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HP stories following Canon but PRE-OotP >> A Simple 'Hello' by InvaderZimmy

Simple Text - To view MORE chapters use the chapter jump box to the right.
AN- For purposes of this story, he owns a Muggle telephon. The warning is AU for a reason! Also, theres a possibility of alternate endings… I don’t know yet. This ending, however, is my interpretation of the particular character when he was younger, not the man portrayed by the movies. And yes, there is a good reason I don’t tell you who she is until later on. I hope you like this!

Disclaimer- I own nothing except the poem that I wrote in August which this story spun off from, and what the characters say/do. Other than that, these are JKR’s puppets; I just pull the strings.

Quick note! I don’t know if the phone numbers are the same way as they are in the US (3 digit area code, 7 digit number) but the way I wrote this, it’s in the US format. Sorry!

A Simple ‘Hello’

She walked out of her bedroom slowly, feeling like somebody was downstairs. She felt a faint sense of urgency fill her, and, rounding the corner, she saw him, knowing him instantly by his dark hair and eyes. She tried running towards him, her heart wanting nothing more than to be in his arms, but it seemed as if an invisible barrier were separating the two of them. She could see the alarm in his eyes, and for the first time in her years of knowing him, she saw fear reflected in them.

“What’s wrong?” she asked him, her voice shaking slightly, truly scared for once. She looked into his eyes and saw raw panic this time, and he was trying to tell her something; he was talking very fast but no sound escaped his perfect lips. He kept speaking, not knowing that she couldn’t hear him, his eyes growing wider with every passing moment. She reached down for her wand, realizing that she had foolishly left it behind on her nightstand. She heard a noise, almost like footsteps, behind her. She looked over to where he was, but saw that he had vanished. She spun around, having heard the same sound but louder, and saw a dark figure approaching her quickly. Everything went black.


She woke up in the middle of the night, yelling, for the third time that week. She sat there struggling to calm down, trying to remember her always-evasive dream. All she could remember, though, was seeing his face; he was telling her something but no sound escaped him. Thinking, she knew it had to be important.

She stood up quickly, and immediately felt dizziness overcome her. She fell back onto her bed, and had to use her nightstand to pull herself back up. She slowly walked across her bedroom to her trunk and started rifling through the papers, looking for a single paper. After 10 minutes she finally found it: the simple phone number that was written in a tiny elegant script could only belong to him. She read over it three times, part of her secretly wishing he had given her a fake number in the hopes that it would throw her off the chase, but another part of her just wanted to hear his low, soft voice.

She slowly crept down the stairs, being very careful to avoid the squeaky spot in the hallway, and step over the second-to-last step, so as not to wake her parents, or anyone else for that matter. When she hit the last step, she stood statue-still, afraid somebody might have fallen asleep in the sitting room, or had come down for a drink. Finally, deciding that it was safe to move again, she relaxed and quickly strode into the kitchen.

She looked around quickly, her narrowed eyes searching, and finally found a faint white light; the moon’s reflection was bouncing off the plain white telephone. She half ran, half tip-toed to the light, and picked up the phone to see the glowing numbers. She stared at the lit buttons for a few minutes, and slowly pressed the first few numbers. Her heart sped up insanely as her finger slowly traced the last button. She waited for her pulse to slow down, but as she waited, she faintly heard “Your call cannot be completed as dialed. Please hang up, and try your call again.”

She laughed silently to herself and dialed the number again; this time she didn’t give herself the chance to hesitate and pressed the seventh number on the phone. For a moment, all she could hear was her own quickening heartbeat. In what seemed like forever, the silence stretched on, until finally, the lines connected. The ringing was thunderous compared to the previous silence, and hearing it sped her heart back up. The phone rang once, twice before she heard a soft click.

She wasted another moment to hear his voice, hoping it would be him, yet also hoping that it wasn’t.

“Hello?” he said, wondering who would be calling him at this time of night, but speaking so softly that if there wasn’t silence in the girl’s house, she never would’ve heard him speak.

She heard the single muttered word and recognized his voice instantly; it had been foolish of her to think that he might have given her a fake number, and even more foolish of her to hope he had. She slowly let out a long breath she didn’t know that she had been holding in, and her hands stopped trembling.

“It’s me.” She said nearly silently, her voice amazingly steady compared to the rest of her body, which was acting as if it had just run a marathon. Straining her ears, she thought she heard laughing in the background, though she might’ve imagined it.

