Ok, this story will include bits and pieces from other peoples stories, and I will give them the credit that is due at the end.
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Spells can be a tricky thing, a simple incantation said wrong can kill you, that our have you shooting bubbles out of your nose all day. Some spells do good, some do evil, some do the unimaginable. I'm am concerned the most with the latter of the three, the unimaginable. A summoning spell gone awry open my eyes more than I ever thought a spell could.
I still remember how scared Sirius looked when instead of his pillow flying to him, his wand emitted a bright light that hit me squarely on the head. That's all I remember, really, before it all went black. I thought I was going to die, I was positive that the last sight I'd ever see was my friends shocked face. But it wasn't.
When I first blacked out, everything was, well, black, but then a horrific scene played out before me. It was me, but older. Lily was there as well, cradling a baby, then placing him in a crib. I hear d something, a bang, and went downstairs to investigate, ordering Lily to stay upstairs with Harry, who I had figured out was my baby Harry, mine and Lily's.
She looked scared then, not scared like Sirius was when he sent the spell plummeting towards me, but a true terror washed it's self across her face, and she nodded, stroking sweet Harry's face. I walked through several hallways, then down lavish stairs, only to be met with death eaters, several of them. They looked almost comical, all standing there with their leering masks and billowing robes. I screamed something at them, but I can't remember what. It had been rushed, and they all just laughed. And then there was only green light. I do not know what happened to Lily, or Harry, because it went black again, now all I could hear was "Take me instead" echoing through my head.
And then there was another scene, like I had gotten up to go to the bathroom during a film and missed something. There was Harry again, so he lived! He was small, and he had my messy black hair. When he looked in my direction I saw that he had inherited his mother's green eyes, but they were hidden behind thick glasses. He was walking through Diagon Alley, panting with the effort to keep up with Hagrid, the groundskeeper at Hogwarts. He seemed to be questioning Hagrid about everything he saw, taking in the Alley with a shocked face. It occurred tome that this was his first time there.
It went black again, and I was at Hogwarts, and the room was full of small, frightened looking first years. Ah, yes, the sorting. He quickly spotted Harry standing next to a gangly read-head. Good, he was friends with a Weasley, they were a good family, they would take care of him.
A blonde boy said something, and stalked over. He offered his hand and James distinctly heard, "You don't want to be making friends with the wrong sort, I can help you there."
And then nearly cheered aloud when Harry coolly replied, "I think I tell the wrong sort for myself, thanks."
Time seemed to speed forward a slightly until they were doing the actual sorting, Harry was looking around nervously, and then he was slowly walking towards the front of the school, placing the large hat on his head. A few minutes passed, and then "GRYFFINDOR" rang out, and Harry, smiling happily, took him place at the table.
Another few seconds of darkness, and then Harry was on a broom, speeding towards the other end of the pitch, and when I turned I saw a golden glint. There was a few seconds, then cheering filled the pitch, and Harry landed with his arm raised in triumph. A few more scenes like that flashed before his eyes, and then the now familiar darkness enveloped him.
He was sitting in a classroom, one he recognised as being the classroom he had formally been in. Now, though, it seemed to be a DADA class room, judging by the books and odd creatures and such that served as decoration.
"Now, I've tried to make these projects flexible to allow you to use your own inventiveness - a great part of being a successful Auror requires quick and adaptable thinking. It also requires creativity-" A voice said from the front of the room, and I was shocked to see it was Remus, albeit a rather old and worn out looking Remus.
"I plan to make a diorama," Said a pale haired youth who was sitting next to Harry solemnly. I realized it was the same one who had offered Harry help making friends with the "right sort" of people. I also noticed he was in Slytherin.
"No," said Remus patiently, "not that kind of creativity." Good on him, I thought, you tell that Slytherin.
"But it'll be an evil diorama. And then Harry can destroy it." He smirked, and Harry gave a snort of laughter.
While puzzling over what had seemed like a friendship between a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, I hadn't noticed that we had changed scenes again. Now I seemed to be in some alley, a really grubby one. Harry was pinned to a wall by the same boy that had proclaimed he would make an evil diorama. I couldn't quite hear what they were saying, so I walked closer, so close, in fact, that I could have licked one of their ears had the urge to do so overcome me. Thankfully it did not.
