The Wisdom to Know the Difference
Disclaimer: Despite her lateness in releasing the fifth Harry Potter book, J.K Rowling reigns supreme in Harry Potter land and I would never try to make any money off of that. Come on, now. There must be something better to do with your time than search for missing disclaimers in HP fanfiction. You wouldn't be able to get any money out of me, anyway.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference
Harry Potter lay wide-awake on his bed, arms folded, and staring at the ceiling. He glanced at the clock next to his bed for what felt like the hundredth time. Just as he knew it would, the clock still read 3:14.
"Well, Potter, what did you expect?" He thought to himself in aggravation. "Last time you looked, one minute ago, it was 3:13. You don't expect the night to fly by on your account just because you have been having trouble sleeping, did you?" Harry moaned quietly. Berating himself seemed to be counterproductive. Besides, he got enough sarcastic insults from his relatives. He didn't need to join in. But why does the night seem to last so long, particularly when one cannot sleep at all?
Sleep did seem hard to come by for Harry these days. Ever since he got out of Hogwarts three weeks ago, he either took hours to fall asleep or never got the chance. Resignedly, he got out of bed. Since it was clear he was not going to get any rest tonight, he might as well get something done. He didn't really feel like doing schoolwork...Harry's eyes moved around the room, finally resting on Hedwig, sleeping in her cage. He might as well write to Ron and Hermione, and Sirius while he was at it. All of their previous letters had been anxious and carefully written, phrased in such a way as if they didn't want to disturb him. Harry couldn't really blame them. When they had last seen each other, it was right after the Tournament, and they knew Harry was still haunted by the events of the third task, even if they didn't know what had happened.
Harry massaged his temple, deep in thought. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell them. Or maybe it was. He had a hard enough time thinking about that night, let alone reliving it to people, no matter how sympathetic those ears might be. Inevitably, the memories of that night came rising up out of his mind, the voices tortured whispers, magnified tenfold by his guilt and fear...
"Kill the spare..."
"Take my body back, bring me back to my parents, please Harry..."
"Avada Kedavra!"
Mentally willing the voices away, Harry drew out a fresh sheet of parchment, and began his letter to Ron, reflecting people long dead and memories that refused to stay buried...
Dear Ron,
I'm fine. I am actually starting to sleep better, so don't worry...
*Well, there you are. This is my first time writing fanfiction, although I do a lot of writing for other things. Please, please review. Give me suggestions, criticism. If you hate it, tell me what to do to make it better! I would like some reviews before I continue, but I won't be dramatic and demand a certain amount before the next chapter.
I have had this plot rolling around in my brain and driving me crazy, so I figured it was time to get it out. I haven't noticed it on ff.net, but if something like this is there, I am not stealing your story! Please ask questions, or e-mail me at RubyRedEC@attbi.com.
Goodnight, and thank you...and, review!
Balizabeth
Disclaimer: Despite her lateness in releasing the fifth Harry Potter book, J.K Rowling reigns supreme in Harry Potter land and I would never try to make any money off of that. Come on, now. There must be something better to do with your time than search for missing disclaimers in HP fanfiction. You wouldn't be able to get any money out of me, anyway.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference
Harry Potter lay wide-awake on his bed, arms folded, and staring at the ceiling. He glanced at the clock next to his bed for what felt like the hundredth time. Just as he knew it would, the clock still read 3:14.
"Well, Potter, what did you expect?" He thought to himself in aggravation. "Last time you looked, one minute ago, it was 3:13. You don't expect the night to fly by on your account just because you have been having trouble sleeping, did you?" Harry moaned quietly. Berating himself seemed to be counterproductive. Besides, he got enough sarcastic insults from his relatives. He didn't need to join in. But why does the night seem to last so long, particularly when one cannot sleep at all?
Sleep did seem hard to come by for Harry these days. Ever since he got out of Hogwarts three weeks ago, he either took hours to fall asleep or never got the chance. Resignedly, he got out of bed. Since it was clear he was not going to get any rest tonight, he might as well get something done. He didn't really feel like doing schoolwork...Harry's eyes moved around the room, finally resting on Hedwig, sleeping in her cage. He might as well write to Ron and Hermione, and Sirius while he was at it. All of their previous letters had been anxious and carefully written, phrased in such a way as if they didn't want to disturb him. Harry couldn't really blame them. When they had last seen each other, it was right after the Tournament, and they knew Harry was still haunted by the events of the third task, even if they didn't know what had happened.
Harry massaged his temple, deep in thought. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell them. Or maybe it was. He had a hard enough time thinking about that night, let alone reliving it to people, no matter how sympathetic those ears might be. Inevitably, the memories of that night came rising up out of his mind, the voices tortured whispers, magnified tenfold by his guilt and fear...
"Kill the spare..."
"Take my body back, bring me back to my parents, please Harry..."
"Avada Kedavra!"
Mentally willing the voices away, Harry drew out a fresh sheet of parchment, and began his letter to Ron, reflecting people long dead and memories that refused to stay buried...
Dear Ron,
I'm fine. I am actually starting to sleep better, so don't worry...
*Well, there you are. This is my first time writing fanfiction, although I do a lot of writing for other things. Please, please review. Give me suggestions, criticism. If you hate it, tell me what to do to make it better! I would like some reviews before I continue, but I won't be dramatic and demand a certain amount before the next chapter.
I have had this plot rolling around in my brain and driving me crazy, so I figured it was time to get it out. I haven't noticed it on ff.net, but if something like this is there, I am not stealing your story! Please ask questions, or e-mail me at RubyRedEC@attbi.com.
Goodnight, and thank you...and, review!
Balizabeth