O.K this is my first fic so be nice to me and please write reviews,
even bad ones. Also tell me what you think should happen at the end.
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, they all belong to J.K Rowling.
1. Dreaming Again
As I look around I see only black, apart from a tiny postage-stamp square of light, striped with rusty metal bars. Beneath my bare and blistered feet I feel cold rock and gritty dust. My fingertips find the edge of the bed. The cold iron cuts into my hands and the peeling white paint crumbles into my palms. I can smell the sea outside, salt. I can taste the salt too; it lingers on my breath and dries my throat until I can barely make a sound. During the day there is silence, a silence that suffocates you like a great, black blanket. But worse is the night, when I can hear the stifled sobs and strangled screams of human beings. I have not seen another human being in so long, I only see them…
There was a crash of lightening and Harry Potter awoke with a start. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaking hand and tried to quiet his hurried breathing. Every night the same dream. He saw a girl, thin and pale, wearing a tunic made of sacking. Her hands and feet were bloody and sore and her hair was straggly and grey from dust and dirt. He looked into her eyes and he could hear her thoughts. He could sense her mind, body and soul screaming for help. All I see is them… He knew where she was, Azkaban. The most feared wizarding punishment, a place where you see no humans, only the dementors. Harry had had his own encounter with the dementors two years back. They force you to remember all the worst things that have happened to you until they drive you insane. These dreams seemed so real, and Harry remembered when, last year he had had dreams that were really happening. Could this be someone's life he was seeing? He shuddered at the thought.
The thunder growled like an angry dog. Harry got up and, deciding he would sleep no more, looked at his alarm clock: 4:30 am. He pulled on some clothes and crept out of the Dursleys' house.
Harry hated his aunt and uncle; they were he biggest muggles he had ever met. But even more he hated his cousin, Dudley. Spiteful and thuggish, Dudley had picked on Harry from a young age, but now Dudley just ignored him like the rest. The Dursleys didn't care if Harry wasn't in bed in the morning, they only cared that he didn't soil their perfect reputation as the most respectable family in the neighborhood. So Harry often snuck out early in the morning. He had started training, so that he was fit. He reckoned that any way that Voldemort didn't expect him to attack was worth practicing and anyhow the Quidditch season at Hogwarts would be starting soon and he was hoping to stand for captain.
The summer holidays had dragged on and on, but today he was going to Diagon Alley to buy his school things. He would meet his two best friends there Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and was really looking forward to it.
He sprinted round the corner and into the train station, it was a two- hour journey to London and he didn't want to be late. He hurriedly bought his ticket and rushed onto the train, where he sat and attempted to write his potions essay whilst hiding the books from the eyes of passers by. The journey seemed to fly by and before he knew it Harry found himself in front of the pub, "The Leaky Cauldron".
3. A Night in "The Leaky Cauldron".
I'm running across the rocks. My feet are bleeding and my lungs feel as though they're going to explode, but I'm out. I'm free. I feel the spray and rain dashing against my face. The sea looks deadly, the foam leaps from it like wild, white horses. I know that if I want to survive, I too will have to be tossed on the waves like a piece of driftwood. I stand on the edge of a cliff. The rock beneath my feet is slippery and weather worn. The harsh wind cuts into my face, and I know I have to jump and swim. It's the only way to escape. So, I bend my legs, stretch out my arms and dive…
'Harry, Harry are you okay?' said Ron as he shook Harry awake.
'Uh, yeah I'm fine.'
'What was that? You were shaking and you kind of went all… weird.'
'Oh, it was just a dream, I keep getting,' Harry replied.
'What, about You Know Who?'
'Nah, but it's like that. Look, its hard to explain, do you want to go down stairs?'
Ron followed Harry down to the bar. They sat down in the corner where no one could see them and he continued his story.
'Well, it's about this girl.'
'Ooooooooh.'
'No it's like that,' said Harry edgily, 'she's in Azkaban, or at least she was until tonight. Last time she was free, escaping!' Ron eyed Harry curiously. 'It's awful, there's no way she was any older than us and in Azkaban, what could she have done? I just have the feeling she's real, that's all.'
I dunno Harry,' said Ron anxiously, 'maybe you should write to Dumbledore or Sirius, just to check. I heard about children in Azkaban once, but I just thought my mum was trying to scare me out of eating my greens.'