"Shut up," interrupted Draco pleasantly, his grip tightening on Harry's shirt "Scared, Potter?" I was sure he was going to hit him, positive, Apparently Harry thought so as well.
"Hit me," Harry said. "If you want to hit me, hit me. If it'll make you feel better --" All I could do was say "huh?". A Gryffindor offering to be hit by a Slytherin, just so said Slytherin would feel better?
"I feel fine," Draco said. He looked down at his hand, where it rested against Harry's chest. "You always have to make such a big deal out of everything," This didn't sound good, what was he going to do if not hit him? The answer seemed that he planned on kissing him, which he did rather thoroughly, until he stepped back, and said:
"Well, all right, If you don't want to play."
"Play?!" Harry's voice scraped out of his throat. "What the hell are you playing at?" Good question.
"So you don't want me to kiss you. What do you want?" Draco shoved a wet lock of hair behind his ear. "Help me out here. I'm creative, but nobody's that creative."
"W-what?" Harry struggled for words, "You're not Draco," he said at last.
Well, that was one hell of a blow to me. I forgot that I was probably going to witness something else until I heard "Damn that shoddy gypsy workmanship" come from Harry, who I realized with a jolt was standing next to that, that boy. And some guy with what appeared to be dark marks tattooed along his hollow looking cheek bones. As in routine, the image of my son in obvious mortal peril faded away, and I cringed at what else I might see.
This image, much to my disappoint, had "Draco" in it. He was sitting on one of the beds in the Gryffindor Dorms, with the Weasley I had seen before, and Harry. There was a knock at the door and Draco called out, "You can't come in, we're naked".
There was a pause then, "All of you?" a very feminine voice called out from the other side of the door.
"Yes!" Draco positively howled. Apparently the girl had decided that he was lying, which he was, and came in anyways. She said something, but it was lost as time sped up a bit, like it had during the sorting. There was another knock at the door, and once again Draco threw his head back and actually screeched, "Don't come in! I swear, we're all naked this time!" There was a slight thump, then the red-haired one (who I had yet to learn the name of) got up and opened the door, staring at something near his feet. "I think, he said, "You killed Seamus."
It was all dark as usual, but when the light came back on, it was different. Harry seemed, younger, like someone had pressed rewind. He was sitting in some room with Red (sounded very feminine, oh well, until I knew his name) and the bushy haired girl. They were all slouching in large puffy looking chairs, looking quite relaxed, not saying anything. Another girl walked in, throwing in the odd dance-step.
"It's a big big house, With lots and lots a room; A big big table, With lots and lots of food; A big big yard, Where we can play football; A big big house, Its my fathers house" She sang to herself before flopping onto the same chair that Red was sitting on. He didn't seem to mind that much that they were now entangled very uncomfortably, instead everyone just continued to stair moodily off into the air.
Before anything remotely interesting happened, though, the scene dissolved and faces swam in and out of his view.
"I think he;s coming round!"
"Thank God, I thought I'd killed him!" Sirius. Remus.
"Did someone say James' was coming round?" Peter. Bless them, I was alive! I ahd to get something major out of the way.
"Where's Evans?" Blank faces greeted this. "Where is Evans, I need to know so I can find her so I can ask her out." Mass pandemonium ensued.
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I know, crappy ending, and it's a one-shot. Ok, here's were I got stuff from…(call it a really big disclaimer)
Alright, the beginning scenario and all the characters minus one (I'll get to it) belong to JK.
The DADA scene, The alley scene and the Shoddy Gypsy workmanship belong to the ever lovely Cassandra Claire (DS, DV, DS).
Killing Seamus is from "Draco Malfoy, the amazing Bouncing…Rat?" by Maya.
The last scene is purely my imagination (minus the fanfic thing). We can assume that the girl was either Shayley or Ailleah (read my "overly used plot line with a twist") and the song is called big house, and it's by Audio Adrenaline.
Lastly, please review, because reviews make me feel happy and special. And don't you want me to feel happy and Special?
