Unfogging the Future - Chapter 1
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's.
A/N: Whole different story from SST. Still H/D, though. ;-)
Phemonoe was one of the daughters of Apollo and, legend has it, the first Oracle of Delphi.
===========
The Window of Phemonoe was a powerful charm for answering your questions about the future, or so the book said. Harry had mixed the chamomile potion, and brought the bowl of water, vial of potion, and dagger to the lake. The full moon shone overhead as he drank half of the bottle of potion. While he waited, he performed the cleansing ritual, washing his face and hands symbolically in the bowl. Once he felt the pleasant relaxation of the chamomile flooding through his system, he reached his left hand out over the lake. Holding the dagger in his right hand, he slashed quickly downwards.
One, two, three drops of blood, black on the moonlit night, fell into the lake. He quickly stanched the bleeding and leaned forward, staring into the water.
As the book had instructed, he concentrated on what he wanted to know. "Please show me what I need to win against Voldemort." He whispered as he stared at his own reflection.
He leaned forward a little.
I don't see anything but me. I can't be all I need to defeat Voldemort! Something. Anything! He thought desperately.
He leaned forward a little more.
Maybe it's not supposed to show up clearly.
He leaned forward again to catch anything he wouldn't be able to see otherwise.
That's strange. My scar - it's backwards to how it usually is in a mirror . . .
Harry was so distracted by this observation that he fell forward into the lake with a 'sploosh.' Gasping and spluttering, he stood back up - fortunately, the water was only knee-deep in the part of the lake - and slogged back to shore, drenched from head to toe.
Serves me right, I suppose, he thought as he climbed onto the shore of the lake. Getting ideas like that. What was I thinking? Play an offensive game rather than a defensive one against Voldemort? I play offense in Quidditch. In this, my role's purely defensive.
He cast a quick drying spell on himself and finished the ritual by pouring the remains of the chamomile mixture onto the wound on his hand. He understood this part of the ritual, at least. According to Sprout, even the Muggles knew that chamomile has antibacterial properties.
He walked back into the castle. As he approached the portrait hole, he ran into Ginny, who held the portrait open for him. Ever since she and Neville had split up the previous year, she'd started seeing a Hufflepuff in her own year. They had first become acquainted when he helped her soothe her unhappy Mandrake in Herbology.
"Hey, Ginny." Harry grinned as they stepped into the Gryffindor common room. "Just getting back from meeting your boyfriend?"
She blushed. "That obvious?"
"Nah. Just a lucky guess."
Ginny turned towards the women's wing. "Good night, Harry."
''Night, Ginny." Harry said as he started up the stairs of the men's wing. He reached the room he shared with Dean, Neville, Ron and Seamus. His underwear was still slightly soggy, so he quickly changed into dry underwear and put on his nightshirt and went to bed.
When Harry awoke the next morning, the room was silent. He stuck his head out of the curtains, and saw that Seamus, Ron, Neville and Dean had all already left the room. The curtains around their beds were open.
Great. Late for Potions. Again. Harry sighed as he took a clean robe out of his trunk and headed for the shower.
He came out of the bathroom, grabbed his Potions book and assignment out of his trunk and took off at a run for class.
Soon after he'd left the portrait hole, he started hearing the voices of other students, and slowed to a walk. If that many students were still heading to classes, he probably wasn't as late as he had feared.
"Hey, Potter," a sixth year Ravenclaw asked, "where's your other half?"
He must mean Ron and Hermione, though that's a strange way to put it. "Oh, er, they went on ahead of me."
The Ravenclaw looked at Harry, clearly confused, and walked away without further comment.
A few other people asked Harry why he was by himself, which Harry thought strange, but he hadn't walked to class without Ron and Hermione in a while, and he decided that must be what they were talking about.
As he walked down the main corridor past the Great Hall, heading towards the stairs down to the dungeons, he heard a familiar voice behind him say, in a decidedly unfamiliar tone, "You didn't come down for breakfast this morning. I was worried about you."
Harry turned to address the speaker, "Malf - ummmf!"
But he was interrupted when Draco's mouth descended on his in a burningly passionate kiss.
