Dumbledore stared at the spinning globe on his dark, mahogany table. It was moving faster and faster with every turn. The gem on the top was glowing a deep crimson red. The great, old man smiled. "Ah, how wonderful to be young and in love!" he sighed to himself, "I wonder who's caught his fancy."
Taking large, bright, laughing strides toward a small cabinet, Dumbledore chuckled to himself, "Harry really falls in and out of love quickly."
The smiling wizard threw open the cabinet and took out a small, wooden box. He removed the lid, placing it on the table, beside the spinning top. Inside the box, seated on a bed of red velvet, laid a small, delicate, silver mirror. Inside the mirror, people were moving about. These people were detailed so finely it looked as though you were but inches away from their faces. The drops of sweat on a boy's face, or a sunburn on a girl's shoulder, every detail was perfect and precise. Dumbldore's eyes searched the mirror for a certain face. Ah, there it was! A boy's head had just come into view. The boy's coal black hair was untidy and rumpled, his eyes were a sharp, laughing green, but the one characteristic that really made this boy stand out was the lightning scar that paraded down from the boy's forehead to the beginnings of his nose. At the moment this boy (we all know who I'm talking about by now, right?) was speaking with a tall, rather elegant looking, girl. She must have been a year older than him, but she seemed at ease. The boy, Harry, Dumbledore had said, looked quite the opposite. He was stumbling with his words and looking at his feet. Even his laughing green eyes looked rather nervous. Finally the two parted. You could tell, though you could hear nothing, that the boy was relieved. He wiped his brow and laughed a bit with a boy with flaming red hair. This boy's face was splashed with freckles, and his bright orange-red hair stood out in the crowded corridor. The two were a perfect contrast in looks, but they seemed to be the best of friends, and very alike in tastes and manners. Now Dumbledore put down the mirror. "So," he muttered under his breath, "Harry's fallen for Cho Chang. I suppose the two could get along nicely, though I didn't think Cho was Harry's type."
The old man placed the mirror back into its box with careful, gentle hands. He laid the top on with great care and put the small box back into the cabinet. Dumbledore then returned to the table with the top on it. He carefully put a glass covering over the top, leaving it to twirl freely, but not letting the outside world disturb its tranquil spinning.
Suddenly, CRASH! BANG! BOOM! ZIP! THUD! UHHHHH! WHOOSH! Those were the sounds that went with the following scene: The great window that looked out over Hogwart's massive grounds suddenly shattered, sending a million tiny particles of glass into Dumbledore's study (CRASH). The BANG was a blow given to Dumbledore from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Yes, Voldemort himself had entered Dumbledore's study. But not alone, never alone. Voldemort had come with none other than Wormtail, the rat who had killed Harry's mother and Father. BOOM was the force of the blow shaking the room and thus, knocking over Dumbledore's table. This happened to be the table on which the top had been spinning. The glass container that held the top fell to the floor. The top continued spinning, but it had been horribly shaken. The glass held, but a terrible crooked crack ran through it. ZIP was the sound of a small, sharp gem being flung by a slingshot at Fawkes, the phoenix. Fawkes had become shocked and angry at seeing Voldemort and Wormtail in her master and companion's private study. She had flown into a rage, but this gem struck her in the forehead and she fell to the floor, not because of the force of the attack, but because the gem's magic had hit her full force, enhancing the blow as well as using its sleeping magic on the phoenix. THUD was the sound of Fawkes falling to the floor and knocking against glass case. This caused the crack to continue down the case. Now it ran nearly all the way to the floor. UUUUUUH was the sound Wormtail uttered as he dragged Dumbledore and Fawkes toward the now open window. WHOOSH was the sound of Voldemort flying out the window, carrying Fawkes and Dumbledore as though they were as light as a cloud.
