Title: Tower Of Souls (1/?)
Summary: Harry is recovering from the events in OotP. When he gets to Hogwarts his life will be changed. For the best or the worst. SLASH!
Warning: This is SLASH ladies and gentlemen, or will be in the future. Also cutting, suicidal themes, OotP Spoilers, and there may be child abuse and worse in later chapters. This is not for the faint hearted.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is and never will be mine!! Any songs or poems in this fic are not mine. They just fit in.
Notes: I almost never plan out my stories so if the plot suddenly twists do not kill or maim me. The title may or may not have anything to do with the story. As I said I never plan these out and the name appealed to me.
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The dagger was exquisite, done intricately in silver and gold. Small emeralds and diamonds were delicately placed in seemingly random spots. A red glow surrounded the blade making it look demonic in the faint light of the fireplace. The sharp tip of the dagger's blade was stained with a crimson liquid. (A/N: Doesn't that sound ominous? Or weird)
Green eyes sparkled strangely in the slowly dulling fire of the common room fireplace. Pale hands glowed eerily as they slowly began to trace the arm which was already covered in small yet artistically cut scars barely noticeable.
A soft voice from the top of one of the staircases startled him out of his daze as he dropped his sleeve and placed the dagger underneath his thigh.
"Harry?" called a familiar sleep-ridden voice from the girl's dorms.
"Yes 'Mione?" Harry replied, feeling rather irritated at being interrupted.
"Get to bed. It's 2:41 in the morning. You need some sleep." she softly reprimanded him.
"Alright mother." he teased her.
After assuring her that he would go to bed soon, Hermione left to her bed to sleep. Harry however stayed up for a while after that.
Sighing softly he padded up to his dorm room. In his bed, not as comforting as one may think, he waited a while longer before his brain submitted to his body and soon he was fast asleep with dreams not entirely pleasant.
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Waking at dawn, Harry laid for a while in his bed just watching the myriad of colors across the sky. Pink, orange, yellow, purple and blue covered the clouds and rising sun.
The other boys were still snoring when he got up to take a quick shower and dress in some of the muggle clothes that Hermione had bought for him a few summers ago.
The shirt fit perfectly. It was cotton, long-sleeved and a light grayish color. He was grateful of the long sleeves; they covered his scars when he had to charm them again. The slacks were black and hid the scars on his legs.
After donning his school robes he went downstairs. The common room was cold and it was still a bit dark outside so he decided to go to the library.
His grades had gone up since his 6th year had begun. This had continued to his 7th year.
His grades were only rivaled by four people. Terry Boot of Ravenclaw, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini of Slytherin, and of course, Hermione. They were close to tying for the top spot, which had never been recorded in the history of Hogwarts.
Since all of his homework had been finished long ago, he decided to read a book for entertainment.
He was so engrossed in his reading he didn't notice Hermione until she coughed lightly.
"You alright there Harry?" she sounded slightly amused.
"Yeah.fine," he replied still reprimanding himself for not noticing her.
"Have you seen Ron lately?" Hermione spoke softly, as if raising her voice would destroy the calmness of early morning in the library.
Knowing that no one knew what had happened, he covered his emotions on the subject and instead replied with a steady no. Not too indifferent, but not too concerned.
The Golden Trio, as they were called (even if Harry hated it), had slowly drifted apart after the "incident" in the Department of Mysteries.
Inch by inch they had stopped talking to each other, still friends, but not the ones they used to be. Friends, that is, until That Day. Now it was only Hermione and Harry or Hermione and Ron, but no Harry and Ron.
Even his friendship with Hermione was weak and would easily break from the smallest thing.
Harry's only true friends, as cliché as it was, were inanimate objects. Like the dagger, or his books.
While everyone was laughing and growing up with joy, Harry was dying a slow death, not physically, but mentally and in his soul.
He was surrounding himself more and more with silence and small sounds. He would have forgotten what laughter sounded like if not for the faint sound of it on the grounds, in the castle and from Hermione.
The only ones who didn't change their attitudes about him were the Slytherins and Snape. It was nice not to have to see the pity in everyone's eyes everyday. It was nice not to be asked if he was alright every 10 minutes. It was nice to pretend nothing had ever happened.
He just wished everyone would forget him. To be a normal person. That would never happen though. He would always be too famous (or infamous) to be forgotten.
He would give everything to be forgotten for just a moment.
Too bad none of his wishes ever came true.
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This chapter was finished: October 13, 2003, 4:46 PM
Don't throw anything at me! I know it is bad, but just bear with me, okay? It isn't very long either, sorry about that.