DISCLAIMER: None of these characters are mine, they all belong to J.K Rowling.
1. Dreaming Again
As I look around I see only black, apart from a tiny postage-stamp square of light, striped with rusty metal bars. Beneath my bare and blistered feet I feel cold rock and gritty dust. My fingertips find the edge of the bed. The cold iron cuts into my hands and the peeling white paint crumbles into my palms. I can smell the sea outside, salt. I can taste the salt too; it lingers on my breath and dries my throat until I can barely make a sound. During the day there is silence, a silence that suffocates you like a great, black blanket. But worse is the night, when I can hear the stifled sobs and strangled screams of human beings. I have not seen another human being in so long, I only see them…
There was a crash of lightening and Harry Potter awoke with a start. He wiped the sweat from his brow with a shaking hand and tried to quiet his hurried breathing. Every night the same dream. He saw a girl, thin and pale, wearing a tunic made of sacking. Her hands and feet were bloody and sore and her hair was straggly and grey from dust and dirt. He looked into her eyes and he could hear her thoughts. He could sense her mind, body and soul screaming for help. All I see is them… He knew where she was, Azkaban. The most feared wizarding punishment, a place where you see no humans, only the dementors. Harry had had his own encounter with the dementors two years back. They force you to remember all the worst things that have happened to you until they drive you insane. These dreams seemed so real, and Harry remembered when, last year he had had dreams that were really happening. Could this be someone's life he was seeing? He shuddered at the thought.
The thunder growled like an angry dog. Harry got up and, deciding he would sleep no more, looked at his alarm clock: 4:30 am. He pulled on some clothes and crept out of the Dursleys' house.
Harry hated his aunt and uncle; they were he biggest muggles he had ever met. But even more he hated his cousin, Dudley. Spiteful and thuggish, Dudley had picked on Harry from a young age, but now Dudley just ignored him like the rest. The Dursleys didn't care if Harry wasn't in bed in the morning, they only cared that he didn't soil their perfect reputation as the most respectable family in the neighborhood. So Harry often snuck out early in the morning. He had started training, so that he was fit. He reckoned that any way that Voldemort didn't expect him to attack was worth practicing and anyhow the Quidditch season at Hogwarts would be starting soon and he was hoping to stand for captain.
The summer holidays had dragged on and on, but today he was going to Diagon Alley to buy his school things. He would meet his two best friends there Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger and was really looking forward to it.
He sprinted round the corner and into the train station, it was a two- hour journey to London and he didn't want to be late. He hurriedly bought his ticket and rushed onto the train, where he sat and attempted to write his potions essay whilst hiding the books from the eyes of passers by. The journey seemed to fly by and before he knew it Harry found himself in front of the pub, "The Leaky Cauldron".
3. A Night in "The Leaky Cauldron".
I'm running across the rocks. My feet are bleeding and my lungs feel as though they're going to explode, but I'm out. I'm free. I feel the spray and rain dashing against my face. The sea looks deadly, the foam leaps from it like wild, white horses. I know that if I want to survive, I too will have to be tossed on the waves like a piece of driftwood. I stand on the edge of a cliff. The rock beneath my feet is slippery and weather worn. The harsh wind cuts into my face, and I know I have to jump and swim. It's the only way to escape. So, I bend my legs, stretch out my arms and dive…
'Harry, Harry are you okay?' said Ron as he shook Harry awake.
'Uh, yeah I'm fine.'
'What was that? You were shaking and you kind of went all… weird.'
'Oh, it was just a dream, I keep getting,' Harry replied.
'What, about You Know Who?'
'Nah, but it's like that. Look, its hard to explain, do you want to go down stairs?'
Ron followed Harry down to the bar. They sat down in the corner where no one could see them and he continued his story.
'Well, it's about this girl.'
'Ooooooooh.'
'No it's like that,' said Harry edgily, 'she's in Azkaban, or at least she was until tonight. Last time she was free, escaping!' Ron eyed Harry curiously. 'It's awful, there's no way she was any older than us and in Azkaban, what could she have done? I just have the feeling she's real, that's all.'
I dunno Harry,' said Ron anxiously, 'maybe you should write to Dumbledore or Sirius, just to check. I heard about children in Azkaban once, but I just thought my mum was trying to scare me out of eating my greens.'