"How can this be?" you may think to yourself. "Voldemort isn't strong enough to attack Dumbledore. He was always afraid of Dumbledore!" Ah, my friend, times have changed. When Voldemort came back to life his powers were greatly enhanced. With such a power, he fears no one, not even Dumbledore!
As Voldemort left Dumbledore's study with his two prisoners, Wormtail sat down on the overturned table. He pulled a flask from his pocket. Wormtail opened the flask and smiled down at whatever lay within. He then unclenched his left hand, the one Voldemort had given him, to reveal several silvery-white hairs. One by one, Wormtail dropped the hairs in. The potion hissed and bubbled; turning from a dark, muddy brown, to a light pinkish periwinkle. Wormtail shuddered as he looked down at the pink potion, as if he was about to drink slime and bugs. Then, with a small gulp, Wormtail swallowed down the potion. Immediately, changes in his appearance became clear. His small, beady, tired eyes were replaced with sparkling blue ones. His weary, grayish, hairy body was wrapped with old, wrinkled, soft, pale skin. He shot up several feet, and his hair started to grow, and grow, and grow! Soon his hair was halfway down his back, and now it was silver! Wormtail wriggled uncomfortably. He felt strangely insecure in this unknown body, and besides his robes were much too small for him. He walked carefully, as if he had an awful sunburn, over to Dumbledore's dresser. He looked around the old, rosewood wardrobe. "Where would a wizard keep his robes?"
He opened a small cabinet in the right hand side of the wardrobe. Instead of the robes he had been hoping for, Wormtail saw a box. With the curiosity of a man who has never seen the stars, Wormtail pulled the box of the shelf, and, rather sneakily, took a peek inside. He gasped as he saw the very boy his master was always raving about. "Harry Potter?" he murmured to himself.
Wormtail glanced around to make sure nobody was in the office, then he looked closer at the picture in the mirror. Yes, he was sure of it, now. That was not his own reflection, but Harry Potter's! Wormtail was shocked and amazed. Then an idea crossed his foolish mind. Surely he would be rewarded if he brought this to his master! Wormtail hastily stuffed the mirror in his pocket, and rummaged in the wardrobe some more. Finally he found some suitable robes. Turning to right the overturned table, Wormtail promptly tripped over the glass container, shattering it completely...
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"
shrieked Harry.
He had fallen out of his chair. He was twitching and screaming on the floor. His arm and cheek and ankle were bleeding, and the look on his face was that of perfect agony. The entire Charms class was stunned. Cho Chang, (Gryffindor was having Charms with the Ravenclaws that day.) who had been reciting the ingredients for a Levitation Spell, immediately dropped her quill and fell back into her seat. She looked quite amazed, as did the entire class. Harry continued screaming and twitching. Prof. Flitwick, moving quickly, darted in between the astonished students to Harry's side. He slipped his arm over Harry's mouth. He muttered an incantation and Harry stopped screaming. Looking carefully at Harry's cuts he whispered comforting words in Harry's ear. The class looked on respectfully and silently. They were sure what had just happened to Harry was serious. Prof. Flitwick muttered something more and Harry started to float out of the room and up the stairs. "See that he gets to the Hospital Wing, Cho," said the professor quietly.
Cho left her seat with a pale face. She followed the floating body out of the room and up the stares. Prof. Flitwick then continued the class as though nothing had happened.
Following a floating body up a flight of squeaky old stairs in the middle of the afternoon is not something that is done everyday. It is not something that one does for amusement either. However, when the need arises someone must do the deed, so why not Cho? Besides, I hope you have not forgotten that this particular body has taken a liking to this particular girl. Hmmm... This could be interesting. THUMP! Suddenly Harry's floating body dropped out of the air and on the stairs. "Ohh..."
Cho hurried to Harry's side. "Are you all right?"
Harry looked around and blinked. Then he noticed the face. His eyes bulged as he recognized it as his crush. Quickly he hid his expression behind a mask of, "Yes... Fine. Just a bit muddled."
