Figgy the Witch: YAY! I wrote another story!
Seamus: Woopdeedoo..
Figgy the Witch: Bite me Seamus! *casts the Jelly Legs curses on him*
Seamus: *wails insanely*
Figgy the Witch: Serves you write. Anyways, I've been wanting to do a Harry Potter fic for a while now, I know I'm not done like any of my other fics.
Seamus: You got that right, you barely even started!
Figgy the Witch: *glares at Seamus* ANYWAYS, Harry Potter and all the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, who, may I say, is quite ingenious.So inspirational. Anyways, Please enjoy the story, it takes place shortly after the end of the fourth book.
center-------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------/center Impending Darkness iBy: Figgy the Witch/i
At the Dursley's, life had regained its normality after the incident the following year involving Dudley and the twins' Ton-Tongue Toffee. Dudley's diet was still in effect, but of course little difference had been made to the boy's enormous exterior. Uncle Vernon still gave blame to Harry every time some thing even minor would go wrong. Things had went back to the way they were, seemingly.
A great dread had begun to grow in Harry's mind, one that one got worse as time carried on. The papers and the word on the news only seemed to confirm what Harry was fretting. Multiple disappearances were being reported on a regular basis, and letters from his friend Ron had confirmed that there had been a number of disappearances in the wizarding world as well.
Lost in these thoughts at the breakfast table Harry had failed to notice that Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had begun to stare at him. 'Why is it the only time they take notice of me is when I least want them to take it?' he thought angrily.
"What is your problem boy? Are you up to something? You're staring at that wall..like..like." Suddenly Uncle Vernon's answer for everything came to his mind. Harry was surprised he even had to think about it anymore. Harry decided it was best not to put up a fight at this time in the morning and simply moved his attention to the soggy shredded wheat floating in his bowl of milk. After staring at it for a long time, he decided to save the room in his stomach for the real food he had stashed beneath the loose floorboards in his room.
He pushed the bowl away and made to get up and leave, when he felt an insane burning coming from his forehead. Not thinking about anything else but the searing pain he dropped to his knees, his head swimming from the agony. The Dursley's looked on in horror at Harry as though he was some sort of emerging monster. The pain began to fade and Harry rose to his feet, and slowly trudged out of the still-spinning room.
When Harry arrived at his bedroom, he laid himself down on the bed, hand still over the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. He looked up at the ceiling as he remembered the words that his godfather, Sirius Black had given him. Perhaps his scar did hurt when Voldemort was feeling particularly hateful. Did that mean Harry had no reason to worry about the pain he had just felt? Or was it that Voldemort was coming to him, that he was somewhere near. He didn't know, but maybe someone else will.
He walked slowly over to his desk where he took out a quill that he had boughten in Hogsmaede, one with a flavored tip. He pondered over what he would put down on the blank piece of parchment below him.
piSirius:/p Just writing to say that I'm doing well, and that Dudley is still on his pathetic diet. I'm basically living off what others have sent me, seeing as this summer almost every bit of food I've gotten from Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon seems to end up in Dudley's mouth. Anyways, the main reason I'm writing this is that my scar started to hurt again this morning. I don't think it's anything serious to worry about, but I just wanted to keep you posted. p-Harry/i/p
'That seems good enough!' thought Harry to himself. He rose from the wooden chair and trundled over to the cage in which his snowy owl Hedwig was kept in. She was sleeping on her perch, head tucked beneath her wing, and Harry hated to wake her, but the sooner he got this letter to Sirius, the sooner Sirius would reply.
'Hedwig..' Harry quietly whispered in an attempt to rouse her. She pulled her head out from beneath her snowy wing quickly as though she was angered by the annoyance. She began to hoot at Harry but once he showed her the letter, she seemed to better understand. He quickly tied it to her leg, and released her out of the upstairs window. He sat upon the ledge, and watched her until she was completely out of sight.
By the time Harry went downstairs again it was nearly lunch, and the Dursley's were seated around the table again. He sat down at the table and immediately all eyes were on him. Again, attention when it was not at all desired. He pretended not to notice and began to busy himself with his cutlery.
"What happened to you earlier?" asked Uncle Vernon in a loud almost accusing voice.
"Nothing too serious, nothing at all," replied Harry calmly as ever. Still they all eyed him suspiciously.
