Hello, my dear friends. I have yet again come up with a new story to
hopefully entertain you. May I please repeat: "DO NOT READ THIS FIC UNLESS
YOU HAVE GOT TO PAGE 572 OR FURTHER IN H.P. AND THE ORDER OF THE
PHEONIX!!!!!!!!!" This is going to be different to what actually happens in
the book, but it is based around what has happened in the book. Please r+r,
PLEASE!!!!!
Disclaimer: This fic has been created solely for entertainment purposes. I, roze, take full credit for all improvements in your life commencing as of your reading of this fic and continuing for a reasonable period of time thereafter or until hell freezes over, whichever is longer. I, roze, accept no blame for any trouble you might get into because of same, including but not limited to: grounding, detention, expulsion from school, disfiguring hunting accidents, and the death penalty. You have now been duly warned. Enjoy!
r+r, PLEASE, roze x
The Pensieve
The silvery stuff within began to swirl very fast. Harry leaned forwards over it and saw that it had become transparent. He was, once again looking down into a room as though a circular window in the ceiling . . . in fact, unless he was much mistaken, he was looking down into the Great Hall.
He took a great gulp of breath, and plunged his face into the surface of Snape's thoughts. At once, the floor of the office lurched, tipping Harry head-first into the Pensieve
He was falling through the cold blackness, spinning furiously as he went, and then-
He was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, but the four house tables were gone. Instead, there were more than a hundred smaller tables, all facing the same way, at each of which sat a student, head bent low, scribbling on a roll of parchment. The only sound was the scratching of quills and the occasional rustle as somebody adjusted their parchment. It was clearly exam time.
Suddenly a whisper of "GO!!" was heard as two students were pushed down the stairs to the Great Hall. They both stumbled to the back of the hall as two tables magically appeared. A few heads turned to look at the interruption, but quickly turned back to their exam.
Sunshine was streaming through the high windows on to the bent heads, which shone chestnut and copper and gold in the bright light. Harry looked around carefully. Snape had to be here somewhere . . . this was his memory . . .
And there he was, at a table right behind Harry. Harry stared. Snape-the- teenager had a stringy, pallid look about him, like a plant kept in the dark. His hair was lank and greasy and was flopping on to the table, his hooked nose barely half an inch from the surface of the parchment as he scribbled. Harry moved around behind Snape and read the heading of the examination paper: DEFENCE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS-ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL.
So Snape had to be fifteen or sixteen, around Harry's own age. His hand was flying across the parchment; he had written at least a foot more than his closest neighbours, and yet his writing was minuscule and cramped.
"Five more minutes!"
The voice made Harry jump. Turning, he saw the top of Professor Flitwick's head moving between the desks a short distance away. Professor Flitwick was walking past a boy with untidy black hair. . . very untidy black hair. . .
Harry moved so quickly that, if he had been solid, he would have knocked desks flying. Instead he seemed to slide, dreamlike, across two aisles and up a third. The back of the black haired boy's head drew nearer and. . . he was straightening up now, putting down his quill, pulling his roll of parchment towards him so as to reread what he had written . . .
Harry stopped in front of the desk and gazed down at his fifteen-year-old father.
Excitement exploded in the pit of his stomach: it was as though he was looking at himself, but with deliberate mistakes. James's eyes were hazel, his nose was slightly longer than Harry's and there was no scar on his forehead, but they had the same thin face, same mouth, same eyebrows; James's hair stuck up at the back exactly as Harry's did, his hands could've been Harry's and Harry could tell that, when James stood up, they would be within an inch of each other in height.
James yawned hugely and rumpled up his hair, making it even messier than it had been. Then, with a glance towards Professor Flitwick, he turned in his seat and grinned at a boy sitting four seats behind him.
With another shock of excitement, Harry saw Sirius giving James the thumbs- up. Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James's nor Harry's could ever have achieved, and the girl sitting behind him was eyeing hopefully, though he didn't seem to have noticed. Harry took another look at the girl; he recognised her, but couldn't think of where. And two seats along from this girl - Harry's stomach gave another pleasurable squirm - was Remus Lupin. He looked rather pale and peaky (was the full moon approaching?) and was absorbed in the exam: as he reread his answers, he scratched his chin with the end of his quill, frowning slightly.
So that meant Wormtail had to be somewhere, too . . . and sure enough, Harry spotted him within seconds: a small, mousy - haired boy with a pointed nose. Wormtail looked anxious; he was chewing his fingernails, staring down at his paper, scuffing the ground with his toes. Every now and then he glanced hopefully at his neighbour's paper. Harry stared at Wormtail for a moment, and caught someone scowling two seats behind Wormtail. He had white - blonde hair, and a pointed face. Harry instantly recognised him as DRACO MALFOY.
