My first fan fiction, please review! Slight slash warning. If you can
handle Will and Grace, you can handle this!
The Dream
Shaking, trembling, a raven-haired boy stood in the numbing snow, his emerald green eyes darting madly about like angry bees trapped inside. His breath came out in little puffs, his skin cold and blue. Yet, a ray of light was there, a warm, glowing light melted the icy cage that kept him in. Stepping towards Harry, the light grew warmer, and at last a pale hand ran its fingers through his hair, melting the icy crust that held him caged in his non-magickal dome. Hazel eyes met his, and the light faded, although it was still there. It was then when Harry recognized the face. It leaned forwards, and Harry felt a jolt of a strange emotion.
Harry awoke with a start. Drenched in cold sweat, he sat up in Dudley's old bead, censoring the kiss in his mind. "Ron?" he breathed, disgusted with himself. What in the name of God could have possessed him to think up such a dream? Wile trying to forget it, he heard a loud screech from downstairs. Harry strained his ears to listen
"Up, up!" screeched Petunia, Harry's Muggle aunt. Darting to his dresser, he pulled on a shit and soft jeans, and bolted downstairs. He turned the corner into the kitchen, and pulled out a chair. Harry was breathing heavily, as his aunt and uncle noticed, but ignored.
"I got a letter from Ron this mourning," he said, staring at his slice of grapefruit. That was enough to make breakfast grind to a screeching halt. His beefy uncle dropped his fork, Aunt Petunia became as pale as the white walls and Dudley almost fell out of his chair.
"I don't want that family of freaks coming near my wife and son ever again!" Uncle Vernon boomed, slamming his fist onto the table. "Don't even think for one moment-"
"Please, Uncle Vernon." Harry said softly, his emerald eyes gleaming pleadingly. "They will come by car this time. I promise!"
Vernon sighed, staring at him with beady eyes. "Alright. But I'm warning you. One foot out of line." Harry nodded sharply, a balloon of happiness exploding in his heart.
"Good. They'll be here in a five minutes," he said lightly, not wanting to test Vernon's patience. He bolted down his grapefruit, and rushed into the lounge before his uncle could hurt him.
Four minutes later, the doorbell rang, breaking the pleasant silence of Number 4 Privet Drive. No one answered. The door rang again, this time almost breaking the bell. Three nocks in tune of shave and a haircut, but still no one tended to the persisting door. Harry got to his feet, bolting to the door, seeing Dudley cowering in the corner out of the edge of his eyes. His pale fingers wrenched the door open, seeing hazel eyes meeting his when the wooden plank was out of the way. Remembering the dream, he jumped back and cringed. Ron's brow quivered, wondering what Harry was up to.
"Lets go, Harry, Mum'll worry!" Ron said, pulling him out. Fred and Gorge went in and came out with all of Harry's things. Once all was packed, he swung the red car door open, climbing in.
"Err, goodbye," he said quickly, watching Privet Drive sink away.
***************
The door of the Burrow swung open, letting the sweet sent of baking corn bread come wafting into Harry's nose. As he stepped in, he heard the sound of dishes scrubbing themselves by magick, and Mrs. Wesley shuffling about in the bedrooms above. Mr. Wesley ushered them into the kitchen, putting a finger to his lips to signal them to be quiet. By the sound of a loud clink upstairs, Harry could tell their efforts had failed miserably. Loud steps banged their way downstairs, and a very angry woman's face appeared at the foot of the steps. "AURTHOR!" she boomed. "Where have you been? Six hours, SIX HOURS! What were you thinking? Where did you go?" "Hello, dear," he said, fidgeting in his spot. "I got lost.you know how those Muggle devices." "Well at least you didn't fly!" she screeched. Fred and Gorge sniggered, but straightened up under Mrs. Wesley's cold, hard glare. "Oh, Harry, dear! Welcome, welcome!" She gave him a boa constrictor hug; letting go after she noticed Harry's pale skin was turning blue. It was then when he noticed that another person was in the room. Ginny sat in a Birchwood chair, one that looked as if it were hand-made. He nodded to her, but she, however, gave neither a glance nor a smile, just stood there and stared off into oblivion. "Hello Ginny," he said, waving slightly to her. The girl just stood there, staring at the sink. Mrs. Wesley was fumbling in the oven, poking at the corn bread with a fork, but Harry already had blocked everything else in the room out of his mind. "Ginny?" Ginny's head snapped towards him quickly, eyes burning like the pits of hell themselves. "Hello, Potter," she spat at him. The tone in her voice was so cold that he staggered backwards into Ron, who whispered that they should go up to their room before his mum had them stirring the batter. "Is Ginny alright?" Harry said to Ron while climbing the stairs. It was strange for Ginny to act so cold and hurtful; she was usually quite happy to see him. "Oh, she's been acting quite awkward for weeks now.shut up in her room, hardly eats." Ron stopped at his bedroom door, lost in thought. "And she is rather rude when you interrupt her when she's reading or thinking.she's got the lot of us worried sick," He opened the door to his room, their ears perking as it let out a loud squeak. The room was the same as always; orange wallpaper, bedspread, and Ron's small-as-a-pinball grey owl sleeping on his perch by the window. Books cluttered the room