Press that purple button down there and give me some advice *puppy face*
Summary: Harry is recovering from the events in OotP. When he gets to Hogwarts his life will be changed. For the best or the worst. SLASH!
Warning: This is SLASH ladies and gentlemen, or will be in the future. Also cutting, suicidal themes, OotP Spoilers, and there may be child abuse and worse in later chapters. This is not for the faint hearted.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter is and never will be mine!! Any songs or poems in this fic are not mine. They just fit in.
Notes: I almost never plan out my stories so if the plot suddenly twists do not kill or maim me. The title may or may not have anything to do with the story. As I said I never plan these out and the name appealed to me.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The dagger was exquisite, done intricately in silver and gold. Small emeralds and diamonds were delicately placed in seemingly random spots. A red glow surrounded the blade making it look demonic in the faint light of the fireplace. The sharp tip of the dagger's blade was stained with a crimson liquid. (A/N: Doesn't that sound ominous? Or weird)
Green eyes sparkled strangely in the slowly dulling fire of the common room fireplace. Pale hands glowed eerily as they slowly began to trace the arm which was already covered in small yet artistically cut scars barely noticeable.
A soft voice from the top of one of the staircases startled him out of his daze as he dropped his sleeve and placed the dagger underneath his thigh.
"Harry?" called a familiar sleep-ridden voice from the girl's dorms.
"Yes 'Mione?" Harry replied, feeling rather irritated at being interrupted.
"Get to bed. It's 2:41 in the morning. You need some sleep." she softly reprimanded him.
"Alright mother." he teased her.
After assuring her that he would go to bed soon, Hermione left to her bed to sleep. Harry however stayed up for a while after that.
Sighing softly he padded up to his dorm room. In his bed, not as comforting as one may think, he waited a while longer before his brain submitted to his body and soon he was fast asleep with dreams not entirely pleasant.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Waking at dawn, Harry laid for a while in his bed just watching the myriad of colors across the sky. Pink, orange, yellow, purple and blue covered the clouds and rising sun.
The other boys were still snoring when he got up to take a quick shower and dress in some of the muggle clothes that Hermione had bought for him a few summers ago.
The shirt fit perfectly. It was cotton, long-sleeved and a light grayish color. He was grateful of the long sleeves; they covered his scars when he had to charm them again. The slacks were black and hid the scars on his legs.
After donning his school robes he went downstairs. The common room was cold and it was still a bit dark outside so he decided to go to the library.
His grades had gone up since his 6th year had begun. This had continued to his 7th year.
His grades were only rivaled by four people. Terry Boot of Ravenclaw, Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini of Slytherin, and of course, Hermione. They were close to tying for the top spot, which had never been recorded in the history of Hogwarts.
Since all of his homework had been finished long ago, he decided to read a book for entertainment.
He was so engrossed in his reading he didn't notice Hermione until she coughed lightly.
"You alright there Harry?" she sounded slightly amused.
"Yeah.fine," he replied still reprimanding himself for not noticing her.
"Have you seen Ron lately?" Hermione spoke softly, as if raising her voice would destroy the calmness of early morning in the library.
Knowing that no one knew what had happened, he covered his emotions on the subject and instead replied with a steady no. Not too indifferent, but not too concerned.
The Golden Trio, as they were called (even if Harry hated it), had slowly drifted apart after the "incident" in the Department of Mysteries.
Inch by inch they had stopped talking to each other, still friends, but not the ones they used to be. Friends, that is, until That Day. Now it was only Hermione and Harry or Hermione and Ron, but no Harry and Ron.
Even his friendship with Hermione was weak and would easily break from the smallest thing.
Harry's only true friends, as cliché as it was, were inanimate objects. Like the dagger, or his books.
While everyone was laughing and growing up with joy, Harry was dying a slow death, not physically, but mentally and in his soul.
He was surrounding himself more and more with silence and small sounds. He would have forgotten what laughter sounded like if not for the faint sound of it on the grounds, in the castle and from Hermione.
The only ones who didn't change their attitudes about him were the Slytherins and Snape. It was nice not to have to see the pity in everyone's eyes everyday. It was nice not to be asked if he was alright every 10 minutes. It was nice to pretend nothing had ever happened.
He just wished everyone would forget him. To be a normal person. That would never happen though. He would always be too famous (or infamous) to be forgotten.
He would give everything to be forgotten for just a moment.
Too bad none of his wishes ever came true.
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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This chapter was finished: October 13, 2003, 4:46 PM
Don't throw anything at me! I know it is bad, but just bear with me, okay? It isn't very long either, sorry about that.
Press that purple button down there and give me some advice *puppy face*