Memory

Harry loves the Shadows.

Perhaps it’s a result of how much time he spends locked in his cupboard, with nothing but the darkness to keep him company.

Perhaps it’s because of the way that the Shadows will hide him sometimes when he's running from Dudley. Making it appear to all as if he was never there.

Perhaps, and this is the most likely reason of all, it was because they were his friends.

Just like the snakes that hissed and spoke with him in the garden, the Shadows would whisper to him when he was alone.

They spoke of something Other, something Else and something Better.

At night, when the Dursleys slumbered and Things prowled the streets during the Witching hours. The Shadows would whisper to him.

Sometimes they would tell him stories of his mother and the realm she came from.

They told him of the boundless fields that were a constant throughout the Realms of Faerie and how they were filled with flowers. Some flowers sang. Some flowers produced scents that addled the mind and ensnared the senses trapping wanderers for decades or centuries at a time. Some were carnivorous and would try to eat the foolish that wandered too close. They would also whisper sparingly of creatures such as Nargles and Heliopaths that lived within these fields, occasionally visiting the mortal realm in hopes of causing mayhem and confusion.

They murmured him of the gaping chasm that littered the borders of the Unseelie court, filled with shadows, madness and Whispermen. Beings that would lure foolish mortals who managed to get into faerie down, down, down into the earth and to their deaths. Or so it was assumed. One had to wonder WHERE exactly the Whispermen came from. They weren’t exactly of the fey after all…

They whisper to him, in hushed near reverent tones, of the Unseelie court itself. How it was currently situated within a gilded palace that seemed to grow out of the mountain itself, decadent and simply Other in its beauty. The walls were hung with living darkness and the ceilings decorated with garlands made from silver and spiders’ silk that shone like moonbeams. Creeping vines that were embedded with gems grew throughout the palaces, glowing softly with captured moonlight and dragons fire. They cast shadows that moved when you looked at them from the corner of your eye. The Unseelie court was near monstrous in its beauty as unlike the Seelie court its inhabitants were not as contrary in their nature so felt no need to conceal their sharp edges. Both figuratively and literally, if the court garden filled with razor-sharp ice that the Shadows once mentioned was to be considered.

They even whispered to him in halting tones about the Seelie court. (you must understand that it was not that they did not Like the Seelie, Far From It, but that they were not of that court so simply did not know). They spoke of a land much like Alice’s wonderland. If Alice’s wonderland had been as deadly and beautiful as it was contrary. The Seelie and Unseelie both enjoyed games, it was in their nature. But the Seelie often brought it to a whole new level. Revelling in the confusion their lands brought to the ill-prepared mortals and humans that managed to wander in through ancient gateways.

When Harry asked them if he would ever get to see this realm that was his own through blood, the Shadows would coalesce around him in a type of hug and softly tell him in a voice rich with promise - and something far more ominous - that someone was coming to find him, and that they would return him to the fey soon enough.
Strangely, this always made Harry feel warm inside.

Sometimes, they spoke to him of his father and the world of mortal magick that he came from.

They whispered, tones edging near disapproval but not quite there, of a society where perceived blood superiority was used to measure ones standing and place within over convoluted social structures. Blood IS important, they murmur, it can be a great source of power to those who understand it. But the way they judge it is Wrong and based upon lies that have no foundation.

They told him of his place within their society. Of the titles they bestowed him. Of the reverent way in which they worshipped him. They mocked the way in which the Wizards and Witchling’s society looked upon him as a God, all the while unaware and uncaring of how he lived. Harry had once asked if it was not his society as well, inherited through his father just as the faerie realms claimed him through his mother. And oh, how they’d laughed. “Hussssh Little Treasure” they’d crooned “you are not theirs, you are meant for somewhere else.” He hadn’t asked again, understanding on some level that this was not meant be explain yet.

They hissed of a man who sat upon a throne of belief -the most dangerous kind of all- watching over the world of mortal magic and crafting it in his own design. They scorned the man whose tong dripped with honeyed lies, as he manipulated the minds of the young and impressionable. Melding them, shaping them, and in some cases forcibly CHANGING them so that they could be used as chess pieces for a game that not even the fey understood the point of. All Fairfolk love games, they would explain soothingly, but there are rules, rules that should never be broken.

They even told him of how this society truly came to be. Not the lies that their forebearers had told for so long that they actually believed them! No, not that. They whispered to him of a time when the fey were at the brink of oblivion. The gene pool too small. The fey would live, but no more would be born. They would stagnate, a fate far worse than death. Eventually, an idea came about, no one can remember exactly who came up with it. It was proposed that they should mate with the mortal creatures and see what came of it. If nothing else, it would be amusing.

From the union with reptiles came Wyverns, Dragons, Basilisks, Snakes, Hydras, Runespoors, Horned Serpents and Cockatrice.

From the union with Bats came the Chupacabra’s.

From the unions with the aquatic species came all manner of Sea Dragons, Firecrabs, Hippocampuses, Kappas and Grindylows.

From the union with Cats came Kneazles, Sphinxes, Wampuses, Griffins, Shadow Panthers, Manticore, Chimera and Nemean Lions.

From the union with Dogs came Crups, Cerberi, Hellhounds and Grims.

From the union with Badgers came Nifflers.

From the union with Birds came Snidgets, Hippogriffs, Phoenixes, Thunderbirds, Jobberknolls, and Occamys.

From the union with insects came Billywigs.

From the union with Rabbits came Jackalopes and Puffskeins.

From the union with Spiders came Acromantula’s.

From the union with Horses came Kelpies, Unicorns and Thestrals.

From the union with Hedgehogs came Knarls.

But it was the union with humans that produced the most desirable results. Witches and Wizards were born. Some were weak in magick and undesirable.
Too human,
Too breakable,
Toolesser.
Others though. Others were so achingly of the fey that a few trips to faerie would cause the mortal taint to fade, leaving behind a new immortal that brought fresh blood and magic to the faerie realms.

These true children of the Sidhe would be stolen away when they were discovered. Too precious a Treasure to be left with mere mortals.

Once, and only once, had Harry noticed that the Shadows called him Little Treasure in just the same way as they did these children. But, no sooner had he noticed and asked upon this similarity, his eyes had become hooded with tiredness and his body already heavy with exhaustion had given in to the sultry call of sleep. Harry never notice that the Shadows had for once remained silent.

Awakening in the morning, he remembered nothing of his late-night revelation. It was not yet time for such things after all.

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Shadows are everywhere.

We see them every day.

So much so that we never really pay attention to them.
Perhaps we should.

After all, they are a state of in-between. Not quite Darkness, but definitely not Light.

And it is in these places of in-between that doorways can be opened.
Allowing Something, to creep through.

Dumbledore really should have paid more attention to Harry.