures of his parents, he thought, If my parents found me on November first, it must mean that my birth parents must have died on October thirty-first! As he stared at his mom and dad, he realized that he should be mourning his birth parents as well, but he knew next to nothing about them. Professor McGonagall had told him a little, but he yearned for more. He didn’t even have any idea what they looked like. He remembered that Professor Dumbledore had said that his parents had been Head Boy and Girl and his father was a good Quidditch player. He had seen a trophy room on the third floor and wondered if there were any pictures of his parents there. He put on his Invisibility Cloak, slipped out of the dorm and through the common room. He saw Ginny there, looking as sad as he felt, and almost stopped to talk to her, but decided to continue on his mission. As he went through the portrait hole, she looked up, but when she didn’t see anything she went back to her studying.

He found the trophy room, removed his cloak, and began searching. He first found a plaque with a list of the Head Boys and Girls and found “Lily Evans, James Potter 1977-1978.” He touched their engraved names, and tears started to flow. He then looked through the Quidditch trophies and pictures of the late 1970s, until he found the picture for the 1977-1978 Gryffindor team. He found James Potter on the list of team members and looked at the person corresponding to the name. As he found the face, he gasped. It was like looking at a mirror of his old self, waving and mugging for the camera. Dumbledore and Mr Ollivander had said he looked just like his father, but here was the evidence. He had the same wild hair, the same face, even the same glasses, by coincidence. Occasionally, he would put rabbit ears behind one of his teammates, showing a mischievous grin that he had seen on his own face more than a few times. As he looked at the picture of the man who was his father, it was like the dam that he had been using to hold back his emotions all day burst, and he collapsed to the ground, sobbing as he acknowledged the hole in his heart from never knowing these two people who had given him life.

He had no idea how long he sat there crying and he didn’t pause until he felt a soft touch on his shoulder and heard Ginny ask, “Brook, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The compassionate look in her eyes tugged at his heart and he pulled her to him roughly and started sobbing again. She just held him, rocking him like he had done for her before, saying, “There, there. I’m here. I’m here.”

They sat like that for a few minutes until he calmed down. When he finally stopped crying, he looked at her and asked, “How did you find me?” He knew she hadn’t followed him since he was using the Invisibility Cloak.

“I was sitting in the common room and somehow I knew you were troubled. It's the same feeling I get in the middle of the night that makes me come down to see if you are in the common room after a nightmare. I still don't understand it, but I've learned to trust those feelings as most of the time there you are, sitting by yourself in front of the fire. Anyway, somehow I could feel you were there, but couldn’t see you. I felt like something was pulling me in certain directions, so I just followed those feelings until I heard you in here.” Brook started to ask her something, but she put a finger to his lips. “I want to say something first. I want to tell you I am sorry. Dean warned you about my temper and unfortunately now you have seen it. While I don’t like it that you are keeping a secret from me, if Dumbledore told you not to tell anyone, I can respect that. I promise I won’t push you to tell me until he says it is okay.

“Now, what about your tears? Can you tell me what is wrong?” she asked tenderly.

Brook hesitated for a moment while he thought. Finally, he sighed, having made the decision to trust her. “It’s all tied up with the secret; I need to talk to someone, and keeping this from you has been eating away at me.” He paused again before continuing. “So to hell with Dumbledore, I am going to tell you.” With a swish of his wand, he cast Locking, Silencing, and Imperturbable Charms on the doors to the room.

“Brook, you don’t have to. I can be patient, though it is against my nature,” she said with a smile.

That evinced a small chuckle from Brook. “No, I need to stop living this lie, at least with you. You see, I’m not who you think I am. Even my name is a lie.”

“You mean your name isn’t really Brook Pelton?”

“Well, it is and it isn’t.” Ginny got a perplexed look on her face. “I know, it’s confusing, so let me start at the beginning. Much of the story I told you on the Hogwarts Express is true, but not all of it. I really did grow up in America as Brook Pelton, a Muggle, with Mark and Angela Pelton as my parents. And I didn’t know that I was a wizard until a few months ago, after they were killed, but it wasn’t just an accident. Their car was attacked by an evil wizard and exploded. That’s how I learned that magic existed. Anyway, while I was raised there, I was adopted. You see, I was born here in Britain to a wizard and a witch, so it is not surprising that I am magical also. Both my birth parents were involved in the Wizarding War, and, when I was about fifteen months old, they were killed by an evil wizard, the most evil, Voldemort.” Ginny gasped at the saying of the name. “And he tried to kill me. Dumbledore doesn’t totally understand it, but when he tried to kill me, the spell backfired somehow, and Voldemort disappeared. But so did I. Some ancient magic caused me to be sent to my nearest living relatives, the Peltons in America. My birth mother and my adopted mother were second cousins.”