"Are you ill, boy? Do you need a medic?" This time Harry's only reply was a shake of his head as he began to eat the celery sticks that were on his plate. Dudley who had already finished his eyed them greedily.
"You seemed to be in a great deal of pain for someone who is not in need of a medic," said Uncle Vernon again. It was obvious that he was not going to let this go.
"My scar hurt, is all. Not really a big deal, happens all the time," lied Harry.
"Isn't it bizarre, Petunia," he suddenly turned his attention to Aunt Petunia, "that in all the years that Harry's lived in this house never once, not even once have we seen him hurt so badly by the ugly scar on his face? It happens all the time does it? Why hadn't we noticed before?" Uncle Vernon had a good point Harry had to admit. What could he do to get him off his case?
"Has something to do with magic, it does. That's probably why you've never noticed it before." He had said it. The one thing that was most likely to upset Mr. Dursley was the mention of magic in their little home on Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon was rapidly turning purple, and Harry knew what was coming.
"HOW DARE YOU MENTION THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOME! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!' he screamed, and Harry swiftly took his advice and jogged from the table up the stairs.
From his room he could still hear Aunt Petunia trying to calm him down, and telling him over and over again that Harry was simply a delinquent, and he should pay no heed. It would bother most people, but not Harry, him being a horrible excuse for a nephew was simply a part of his daily routine. He had grown use to the Dursley's distaste for him.
Harry walked back over to the window, pulled out a book 'iUnfogging the Future/i' and began his Transfiguration homework that he had been given. He hated having homework over the summer, but it was a small price to pay for being able to attend a school like Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
By the time he placed his book down on the floor the full moon was out, and the neighborhood's laterns glowed softly down Privet Drive. It seemed like it was going to be a perfect night, the temperature was perfect and the moon threw it's light where the street lamps were unable to reach. It was an overall perfect night.
Suddenly, without warning, the searing pain to Harry's forehead began once again. He nearly fell from his seat on the window ledge near the open window as he attempted to steady him self. It continued to burn as Harry watch a number of cloaked figures approach to door to house number 4 on Privet Drive.
Seamus: Woopdeedoo..
Figgy the Witch: Bite me Seamus! *casts the Jelly Legs curses on him*
Seamus: *wails insanely*
Figgy the Witch: Serves you write. Anyways, I've been wanting to do a Harry Potter fic for a while now, I know I'm not done like any of my other fics.
Seamus: You got that right, you barely even started!
Figgy the Witch: *glares at Seamus* ANYWAYS, Harry Potter and all the characters belong to J.K. Rowling, who, may I say, is quite ingenious.So inspirational. Anyways, Please enjoy the story, it takes place shortly after the end of the fourth book.
center-------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------------------------------------------------------------/center Impending Darkness iBy: Figgy the Witch/i
At the Dursley's, life had regained its normality after the incident the following year involving Dudley and the twins' Ton-Tongue Toffee. Dudley's diet was still in effect, but of course little difference had been made to the boy's enormous exterior. Uncle Vernon still gave blame to Harry every time some thing even minor would go wrong. Things had went back to the way they were, seemingly.
A great dread had begun to grow in Harry's mind, one that one got worse as time carried on. The papers and the word on the news only seemed to confirm what Harry was fretting. Multiple disappearances were being reported on a regular basis, and letters from his friend Ron had confirmed that there had been a number of disappearances in the wizarding world as well.
Lost in these thoughts at the breakfast table Harry had failed to notice that Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley had begun to stare at him. 'Why is it the only time they take notice of me is when I least want them to take it?' he thought angrily.
"What is your problem boy? Are you up to something? You're staring at that wall..like..like." Suddenly Uncle Vernon's answer for everything came to his mind. Harry was surprised he even had to think about it anymore. Harry decided it was best not to put up a fight at this time in the morning and simply moved his attention to the soggy shredded wheat floating in his bowl of milk. After staring at it for a long time, he decided to save the room in his stomach for the real food he had stashed beneath the loose floorboards in his room.
He pushed the bowl away and made to get up and leave, when he felt an insane burning coming from his forehead. Not thinking about anything else but the searing pain he dropped to his knees, his head swimming from the agony. The Dursley's looked on in horror at Harry as though he was some sort of emerging monster. The pain began to fade and Harry rose to his feet, and slowly trudged out of the still-spinning room.