By: PepperjackCandy
Rating: PG13
Disclaimer: You recognize it? It's J.K. Rowling's.
A/N: Whole different story from SST. Still H/D, though. ;-)
Phemonoe was one of the daughters of Apollo and, legend has it, the first Oracle of Delphi.
===========
The Window of Phemonoe was a powerful charm for answering your questions about the future, or so the book said. Harry had mixed the chamomile potion, and brought the bowl of water, vial of potion, and dagger to the lake. The full moon shone overhead as he drank half of the bottle of potion. While he waited, he performed the cleansing ritual, washing his face and hands symbolically in the bowl. Once he felt the pleasant relaxation of the chamomile flooding through his system, he reached his left hand out over the lake. Holding the dagger in his right hand, he slashed quickly downwards.
One, two, three drops of blood, black on the moonlit night, fell into the lake. He quickly stanched the bleeding and leaned forward, staring into the water.
As the book had instructed, he concentrated on what he wanted to know. "Please show me what I need to win against Voldemort." He whispered as he stared at his own reflection.
He leaned forward a little.
I don't see anything but me. I can't be all I need to defeat Voldemort! Something. Anything! He thought desperately.
He leaned forward a little more.
Maybe it's not supposed to show up clearly.
He leaned forward again to catch anything he wouldn't be able to see otherwise.
That's strange. My scar - it's backwards to how it usually is in a mirror . . .
Harry was so distracted by this observation that he fell forward into the lake with a 'sploosh.' Gasping and spluttering, he stood back up - fortunately, the water was only knee-deep in the part of the lake - and slogged back to shore, drenched from head to toe.
Serves me right, I suppose, he thought as he climbed onto the shore of the lake. Getting ideas like that. What was I thinking? Play an offensive game rather than a defensive one against Voldemort? I play offense in Quidditch. In this, my role's purely defensive.
He cast a quick drying spell on himself and finished the ritual by pouring the remains of the chamomile mixture onto the wound on his hand. He understood this part of the ritual, at least. According to Sprout, even the Muggles knew that chamomile has antibacterial properties.
He walked back into the castle. As he approached the portrait hole, he ran into Ginny, who held the portrait open for him. Ever since she and Neville had split up the previous year, she'd started seeing a Hufflepuff in her own year. They had first become acquainted when he helped her soothe her unhappy Mandrake in Herbology.
"Hey, Ginny." Harry grinned as they stepped into the Gryffindor common room. "Just getting back from meeting your boyfriend?"
She blushed. "That obvious?"
"Nah. Just a lucky guess."
Ginny turned towards the women's wing. "Good night, Harry."
''Night, Ginny." Harry said as he started up the stairs of the men's wing. He reached the room he shared with Dean, Neville, Ron and Seamus. His underwear was still slightly soggy, so he quickly changed into dry underwear and put on his nightshirt and went to bed.
When Harry awoke the next morning, the room was silent. He stuck his head out of the curtains, and saw that Seamus, Ron, Neville and Dean had all already left the room. The curtains around their beds were open.
Great. Late for Potions. Again. Harry sighed as he took a clean robe out of his trunk and headed for the shower.
He came out of the bathroom, grabbed his Potions book and assignment out of his trunk and took off at a run for class.
Soon after he'd left the portrait hole, he started hearing the voices of other students, and slowed to a walk. If that many students were still heading to classes, he probably wasn't as late as he had feared.
"Hey, Potter," a sixth year Ravenclaw asked, "where's your other half?"
He must mean Ron and Hermione, though that's a strange way to put it. "Oh, er, they went on ahead of me."
The Ravenclaw looked at Harry, clearly confused, and walked away without further comment.
A few other people asked Harry why he was by himself, which Harry thought strange, but he hadn't walked to class without Ron and Hermione in a while, and he decided that must be what they were talking about.
As he walked down the main corridor past the Great Hall, heading towards the stairs down to the dungeons, he heard a familiar voice behind him say, in a decidedly unfamiliar tone, "You didn't come down for breakfast this morning. I was worried about you."
Harry turned to address the speaker, "Malf - ummmf!"
But he was interrupted when Draco's mouth descended on his in a burningly passionate kiss.
