The Call
By: Kumiko Vegeta aka Yasmine1
Email: T (may turn to M but right now not too sure)
Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry potter universe… I only use it to fit my devious needs and the wants of my audience. May you be content with my story but not think I own it. Thank you.
Summery: Sweet songs blow over the grass only to rest on his grave. I see no more. I hear no more. I am dead. But why can't I move on?
Chapter one
The beginning of seventh year was one of excitement. Full of returning students to the far away castle that housed the best Teachers money had to buy. Full of masters from each subject and not to mention so many secrets. A bubble of joy flowed to greet the students as they ascended the steps once more. Faces full of smiles looked up to the Head table to see the older man that always sat there. Face full of laughter, only to be reminded that he would no longer smile down on them or listen to their interesting tales of the summer break. No. This man would never smile again. How silly of the students to forget something so tragic that only happened a bit ago. Why had they forgotten the mark of the devil himself had floated and cased its green light over their very home away from home not but three months ago? How could they forget that he would not smile at them ever due to the horrible end of a overall regular school year? How sad of them to forget.
But this tale is not about the man that will never open each feast with a little tid bit of knowledge. Or the man that would stop the evil Potions Master turned Defense against the Dark Arts Teacher from deducting well over a thousand points because of a runny nose. No, this story was about a boy. A boy whose name is as widely known as the man that gave him that title. The Boy Who Lived, they called him. A boy with a destiny, they said in the papers. A boy who faced darkness and still came to the light. A boy that was in a prophecy that no one but he, a fake seer, and a dead man knew of. No this story is about him and how he, The Boy Who Lived, died.
The beginning of Seventh year will always be remembered, not because of the great summer everybody had. Not because of the boyfriend that so and so got. Or the new presents that was given. No the beginning of Seventh year would be remembered because it was the last time people would see Harry Potter alive.
TBC
A/N: I have searched long and wide for a good 'Harry dies' story. I found one but haven't found it since. If what I write jogs your memory, let me know. This will be a friendship story, maybe a SLASH later on. You have been warned!