I know most of this is copied straight from the book, but the rest of the story is based around this. Please r+r. roze x.
Disclaimer: This fic has been created solely for entertainment purposes. I, roze, take full credit for all improvements in your life commencing as of your reading of this fic and continuing for a reasonable period of time thereafter or until hell freezes over, whichever is longer. I, roze, accept no blame for any trouble you might get into because of same, including but not limited to: grounding, detention, expulsion from school, disfiguring hunting accidents, and the death penalty. You have now been duly warned. Enjoy!
r+r, PLEASE, roze x
The Pensieve
The silvery stuff within began to swirl very fast. Harry leaned forwards over it and saw that it had become transparent. He was, once again looking down into a room as though a circular window in the ceiling . . . in fact, unless he was much mistaken, he was looking down into the Great Hall.
He took a great gulp of breath, and plunged his face into the surface of Snape's thoughts. At once, the floor of the office lurched, tipping Harry head-first into the Pensieve
He was falling through the cold blackness, spinning furiously as he went, and then-
He was standing in the middle of the Great Hall, but the four house tables were gone. Instead, there were more than a hundred smaller tables, all facing the same way, at each of which sat a student, head bent low, scribbling on a roll of parchment. The only sound was the scratching of quills and the occasional rustle as somebody adjusted their parchment. It was clearly exam time.
Suddenly a whisper of "GO!!" was heard as two students were pushed down the stairs to the Great Hall. They both stumbled to the back of the hall as two tables magically appeared. A few heads turned to look at the interruption, but quickly turned back to their exam.
Sunshine was streaming through the high windows on to the bent heads, which shone chestnut and copper and gold in the bright light. Harry looked around carefully. Snape had to be here somewhere . . . this was his memory . . .
And there he was, at a table right behind Harry. Harry stared. Snape-the- teenager had a stringy, pallid look about him, like a plant kept in the dark. His hair was lank and greasy and was flopping on to the table, his hooked nose barely half an inch from the surface of the parchment as he scribbled. Harry moved around behind Snape and read the heading of the examination paper: DEFENCE AGAINST THE DARK ARTS-ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL.
So Snape had to be fifteen or sixteen, around Harry's own age. His hand was flying across the parchment; he had written at least a foot more than his closest neighbours, and yet his writing was minuscule and cramped.
"Five more minutes!"
The voice made Harry jump. Turning, he saw the top of Professor Flitwick's head moving between the desks a short distance away. Professor Flitwick was walking past a boy with untidy black hair. . . very untidy black hair. . .
Harry moved so quickly that, if he had been solid, he would have knocked desks flying. Instead he seemed to slide, dreamlike, across two aisles and up a third. The back of the black haired boy's head drew nearer and. . . he was straightening up now, putting down his quill, pulling his roll of parchment towards him so as to reread what he had written . . .
Harry stopped in front of the desk and gazed down at his fifteen-year-old father.
Excitement exploded in the pit of his stomach: it was as though he was looking at himself, but with deliberate mistakes. James's eyes were hazel, his nose was slightly longer than Harry's and there was no scar on his forehead, but they had the same thin face, same mouth, same eyebrows; James's hair stuck up at the back exactly as Harry's did, his hands could've been Harry's and Harry could tell that, when James stood up, they would be within an inch of each other in height.
James yawned hugely and rumpled up his hair, making it even messier than it had been. Then, with a glance towards Professor Flitwick, he turned in his seat and grinned at a boy sitting four seats behind him.
With another shock of excitement, Harry saw Sirius giving James the thumbs- up. Sirius was lounging in his chair at his ease, tilting it back on two legs. He was very good-looking; his dark hair fell into his eyes with a sort of casual elegance neither James's nor Harry's could ever have achieved, and the girl sitting behind him was eyeing hopefully, though he didn't seem to have noticed. Harry took another look at the girl; he recognised her, but couldn't think of where. And two seats along from this girl - Harry's stomach gave another pleasurable squirm - was Remus Lupin. He looked rather pale and peaky (was the full moon approaching?) and was absorbed in the exam: as he reread his answers, he scratched his chin with the end of his quill, frowning slightly.
So that meant Wormtail had to be somewhere, too . . . and sure enough, Harry spotted him within seconds: a small, mousy - haired boy with a pointed nose. Wormtail looked anxious; he was chewing his fingernails, staring down at his paper, scuffing the ground with his toes. Every now and then he glanced hopefully at his neighbour's paper. Harry stared at Wormtail for a moment, and caught someone scowling two seats behind Wormtail. He had white - blonde hair, and a pointed face. Harry instantly recognised him as DRACO MALFOY.
I know most of this is copied straight from the book, but the rest of the story is based around this. Please r+r. roze x.