When Harry arrived at his bedroom, he laid himself down on the bed, hand still over the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. He looked up at the ceiling as he remembered the words that his godfather, Sirius Black had given him. Perhaps his scar did hurt when Voldemort was feeling particularly hateful. Did that mean Harry had no reason to worry about the pain he had just felt? Or was it that Voldemort was coming to him, that he was somewhere near. He didn't know, but maybe someone else will.
He walked slowly over to his desk where he took out a quill that he had boughten in Hogsmaede, one with a flavored tip. He pondered over what he would put down on the blank piece of parchment below him.
piSirius:/p Just writing to say that I'm doing well, and that Dudley is still on his pathetic diet. I'm basically living off what others have sent me, seeing as this summer almost every bit of food I've gotten from Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon seems to end up in Dudley's mouth. Anyways, the main reason I'm writing this is that my scar started to hurt again this morning. I don't think it's anything serious to worry about, but I just wanted to keep you posted. p-Harry/i/p
'That seems good enough!' thought Harry to himself. He rose from the wooden chair and trundled over to the cage in which his snowy owl Hedwig was kept in. She was sleeping on her perch, head tucked beneath her wing, and Harry hated to wake her, but the sooner he got this letter to Sirius, the sooner Sirius would reply.
'Hedwig..' Harry quietly whispered in an attempt to rouse her. She pulled her head out from beneath her snowy wing quickly as though she was angered by the annoyance. She began to hoot at Harry but once he showed her the letter, she seemed to better understand. He quickly tied it to her leg, and released her out of the upstairs window. He sat upon the ledge, and watched her until she was completely out of sight.
By the time Harry went downstairs again it was nearly lunch, and the Dursley's were seated around the table again. He sat down at the table and immediately all eyes were on him. Again, attention when it was not at all desired. He pretended not to notice and began to busy himself with his cutlery.
"What happened to you earlier?" asked Uncle Vernon in a loud almost accusing voice.
"Nothing too serious, nothing at all," replied Harry calmly as ever. Still they all eyed him suspiciously.
"Are you ill, boy? Do you need a medic?" This time Harry's only reply was a shake of his head as he began to eat the celery sticks that were on his plate. Dudley who had already finished his eyed them greedily.
"You seemed to be in a great deal of pain for someone who is not in need of a medic," said Uncle Vernon again. It was obvious that he was not going to let this go.
"My scar hurt, is all. Not really a big deal, happens all the time," lied Harry.
"Isn't it bizarre, Petunia," he suddenly turned his attention to Aunt Petunia, "that in all the years that Harry's lived in this house never once, not even once have we seen him hurt so badly by the ugly scar on his face? It happens all the time does it? Why hadn't we noticed before?" Uncle Vernon had a good point Harry had to admit. What could he do to get him off his case?
"Has something to do with magic, it does. That's probably why you've never noticed it before." He had said it. The one thing that was most likely to upset Mr. Dursley was the mention of magic in their little home on Privet Drive. Uncle Vernon was rapidly turning purple, and Harry knew what was coming.
"HOW DARE YOU MENTION THE 'M' WORD IN OUR HOME! GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!' he screamed, and Harry swiftly took his advice and jogged from the table up the stairs.
From his room he could still hear Aunt Petunia trying to calm him down, and telling him over and over again that Harry was simply a delinquent, and he should pay no heed. It would bother most people, but not Harry, him being a horrible excuse for a nephew was simply a part of his daily routine. He had grown use to the Dursley's distaste for him.
Harry walked back over to the window, pulled out a book 'iUnfogging the Future/i' and began his Transfiguration homework that he had been given. He hated having homework over the summer, but it was a small price to pay for being able to attend a school like Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
By the time he placed his book down on the floor the full moon was out, and the neighborhood's laterns glowed softly down Privet Drive. It seemed like it was going to be a perfect night, the temperature was perfect and the moon threw it's light where the street lamps were unable to reach. It was an overall perfect night.
Suddenly, without warning, the searing pain to Harry's forehead began once again. He nearly fell from his seat on the window ledge near the open window as he attempted to steady him self. It continued to burn as Harry watch a number of cloaked figures approach to door to house number 4 on Privet Drive.