Disclaimer- I'm not JK Rowlings. If I was JK Rowlings I'd be a much better writer, much richer, not to mention much younger. (Oops. I hope I'm not younger than her and still in JR high. OLDER is what I meant.)
It's about life after Voldemort defeated Harry. Rather than letting me tell you the whole plot (I don't even know what it is yet) I suggest you read it:
CHAPTER ONE
~
The Dark Mark
Alyn knew something was wrong before his family's home came in sight. His mother had always told him that he had a sixth sense through magic. He would know when someone wanted to be friendly, and when someone wanted to do him harm. He'd always been an excellent Quidditch player- he seemed to know where the balls would go. He'd always thought his mother was simply superstitious, telling her that he was just a good judge of character, and blaming his skill on the Quidditch field as just regular skill.
But as he flew over the forest that surrounded his home, the feeling of dread became stronger. Deny it all he wanted, but something was wrong. Many things were wrong, since Voldemort had taken over, but he had never felt like this. He flew over a town, still trying to convince himself that the fire trucks and ambulances heading down the road weren't going toward his house.
But they were. He tried to block out the scream of the sirens as he accelerated his broom almost unconsciously, flying over the hill that had shielded his view of his house.
Then he saw it- a huge emerald light shaped in the form of a skull. The Dark Mark. Death Eaters had been there.
He landed in the fringe of the forest under an old Oak. The house was on fire. As he stood there, watching, the first fire truck came up the driveway, followed by an ambulance, and then another fire truck.
He hurriedly threw his broom behind a bush and pulled his robe over his head, showing the muggle clothes he always wore underneath them. Then he walked out into the chaos, hoping against hope someone would tell him that his family had survived. Survived Voldemort. It was impossible.
"What are you doing, kid!" yelled a firefighter as he ran past. "Get out of here!" Alyn just kept walking. He had to know about his family. If there was any hope of them surviving.
A firfighter ran past. There was something familiar about him. He realized who it was almost immediately. The amazing Harry Potter. A fairy tale reduced to fighting house fires since he had failed in his fight against Lord Voldemort.
"Harry!" Alyn screamed, as the familiar firefighter ran past. The old man hesitated, hearing his name, then turned to look back at Alyn. When he saw him, his expression turned to one of pity. "I'm sorry, Alyn." He said, pushing his gray-streaked hair off his forehead, exposing a lightening bolt scar. "It was Voldemort. You know what's happened."
Just then three firefighter came out of the house, bearing the bodies of his parents and his brother. They took them over to the ambulance, where, after examining them, the doctor shook his head in belief. "All of them are dead," he pronounced, "but the fire- it never even touched them."
Alyn ran over to his broom. He didn't want to hear about it. He didn't want to think, about it, or anything else. He could feel the pitying eyes of Harry Potter on his back as he flew off into the cool night air.
There. Hope you liked it. I'll write more someday. Review it, Please! I know, it's a bit depressing. Oh Well. REVIEW! Thanks.
It's about life after Voldemort defeated Harry. Rather than letting me tell you the whole plot (I don't even know what it is yet) I suggest you read it:
CHAPTER ONE
~
The Dark Mark
Alyn knew something was wrong before his family's home came in sight. His mother had always told him that he had a sixth sense through magic. He would know when someone wanted to be friendly, and when someone wanted to do him harm. He'd always been an excellent Quidditch player- he seemed to know where the balls would go. He'd always thought his mother was simply superstitious, telling her that he was just a good judge of character, and blaming his skill on the Quidditch field as just regular skill.
But as he flew over the forest that surrounded his home, the feeling of dread became stronger. Deny it all he wanted, but something was wrong. Many things were wrong, since Voldemort had taken over, but he had never felt like this. He flew over a town, still trying to convince himself that the fire trucks and ambulances heading down the road weren't going toward his house.
But they were. He tried to block out the scream of the sirens as he accelerated his broom almost unconsciously, flying over the hill that had shielded his view of his house.
Then he saw it- a huge emerald light shaped in the form of a skull. The Dark Mark. Death Eaters had been there.
He landed in the fringe of the forest under an old Oak. The house was on fire. As he stood there, watching, the first fire truck came up the driveway, followed by an ambulance, and then another fire truck.
He hurriedly threw his broom behind a bush and pulled his robe over his head, showing the muggle clothes he always wore underneath them. Then he walked out into the chaos, hoping against hope someone would tell him that his family had survived. Survived Voldemort. It was impossible.
"What are you doing, kid!" yelled a firefighter as he ran past. "Get out of here!" Alyn just kept walking. He had to know about his family. If there was any hope of them surviving.
A firfighter ran past. There was something familiar about him. He realized who it was almost immediately. The amazing Harry Potter. A fairy tale reduced to fighting house fires since he had failed in his fight against Lord Voldemort.
"Harry!" Alyn screamed, as the familiar firefighter ran past. The old man hesitated, hearing his name, then turned to look back at Alyn. When he saw him, his expression turned to one of pity. "I'm sorry, Alyn." He said, pushing his gray-streaked hair off his forehead, exposing a lightening bolt scar. "It was Voldemort. You know what's happened."
Just then three firefighter came out of the house, bearing the bodies of his parents and his brother. They took them over to the ambulance, where, after examining them, the doctor shook his head in belief. "All of them are dead," he pronounced, "but the fire- it never even touched them."
Alyn ran over to his broom. He didn't want to hear about it. He didn't want to think, about it, or anything else. He could feel the pitying eyes of Harry Potter on his back as he flew off into the cool night air.
There. Hope you liked it. I'll write more someday. Review it, Please! I know, it's a bit depressing. Oh Well. REVIEW! Thanks.