as well as several letters, potion bottles, and trick taffies. Harry closed the door behind them, and seconds later, soft footsteps patted like raindrops up the stairs, and the sound of a door creaking open and slamming shut filled Harry's ears. "Ginny." said Ron softly. "Only God knows what she does in there," "Ever go in and see?" Harry blurted out, noting the horrified expression on Ron's face. "Are you stark raving mad?" he said, eyes wide. "She'd kill me." Harry found it hard to imagine Ginny killing anyone, but the image of a young woman with flaming red hair standing over her brother with a knife in her hands flashed before his eyes, and he resized it wasn't that hard. "She's been scowling and raving about no one coming in her room for days. Didn't take it to hart much at first, of course it is Ginny, but when Fred barged in on her yesterday, she almost soldered him! Dad had t'pull her off him, he did," "She attacked him?" Harry asked, amazed. It wasn't like Ginny to do such a thing, but it wasn't like Ron to lie to him. "No.she shouted a bit, and jumped at him. Had her hands wrapped around his neck, too." Harry nodded, his eyes as wide as hubcaps. He felt a cold, and icy feeling in the pit of his belly, at if the bottom of it had fallen out. "Where's your bathroom?" "You should know by now, Harry. Three doors past my room," he said, leaning back on his bed. Harry darted out of the room, feeling his quarter of grapefruit gurgling out of him. He didn't know why he was feeling this way, but it was something about Ginny now that made him feel strange. He stopped at her door, the feeling traveling to his heart and creeping up to his head. Ginny's door was ajar, and an eerie silver light leaked out of her room. What in the devil could she be doing in there? Harry pondered. The light shifted from silver, to blue, to purple, to red, and it was then that Harry slid his eye in front of the door. The light was almost blinding, but he could see through it. Ginny was standing in her pitch-black room, the only light that which came from whatever she was going and the little cracks in the shudders, and she was hovered over a small table. Harry could make out a wand on the table, but there were three other magickal objects there as well, and candles.it simply boggled Harry's mind. Ginny was chanting something from a spell book she held in her hands. A roar of thunder rumbled throughout the house, making Ginny perk up. Closing her spell book, she sat down, and began folding away the four objects on the small table into a large trunk. A caldron was boiling next to her, and she spooned the mixture into small vials and packing them away. Behind him he could hear Ron shouting, "It's snowing! IN THE SUMMER!" Hazel eyes glided towards green ones, and Ginny's eyes met Harry's.
handle Will and Grace, you can handle this!
The Dream
Shaking, trembling, a raven-haired boy stood in the numbing snow, his emerald green eyes darting madly about like angry bees trapped inside. His breath came out in little puffs, his skin cold and blue. Yet, a ray of light was there, a warm, glowing light melted the icy cage that kept him in. Stepping towards Harry, the light grew warmer, and at last a pale hand ran its fingers through his hair, melting the icy crust that held him caged in his non-magickal dome. Hazel eyes met his, and the light faded, although it was still there. It was then when Harry recognized the face. It leaned forwards, and Harry felt a jolt of a strange emotion.
Harry awoke with a start. Drenched in cold sweat, he sat up in Dudley's old bead, censoring the kiss in his mind. "Ron?" he breathed, disgusted with himself. What in the name of God could have possessed him to think up such a dream? Wile trying to forget it, he heard a loud screech from downstairs. Harry strained his ears to listen
"Up, up!" screeched Petunia, Harry's Muggle aunt. Darting to his dresser, he pulled on a shit and soft jeans, and bolted downstairs. He turned the corner into the kitchen, and pulled out a chair. Harry was breathing heavily, as his aunt and uncle noticed, but ignored.
"I got a letter from Ron this mourning," he said, staring at his slice of grapefruit. That was enough to make breakfast grind to a screeching halt. His beefy uncle dropped his fork, Aunt Petunia became as pale as the white walls and Dudley almost fell out of his chair.
"I don't want that family of freaks coming near my wife and son ever again!" Uncle Vernon boomed, slamming his fist onto the table. "Don't even think for one moment-"
"Please, Uncle Vernon." Harry said softly, his emerald eyes gleaming pleadingly. "They will come by car this time. I promise!"
Vernon sighed, staring at him with beady eyes. "Alright. But I'm warning you. One foot out of line." Harry nodded sharply, a balloon of happiness exploding in his heart.
"Good. They'll be here in a five minutes," he said lightly, not wanting to test Vernon's patience. He bolted down his grapefruit, and rushed into the lounge before his uncle could hurt him.
Four minutes later, the doorbell rang, breaking the pleasant silence of Number 4 Privet Drive. No one answered. The door rang again, this time almost breaking the bell. Three nocks in tune of shave and a haircut, but still no one tended to the persisting door. Harry got to his feet, bolting to the door, seeing Dudley cowering in the corner out of the edge of his eyes. His pale fingers wrenched the door open, seeing hazel eyes meeting his when the wooden plank was out of the way. Remembering the dream, he jumped back and cringed. Ron's brow quivered, wondering what Harry was up to.