Cho nodded in relief. She had no idea what she would have done if Harry wasn't 'fine and just a bit muddled'. They continued the flight to the hospital wing in silence...
End of Chapter One
Taking large, bright, laughing strides toward a small cabinet, Dumbledore chuckled to himself, "Harry really falls in and out of love quickly."
The smiling wizard threw open the cabinet and took out a small, wooden box. He removed the lid, placing it on the table, beside the spinning top. Inside the box, seated on a bed of red velvet, laid a small, delicate, silver mirror. Inside the mirror, people were moving about. These people were detailed so finely it looked as though you were but inches away from their faces. The drops of sweat on a boy's face, or a sunburn on a girl's shoulder, every detail was perfect and precise. Dumbldore's eyes searched the mirror for a certain face. Ah, there it was! A boy's head had just come into view. The boy's coal black hair was untidy and rumpled, his eyes were a sharp, laughing green, but the one characteristic that really made this boy stand out was the lightning scar that paraded down from the boy's forehead to the beginnings of his nose. At the moment this boy (we all know who I'm talking about by now, right?) was speaking with a tall, rather elegant looking, girl. She must have been a year older than him, but she seemed at ease. The boy, Harry, Dumbledore had said, looked quite the opposite. He was stumbling with his words and looking at his feet. Even his laughing green eyes looked rather nervous. Finally the two parted. You could tell, though you could hear nothing, that the boy was relieved. He wiped his brow and laughed a bit with a boy with flaming red hair. This boy's face was splashed with freckles, and his bright orange-red hair stood out in the crowded corridor. The two were a perfect contrast in looks, but they seemed to be the best of friends, and very alike in tastes and manners. Now Dumbledore put down the mirror. "So," he muttered under his breath, "Harry's fallen for Cho Chang. I suppose the two could get along nicely, though I didn't think Cho was Harry's type."
The old man placed the mirror back into its box with careful, gentle hands. He laid the top on with great care and put the small box back into the cabinet. Dumbledore then returned to the table with the top on it. He carefully put a glass covering over the top, leaving it to twirl freely, but not letting the outside world disturb its tranquil spinning.
Suddenly, CRASH! BANG! BOOM! ZIP! THUD! UHHHHH! WHOOSH! Those were the sounds that went with the following scene: The great window that looked out over Hogwart's massive grounds suddenly shattered, sending a million tiny particles of glass into Dumbledore's study (CRASH). The BANG was a blow given to Dumbledore from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Yes, Voldemort himself had entered Dumbledore's study. But not alone, never alone. Voldemort had come with none other than Wormtail, the rat who had killed Harry's mother and Father. BOOM was the force of the blow shaking the room and thus, knocking over Dumbledore's table. This happened to be the table on which the top had been spinning. The glass container that held the top fell to the floor. The top continued spinning, but it had been horribly shaken. The glass held, but a terrible crooked crack ran through it. ZIP was the sound of a small, sharp gem being flung by a slingshot at Fawkes, the phoenix. Fawkes had become shocked and angry at seeing Voldemort and Wormtail in her master and companion's private study. She had flown into a rage, but this gem struck her in the forehead and she fell to the floor, not because of the force of the attack, but because the gem's magic had hit her full force, enhancing the blow as well as using its sleeping magic on the phoenix. THUD was the sound of Fawkes falling to the floor and knocking against glass case. This caused the crack to continue down the case. Now it ran nearly all the way to the floor. UUUUUUH was the sound Wormtail uttered as he dragged Dumbledore and Fawkes toward the now open window. WHOOSH was the sound of Voldemort flying out the window, carrying Fawkes and Dumbledore as though they were as light as a cloud.
"How can this be?" you may think to yourself. "Voldemort isn't strong enough to attack Dumbledore. He was always afraid of Dumbledore!" Ah, my friend, times have changed. When Voldemort came back to life his powers were greatly enhanced. With such a power, he fears no one, not even Dumbledore!