Lily,” he breathed. “I wish I could talk to you right now, truly I do. There is something very important I need to tell you… but the person that it is about is here right now…” he trailed off. Always up front and honest with her before she even had to ask, that was one of the things that she loved about him. Her head was spinning; she didn’t know what to think. Knowing him, it had to be about one of the other marauders. When her confusion had settled somewhat, she took a deep breath and felt her body relax some.

“I thought that there was something… promise me you will call me tomorrow then?” she asked hopefully. She felt as if her heart stopped while she waited, trying desperately to be silent so that she could hear his long-awaited answer. She heard him breathe into the phone and everything got muffled for a moment. Faintly, she heard him say ”It’s no one, just be quiet, okay?”

“Lils? You still there?” he asked in his near silent, velvet voice. She nodded quickly, then realized that he couldn’t see her.


“I’ll call you tomorrow evening, if it’s safe, alright?” he whispered softly, somehow managing to soothe her with just his silky voice.

“What do you mean, ‘if its safe’?” she asked quickly, heart speeding up again. Dozens of ideas went through her head at once, the next so much worse than the one before it. Her breathing became erratic as her body went into full-blown panic mode.

“Don’t worry, Love. What I meant was, if it’s safe to talk freely. You know how things are over here. If they knew that I was talking to you… Plus, there’s something important that certain people can’t overhear, and I'm not going to take the risk of that happening. Okay?” he quietly explained, not knowing what was going through her head, but yet again calming her down.

“Alright,” she said, a little louder than she meant to; she heard a noise from the other room, and it sounded like she had woken someone up, though it could just have been her paranoia. She felt the panic set in again, and spoke much quicker and more quietly. “Call at midnight, not a minute sooner. I’ll make sure it’s safe on my end.”

“And if it’s not safe on my end?” he asked her hurriedly, knowing that their time was nearly up.

“I’ll wait ten minutes. After that, don’t call, I’ll assume you aren’t anyway.” She told him. She heard him whisper an agreement, and suddenly felt a pang of guilt. “This is my fault, isn’t it?” she asked sadly, hearing a sharp intake of breath from him in response.

“None of this is your fault.” He said harshly. “I don’t know what could possibly make you think that, but it’s not.”

How is it not my fault? It’s my fault we can’t use owls or talk during the day!” she told him, wanting so badly to yell at him, and knowing that she couldn’t made her want to even more.

“So what? This way is probably safer anyways! What do you think would happen if my dear old mother got to an owl from you before I did?” he hissed, still trying to be quiet. Lily heard someone walking, and, panicking, decided time was up.

“Someone’s coming, I have to go.” She breathed, wishing she were with him, not just on the phone, and wondering if there would ever be a time when they wouldn’t be sneaking about, and keeping their love a secret.

“Alright Love. Midnight?”

“Yes. I love you,” she said to him, hoping that this time he would say it back. She heard a deep sigh on his end, and knew in her heart that he wouldn’t say it back.

“I—“ he faltered. “I love you too, Lil, I really do.” He spoke so quietly and so softly that she could barely believe her ears, though her heart was doing triple-time.

“Goodbye,” she said slowly, hanging up the phone before he could respond, for underneath her pure happiness lay a new raw, irrational fear. ’He said it… That— that’s not right, he’s not supposed to say it back! There’s something wrong!’ she panicked, not knowing what to think, and almost every part of her wanting to pick up the phone and hit reial, or better yet, get her arse over there and see for herself what was going on.

Another part of her, the sane, rational part knew that someone was still awake, and she would need an alibi to be down here this time of night. Glancing at the iluminated clock on the dying microwave, she saw that it was only 11:30 PM. Damn… 25 hours until I can hear his voice again…” she thought to herself. She grabbed a glass of water and made her way back upstairs. But, to her dismay, she couldn’t shake off the storm of random thoughts that always came with her nighttime calls.

Collapsing onto her bed and grabbing the grey-and-white stuffed huskie he had gotten her for Christmas, she let the thoughts, and the tears, come freely, knowing that if she didn’t, she’d never get to sleep again. Not until five at least.

The last fully-conceived thought she remembered before drifting into unconciousness was “Is this even worth it?”


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Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

A review from ‘Teardrops’ said more dialogue… well that’s all this fic is!

Hope you liked it!

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