"Lets go, Harry, Mum'll worry!" Ron said, pulling him out. Fred and Gorge went in and came out with all of Harry's things. Once all was packed, he swung the red car door open, climbing in.
"Err, goodbye," he said quickly, watching Privet Drive sink away.
***************
The door of the Burrow swung open, letting the sweet sent of baking corn bread come wafting into Harry's nose. As he stepped in, he heard the sound of dishes scrubbing themselves by magick, and Mrs. Wesley shuffling about in the bedrooms above. Mr. Wesley ushered them into the kitchen, putting a finger to his lips to signal them to be quiet. By the sound of a loud clink upstairs, Harry could tell their efforts had failed miserably. Loud steps banged their way downstairs, and a very angry woman's face appeared at the foot of the steps. "AURTHOR!" she boomed. "Where have you been? Six hours, SIX HOURS! What were you thinking? Where did you go?" "Hello, dear," he said, fidgeting in his spot. "I got lost.you know how those Muggle devices." "Well at least you didn't fly!" she screeched. Fred and Gorge sniggered, but straightened up under Mrs. Wesley's cold, hard glare. "Oh, Harry, dear! Welcome, welcome!" She gave him a boa constrictor hug; letting go after she noticed Harry's pale skin was turning blue. It was then when he noticed that another person was in the room. Ginny sat in a Birchwood chair, one that looked as if it were hand-made. He nodded to her, but she, however, gave neither a glance nor a smile, just stood there and stared off into oblivion. "Hello Ginny," he said, waving slightly to her. The girl just stood there, staring at the sink. Mrs. Wesley was fumbling in the oven, poking at the corn bread with a fork, but Harry already had blocked everything else in the room out of his mind. "Ginny?" Ginny's head snapped towards him quickly, eyes burning like the pits of hell themselves. "Hello, Potter," she spat at him. The tone in her voice was so cold that he staggered backwards into Ron, who whispered that they should go up to their room before his mum had them stirring the batter. "Is Ginny alright?" Harry said to Ron while climbing the stairs. It was strange for Ginny to act so cold and hurtful; she was usually quite happy to see him. "Oh, she's been acting quite awkward for weeks now.shut up in her room, hardly eats." Ron stopped at his bedroom door, lost in thought. "And she is rather rude when you interrupt her when she's reading or thinking.she's got the lot of us worried sick," He opened the door to his room, their ears perking as it let out a loud squeak. The room was the same as always; orange wallpaper, bedspread, and Ron's small-as-a-pinball grey owl sleeping on his perch by the window. Books cluttered the room as well as several letters, potion bottles, and trick taffies. Harry closed the door behind them, and seconds later, soft footsteps patted like raindrops up the stairs, and the sound of a door creaking open and slamming shut filled Harry's ears. "Ginny." said Ron softly. "Only God knows what she does in there," "Ever go in and see?" Harry blurted out, noting the horrified expression on Ron's face. "Are you stark raving mad?" he said, eyes wide. "She'd kill me." Harry found it hard to imagine Ginny killing anyone, but the image of a young woman with flaming red hair standing over her brother with a knife in her hands flashed before his eyes, and he resized it wasn't that hard. "She's been scowling and raving about no one coming in her room for days. Didn't take it to hart much at first, of course it is Ginny, but when Fred barged in on her yesterday, she almost soldered him! Dad had t'pull her off him, he did," "She attacked him?" Harry asked, amazed. It wasn't like Ginny to do such a thing, but it wasn't like Ron to lie to him. "No.she shouted a bit, and jumped at him. Had her hands wrapped around his neck, too." Harry nodded, his eyes as wide as hubcaps. He felt a cold, and icy feeling in the pit of his belly, at if the bottom of it had fallen out. "Where's your bathroom?" "You should know by now, Harry. Three doors past my room," he said, leaning back on his bed. Harry darted out of the room, feeling his quarter of grapefruit gurgling out of him. He didn't know why he was feeling this way, but it was something about Ginny now that made him feel strange. He stopped at her door, the feeling traveling to his heart and creeping up to his head. Ginny's door was ajar, and an eerie silver light leaked out of her room. What in the devil could she be doing in there? Harry pondered. The light shifted from silver, to blue, to purple, to red, and it was then that Harry slid his eye in front of the door. The light was almost blinding, but he could see through it. Ginny was standing in her pitch-black room, the only light that which came from whatever she was going and the little cracks in the shudders, and she was hovered over a small table. Harry could make out a wand on the table, but there were three other magickal objects there as well, and candles.it simply boggled Harry's mind. Ginny was chanting something from a spell book she held in her hands. A roar of thunder rumbled throughout the house, making Ginny perk up. Closing her spell book, she sat down, and began folding away the four objects on the small table into a large trunk. A caldron was boiling next to her, and she spooned the mixture into small vials and packing them away. Behind him he could hear Ron shouting, "It's snowing! IN THE SUMMER!" Hazel eyes glided towards green ones, and Ginny's eyes met Harry's.