As Voldemort left Dumbledore's study with his two prisoners, Wormtail sat down on the overturned table. He pulled a flask from his pocket. Wormtail opened the flask and smiled down at whatever lay within. He then unclenched his left hand, the one Voldemort had given him, to reveal several silvery-white hairs. One by one, Wormtail dropped the hairs in. The potion hissed and bubbled; turning from a dark, muddy brown, to a light pinkish periwinkle. Wormtail shuddered as he looked down at the pink potion, as if he was about to drink slime and bugs. Then, with a small gulp, Wormtail swallowed down the potion. Immediately, changes in his appearance became clear. His small, beady, tired eyes were replaced with sparkling blue ones. His weary, grayish, hairy body was wrapped with old, wrinkled, soft, pale skin. He shot up several feet, and his hair started to grow, and grow, and grow! Soon his hair was halfway down his back, and now it was silver! Wormtail wriggled uncomfortably. He felt strangely insecure in this unknown body, and besides his robes were much too small for him. He walked carefully, as if he had an awful sunburn, over to Dumbledore's dresser. He looked around the old, rosewood wardrobe. "Where would a wizard keep his robes?"
He opened a small cabinet in the right hand side of the wardrobe. Instead of the robes he had been hoping for, Wormtail saw a box. With the curiosity of a man who has never seen the stars, Wormtail pulled the box of the shelf, and, rather sneakily, took a peek inside. He gasped as he saw the very boy his master was always raving about. "Harry Potter?" he murmured to himself.
Wormtail glanced around to make sure nobody was in the office, then he looked closer at the picture in the mirror. Yes, he was sure of it, now. That was not his own reflection, but Harry Potter's! Wormtail was shocked and amazed. Then an idea crossed his foolish mind. Surely he would be rewarded if he brought this to his master! Wormtail hastily stuffed the mirror in his pocket, and rummaged in the wardrobe some more. Finally he found some suitable robes. Turning to right the overturned table, Wormtail promptly tripped over the glass container, shattering it completely...
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"
shrieked Harry.
He had fallen out of his chair. He was twitching and screaming on the floor. His arm and cheek and ankle were bleeding, and the look on his face was that of perfect agony. The entire Charms class was stunned. Cho Chang, (Gryffindor was having Charms with the Ravenclaws that day.) who had been reciting the ingredients for a Levitation Spell, immediately dropped her quill and fell back into her seat. She looked quite amazed, as did the entire class. Harry continued screaming and twitching. Prof. Flitwick, moving quickly, darted in between the astonished students to Harry's side. He slipped his arm over Harry's mouth. He muttered an incantation and Harry stopped screaming. Looking carefully at Harry's cuts he whispered comforting words in Harry's ear. The class looked on respectfully and silently. They were sure what had just happened to Harry was serious. Prof. Flitwick muttered something more and Harry started to float out of the room and up the stairs. "See that he gets to the Hospital Wing, Cho," said the professor quietly.
Cho left her seat with a pale face. She followed the floating body out of the room and up the stares. Prof. Flitwick then continued the class as though nothing had happened.
Following a floating body up a flight of squeaky old stairs in the middle of the afternoon is not something that is done everyday. It is not something that one does for amusement either. However, when the need arises someone must do the deed, so why not Cho? Besides, I hope you have not forgotten that this particular body has taken a liking to this particular girl. Hmmm... This could be interesting. THUMP! Suddenly Harry's floating body dropped out of the air and on the stairs. "Ohh..."
Cho hurried to Harry's side. "Are you all right?"
Harry looked around and blinked. Then he noticed the face. His eyes bulged as he recognized it as his crush. Quickly he hid his expression behind a mask of, "Yes... Fine. Just a bit muddled."
Cho nodded in relief. She had no idea what she would have done if Harry wasn't 'fine and just a bit muddled'. They continued the flight to the hospital wing in silence...
End of Chapter One