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local library and check out Harry Potter and the Sorcerer/Philosopher's
Stone, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Harry Potter and the
Prisoner of Azkaban, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, and Harry Potter
and the Order of the Phoenix. Go home and read. Then go to your local
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the Sorcerer's Stone and Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. After
reading the books and watching the movies, then you may turn your computer
on, come back to this site, and read an review (hint) my story. If you know
that I don't own Harry Potter, you may skip to the reading and reviewing.
All alone. He was all alone, again. He took a swig of his firewhiskey. He was on his second bottle, but most certainly not his last.
"Bloody hell," he swore. "Dammit Sirius, why did you have to leave me again?" He downed his whiskey. He had every intention of getting good and damn drunk. At least if he passed out, he wouldn't remember until morning.
He had thought that it had been bad the first time. James murdered by Voldemort, Peter supposedly murdered by Sirius, and Sirius sentenced to life in Azkaban for betraying his best friend and killing another. Remus had lost his only friends within twenty-four hours. He had thought that he would die. He had tried to die. But he had moved on. He had adjusted to the fact that he was once again alone in the world. His three friends were nothing more than pleasant school memories.
And then Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. Dumbledore had asked him to come and teach at Hogwarts. He had finally been allowed to see his best friend's son again. The muggles he had been sent to forbid him visiting.
And then, at the end of the school year, he had learned that he was not the only one left. The only one dead was James. Peter had been the betrayer, no a hero who had sought out Sirius and had been killed. And Sirius was innocent. He was no longer alone. And it was heaven. And it was too good to last.
Sirius had gone to rescue Harry from Voldemort's clutches. His cousin had cursed him; he had fallen through the veil, and he was gone. Again.
Remus refilled his glass. He swigged it down. He refilled it again. He was well on his way through a fourth bottle.
He was all alone, again. It had near about killed him the first time, he wasn't sure that he could stand it again. He downed his umpteenth glass of whiskey and threw it at the door.
All alone. He was all alone, again. He took a swig of his firewhiskey. He was on his second bottle, but most certainly not his last.
"Bloody hell," he swore. "Dammit Sirius, why did you have to leave me again?" He downed his whiskey. He had every intention of getting good and damn drunk. At least if he passed out, he wouldn't remember until morning.
He had thought that it had been bad the first time. James murdered by Voldemort, Peter supposedly murdered by Sirius, and Sirius sentenced to life in Azkaban for betraying his best friend and killing another. Remus had lost his only friends within twenty-four hours. He had thought that he would die. He had tried to die. But he had moved on. He had adjusted to the fact that he was once again alone in the world. His three friends were nothing more than pleasant school memories.
And then Sirius had escaped from Azkaban. Dumbledore had asked him to come and teach at Hogwarts. He had finally been allowed to see his best friend's son again. The muggles he had been sent to forbid him visiting.
And then, at the end of the school year, he had learned that he was not the only one left. The only one dead was James. Peter had been the betrayer, no a hero who had sought out Sirius and had been killed. And Sirius was innocent. He was no longer alone. And it was heaven. And it was too good to last.
Sirius had gone to rescue Harry from Voldemort's clutches. His cousin had cursed him; he had fallen through the veil, and he was gone. Again.
Remus refilled his glass. He swigged it down. He refilled it again. He was well on his way through a fourth bottle.
He was all alone, again. It had near about killed him the first time, he wasn't sure that he could stand it again. He downed his umpteenth glass of whiskey and threw it at the door.