Brook could see the wheels turning in Ginny’s mind. “That would make you . . .” but she couldn’t finish the sentence as her jaw opened in astonishment.

“Yes, I am Harry Potter. And my parents were James and Lily Potter.”

“The Family-that-Died-So-We-Could-Live,” she whispered.

“Except that I didn’t die, as you can see. And neither did Voldemort. As a matter of fact, Dumbledore found me only due to the fact that Voldemort had sent a Death Eater to the U.S. to find any wizards that were my age and had black hair and green eyes and send them back here to Britain. For what reason, we don’t know. After finding one boy who met those characteristics at Salem, this Death Eater found me too and attempted to send me back here, too. Fortunately, he never told Voldemort about me, and Dumbledore had him Obliviated, but he still wants me to keep my existence a secret. So, he charmed my ring to change my appearance.” Brook took off his ring and Ginny gasped again, but was speechless. “The reason I was crying was that this is the anniversary of when my birth parents died and I came to my adopted parents. I came down here to see if I could find any pictures of my birth parents. And I did.” He stood up and pointed to Gryffindor House team photo. “Here is a picture of my father . . .”

“James Potter,” Ginny interrupted in a whisper. “You look just like your father, except you have green eyes. You’re the man in my dreams… not James,” she said barely loud enough for him to hear.

“Huh?” Brook asked, a bit mystified. “It’s nice to know I’m the man of your dreams, but why would you be dreaming about my father?”

Ginny continued to gaze at the photograph as she explained, “I have been having these dreams for the last few months when I am walking in a fog, looking for someone. Then the fog clears, and I see you, but I always thought it was James Potter. Your family is famous, and everyone knows what he looked like. So, when I see you, I say, ‘Ready? Let’s end this, together!’ And then we run off into the fog, and then I wake up. It is strange that the dream is so vivid; I never have any problems remembering even the details, like the colour of your eyes.” She was now looking into those eyes, her hands exploring his face. “Though, I have never noticed your scar; it must have been covered by your hair.” Her fingers travelled to the scar on his forehead, caressing it gently. “How did you get it?"

Now it was Brook’s turn to be astonished. “We think I got it when Voldemort hit me with the Killing Curse, because Dumbledore said I didn’t have it when he last saw me a few days before I disappeared and my parents described it as a fresh wound when they found me.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Most of the time it doesn’t, but sometimes I get these headaches that seem to be centred on the scar. The doctors have never been able to explain it fully.” He hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “Ginny, I have another secret to tell you; you are in my dreams also.”

“Well, I am not surprised; you are a teenaged boy, after all. Want to tell me about them?” with a naughty smirk and a raised eyebrow.

“No, not those kinds of dreams. Well, I do have those too,” he admitted, feeling his face heat uncomfortably, “but that’s not what I mean. I’ve been having the same dream as you, except from my point of view. The exact same thing, the same words, everything identical. Do you remember when we first met at the train station and how I was speechless?” Ginny nodded. “The reason I was so stunned was seeing you, the girl that I had been seeing in my dreams was real. And that’s not the only dream I’ve had about you. All my life, I’ve been dreaming about a ‘little red headed girl’; my parents would tease me about it because there is a comic strip character in America that is obsessed with a red headed girl. I think the girl I’ve been dreaming about must be you.”

“Me? Why do you think it was me?”

“I would just see this girl, about my age doing normal things like playing with dolls, helping with chores, and swimming in a pond. But often there would be odd things, like objects flying around the kitchen, or the girl throwing these things that look like potatoes with arms and legs out of the garden, what you described to me as garden gnomes in Hogsmeade. I thought they were just fanciful dreams, but now I think it was magic and not my imagination. Then as she grew, she went to school and started attending classes. I would see you sitting listening to lectures or walking around what I thought was a museum, which I thought was odd, but now I see that it must have been Hogwarts. Generally, when I had these dreams, I would feel this sense of peace during the dream and afterwards. But there was a period of time when the dreams were more like nightmares. The girl was always troubled and afraid, being forced to do things she didn’t want to do. When you told me about your first year, I started thinking, and it was the same time. That was what cemented the idea in my mind that I had been dreaming of you all my life. That is why I also had to get to know you and why I was so obsessed with you.”

“You were obsessed with me? Isn’t that a little strong?”

“Not really. I told you I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Well, I also changed my paths around the castle so I could see you in the hallways, and, did you notice that I was always in the library when you were? It wasn’t because I needed to study, but because you were there. I would also peek at you anytime I could, whether in the common room or at meals or even in class. Do you remember when Professor McGonagall took points away for me not paying attention in class? Well, that was because I was staring at you. That’s what her comment about me paying better attention in Transfiguration was about.”

