Disclaimer: No I don't own Harry Potter.the one and only J.K Rowling does,
though if I did I would DEFINITELY have not made Sirius die. Yes, I am in
denial.
A tall, thin boy with jet-black messy hair scrambled through the portrait hole looking thoroughly disgruntled. Ron and Hermione, who had been playing a game of Gobstones, looked up.
"Sup Harry?" asked Ron eyeing the boy's robes. They looked dishevelled and had quite a few rips in them.
"Snape, that's what!" cried Harry furiously. He flung his school bag moodily to the floor, causing it to split. Quills flew through the air like arrows; rolls of parchment ricocheted off the walls and bottles of ink smashed, staining the scarlet carpet a dramatic shade of black.
"Well someone's had a good day!" said Hermione her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Here Harry let me help you with that." She pulled out her wand and muttered a curse. The contents of the ripped bag were cleared up and the mess vanished.
"Thanks 'Mione," said Harry. He turned around and saw the questioning looks of his two best friends. "Oh alright," he cried throwing his hands up in mock defeat, "I'll tell you."
He drew up a chair and recounted the afternoon's events to Hermione and Ron. It turned out that Snape had given Harry detention for 'accidently' spilling a whole cauldron of armadillo bile all over the dungeon floor.
"It's not fair," fumed Harry, "he didn't even bat an eyelid when Malfoy dropped all those vials of potion on the floor. Oh, one day I'm going to get him for this, trust me. I'm going to grab hold of his neck and-" He made a violent gesture in the air.
Ron and Hermione both grinned. It was a well-known fact that it was the greatest goal of many to cause some physical harm to Professor Snape, potions master, and a particular caretaker's cat. Hermione gazed at her watch absent-mindedly and Ron scratched Crookshanks' ears affectionately. It was a while before anyone talked.
"It's so cool how some people can get away with some much stuff," declared Harry, "I mean look at my Dad he got away with heaps of things in his day and so did Remus and Sirius." His smile flickered at the last word and his face went slack. There was an awkward silence where Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Harry got up and stood by the fire, his face expressionless but his eyes full of pain.
"Sometimes I forget he's gone," whispered Harry softly still gazing into the fire. "Sometimes I feel as if he's with me, that I can hear his bark- like laugh and.and-. He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. "Oh Harry," soothed Hermione her eyes shining with tears, "he is here with us. Maybe not in physical form, but we can all feel his presence, can't we Ron?" She looked over to Ron for support, who nodded silently.
"You know," Harry continued still staring at the dancing flames, "it was my fault he died. I shouldn't have acted like some big hero and gone gallivanting off to the Department of Mysteries. I should have listened to you Mione, and you Ron. Maybe if I had he'd still be alive."
There was a very pregnant pause again but Hermione and Ron saved of replying from a scraping sound from the window.
"It's Hedwig!" cried Ron, jumping up from his seat to open the window. Harry tore his eyes away from the fire confused. No one but Hagrid wrote to him these days, but he used the school owls. Who could it be? Harry tore open the letter feverishly and a single piece of parchment fell out.
Dear Harry,
I must speak to you alone. Bring Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger if you must but do not let anybody else know that you plan to meet me. Cover yourselves in your invisibility cloak and meet me in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Room at 9:00 tonight. Please be punctual.
Yours Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore.
Ok guys this is my first HP fic so no flames! Okies r/r!
A tall, thin boy with jet-black messy hair scrambled through the portrait hole looking thoroughly disgruntled. Ron and Hermione, who had been playing a game of Gobstones, looked up.
"Sup Harry?" asked Ron eyeing the boy's robes. They looked dishevelled and had quite a few rips in them.
"Snape, that's what!" cried Harry furiously. He flung his school bag moodily to the floor, causing it to split. Quills flew through the air like arrows; rolls of parchment ricocheted off the walls and bottles of ink smashed, staining the scarlet carpet a dramatic shade of black.
"Well someone's had a good day!" said Hermione her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Here Harry let me help you with that." She pulled out her wand and muttered a curse. The contents of the ripped bag were cleared up and the mess vanished.
"Thanks 'Mione," said Harry. He turned around and saw the questioning looks of his two best friends. "Oh alright," he cried throwing his hands up in mock defeat, "I'll tell you."
He drew up a chair and recounted the afternoon's events to Hermione and Ron. It turned out that Snape had given Harry detention for 'accidently' spilling a whole cauldron of armadillo bile all over the dungeon floor.
"It's not fair," fumed Harry, "he didn't even bat an eyelid when Malfoy dropped all those vials of potion on the floor. Oh, one day I'm going to get him for this, trust me. I'm going to grab hold of his neck and-" He made a violent gesture in the air.
Ron and Hermione both grinned. It was a well-known fact that it was the greatest goal of many to cause some physical harm to Professor Snape, potions master, and a particular caretaker's cat. Hermione gazed at her watch absent-mindedly and Ron scratched Crookshanks' ears affectionately. It was a while before anyone talked.
"It's so cool how some people can get away with some much stuff," declared Harry, "I mean look at my Dad he got away with heaps of things in his day and so did Remus and Sirius." His smile flickered at the last word and his face went slack. There was an awkward silence where Ron and Hermione exchanged glances. Harry got up and stood by the fire, his face expressionless but his eyes full of pain.
"Sometimes I forget he's gone," whispered Harry softly still gazing into the fire. "Sometimes I feel as if he's with me, that I can hear his bark- like laugh and.and-. He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. "Oh Harry," soothed Hermione her eyes shining with tears, "he is here with us. Maybe not in physical form, but we can all feel his presence, can't we Ron?" She looked over to Ron for support, who nodded silently.
"You know," Harry continued still staring at the dancing flames, "it was my fault he died. I shouldn't have acted like some big hero and gone gallivanting off to the Department of Mysteries. I should have listened to you Mione, and you Ron. Maybe if I had he'd still be alive."
There was a very pregnant pause again but Hermione and Ron saved of replying from a scraping sound from the window.
"It's Hedwig!" cried Ron, jumping up from his seat to open the window. Harry tore his eyes away from the fire confused. No one but Hagrid wrote to him these days, but he used the school owls. Who could it be? Harry tore open the letter feverishly and a single piece of parchment fell out.
Dear Harry,
I must speak to you alone. Bring Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger if you must but do not let anybody else know that you plan to meet me. Cover yourselves in your invisibility cloak and meet me in the Defence Against the Dark Arts Room at 9:00 tonight. Please be punctual.
Yours Sincerely, Albus Dumbledore.
Ok guys this is my first HP fic so no flames! Okies r/r!