“Yeah, I guess maybe you could call that obsessed,” she said with a little twinkle in her eyes. Then her eyes widened as something occurred to her. “Do you have any pictures of yourself growing up?”

“Yeah, I have a family photo album hidden at the bottom of my trunk. Why?”

“Well, I’ve been a little obsessed all my life too, with Harry Potter. I would always ask my parents to tell me his story when I was younger and I would dream of what he would have been like had he lived. Most of the time I would see him doing normal things as well, but sometimes I would see him riding in a car, or swinging what looked like a Beater’s bat in a weird costume, and I would be confused as to why my mind would create something like that. I always thought it was because of me liking the story, but maybe I’ve been actually dreaming of you as well. Maybe tomorrow you can show me your pictures to see if they match with my memories.”

Harry paused for a moment. “But what do these dreams mean? Why have we been dreaming about each other all these years? That isn’t normal in the Wizarding world, is it? And why are we now having the same dream that obviously hasn’t happened yet?”

“No, this isn’t normal in the Wizarding world; I’ve never heard of anything like this. I think we should talk to Dumbledore about this. But not right now. Now, I think we need to kiss and make up,” she said with that naughty smile back on her face. Ginny leaned into Harry as he put his arm around her, their lips meeting, resulting in tingling shocks going through their bodies.

“Mmmm,” murmured Brook as they separated.

“You took the words right out of my mouth,” replied Ginny.

“Must have been while you were kissing me,” answered Harry.

Ginny pulled back and asked, “What was that?”

“Those are just the words to a song my parents liked from when they were younger. My parents would occasionally say that as a joke. I always thought it was lame, but now …” His voice trailed off.

Ginny pulled him toward her, allowing him to bury his face in her hair. “But now,” she finished, “it’s just another thing you miss about them, and it hurts.” He nodded against her neck as tears started to flow again.

They sat like this for a few minutes until Harry sat up, and sniffed. “Sorry about that; today has been a real emotional day.”

“It’s fine. I’ve come to realize that loving you is going to be a wild broomstick ride.”

After a short silence, Ginny said, “Brook, or should I say Harry? . . . Oh, bloody hell. What should I call you? This is so very weird!”

Brook thought for a moment. “I think I like you calling me Harry. You’re the only one who knows my secret and that can be your secret name for me. Adds a little intrigue to our relationship, don’t you think?” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“I’d like that too. What I was starting to ask was how does Luna know about your secret? You certainly wouldn’t be crazy enough to tell her, are you?”

He shook his head. “I know better than that. You remember the glasses she was wearing on the Hogwarts Express? Those Spectrespecs, as she called them, can see through the charm on the ring, so she knows what I really look like. I have no idea if she recognizes me as Harry Potter or not, she just keeps whispering to me things like ‘I like you better as a brunette than a blonde,’ and ‘I love your green eyes.’ It drove me a little crazy worrying that she would slip, but what can you do about Luna? That’s just Luna being Luna.”

“I happen to agree with her; I like your real appearance much better than the fake one. Don’t get me wrong; I find you attractive as Brook,” she added quickly. “I know it sounds weird, but I always felt like there was something not quite right with the way you looked, like your personality didn’t really match your look. It was just a strange feeling.”

“Well, how about if, when we are alone, I take my ring off so I can be the real me?”

“If you’re sure you can handle me; you’re sexier like this and I don’t know if I can control myself.”

“I’ll take my chances,” he said as he enveloped her lips in his again.

A few minutes later, Harry pulled back and said, “As much as I enjoy kissing you, I think we should be getting back to the dorm. It’s after curfew and we don’t want to get in trouble.”

The couple helped each other up, but as Harry turned to leave, Ginny stopped him. She turned him towards her and put her arms on his. “Before we leave, I want to tell you how much it means to me that you are sharing this secret with me. I know I was upset about you keeping something from me, but now I see why you did. I’ve never had anyone trust me like you have in telling me this; it just deepens my feelings for you,” she said as tears started to pool in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, Gin. I had to tell you, I just couldn’t keep it from you any longer. You see, I know we haven’t known each other that long and it seems too early to say this, but I love you, Ginny Weasley, and I don’t want to keep anything from you anymore.”

“I love you, too, Harry Potter.” They kissed once more, a passionate expression of their love for each other.

It was fortunate that no one walked past the trophy room at that moment, because, outside the door, a soft glow could be seen coming through the cracks around it that would have given their location away.

A/N- Now that Harry/Brook will sometimes have his normal features, when I refer to him, I have chosen to call him the name that corresponds to his appearance at the time, similar to what Ginny is doing in the story. So, when he takes his ring off in Ginny’s presence, he will be Harry and when he is wearing his ring, he will be Brook. I know it will be a little confusing, but that seemed like the best solution to me.

Reviews 319
ChapterPrinter
StoryPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear