Hello, I just wanted to say thanks to VyingQuill for dropping me a review
so soon. I'm going on vacation for a couple of weeks. I'll try to get
more posted if my family lets me anywhere near a computer. Yeah, family
bonding. . . .I'll definitely start posing again in June.
HARRY POTTER AND THE MYTH OF THE SILVERSTAR
Chapter Two
Arthur Weasley felt as though he was caught up in a spider's web. No matter what he did, he couldn't break away from whatever was binding him. With nothing but darkness on all sides in every degree leading away from him, he had little to tell him where he was. In fact, he did not know at all. . . . He clearly recalled getting up for work on August the Sixth, breakfast, arriving at the Ministry, but, it was only moments after that he was uncertain of his actions.
He heard what sounded similar to a dripping pipe somewhere in the great expanse of blackness. He was probably in a basement somewhere or horror the thought, a cave.
Arthur's biggest concern was for his family. By suppertime, Molly would be absolutely beside herself! He fought back the urge to haul off and try to hit something since every move he made something bound his limbs tighter to his body. Soon enough, he wouldn't be able to breathe.
"Who are you!" He cried into the void. "Why have you got me here--Like this?"
Silence.
And the nearing beams of a dull lantern.
"I was beginning to think you'd never wake up." A smokey voice accompanied the lantern. "The curse usually wears off in a couple of days. Two weeks is a long time. I'd almost given you up for dead."
"Two Weeks." Arthur was in shock. He fell back into his bindings. What of his family?
+++++
Harry tiptoed down the stairs hoping that the creaking wood didn't wake anyone up. He hadn't gotten the hedge done that afternoon. Vernon had been irate, especially when he noticed the damage that Ron had caused to the shrubbery. The bush was gone, and Harry had predictably been stuffed in his room and not allowed out until it was time for him to clear the table and wash the dishes.
He wanted his first stop to be the kitchen so he could pilfer a pear or a dinner roll at the very least. At the age of fifteen, he was still growing very quickly. This year's birthday treats had disappeared quickly this year. Harry pushed on through the kitchen and gently eased the back door open. Ron should still be hiding out in the alley by the dustbins. Uncle Vernon had come roaring up the drive in his newest Grunnings car before Harry and Ron had a chance to speak.
"Ron?" Harry peered over the short fence and looked for his friend. "Ron-- Are you there?"
A black cloak was suddenly hurled to the ground. The end of his wand emitted a short whiff of smoke. "It's bloody cold out here."
Harry stared at his friend and wanted to laugh. Ron looked awfully silly in his Chudley Cannons T-shirt and blue jeans that were a good three or four inches too short. Not to mention the new haircut-- "Well, I'd have let you come into the house, but I'm not even welcome there."
Ron shook his head. It didn't matter. "We've got a problem."
Harry pulled his pajama top a bit closer to his skin. With that comment, it suddenly became much much colder outside. "We?"
Harry had never seen Ron so close to tears before, even when he was being teased to the point that that he looked like he'd rather take death than another day of dealing with the heckles. "Ron, what's wrong?"
"It's my Father." He couldn't get it all out in one try.
The dark haired teen didn't like the sound of this at all. The mere thought of something being wrong with Arthur made the roots of his toenails tingle.
"He's gone missing, and not even the Ministry can find him!" Ron was exasperated.
A light had gone on in the second floor of the house. "I don't know what the heck you're doing down there boy, but I'd get my ungrateful carcass back in the house if I were you."
Uncle Vernon had come to rain on Harry's depressing parade. "I'll be right in. I forgot to take out the rubbage from under the kitchen sink."
"You should have thought of that earlier." He sniped back at his nephew. Now there were a couple of lights flashing on in neighboring homes.
Harry shifted a glance back to Ron. This was a sticky situation. "I think the Chatsworth's Cocker Spaniel has been in the garden again! I just stepped in--"
"Enough out of you boy," Vernon growled and slammed the window shut. The light was out seconds later.
"My Mum is absolutely beside herself. We don't know what to do." Ron started talking even before the window got shut.
What makes you think that I do? Harry questioned himself. "We'll get something figured out."
+++++
"I've been following your career, Arthur." The Voice was saying. "You've become rather infatuated with Muggles and their way of life."
Arthur was struggling to attempt to see just who or what was speaking to him, but the dull glow from the dying flame couldn't cast light far enough to illuminate anything more than the speaker's black clothed belly.
"If you like those blasted creatures so much, why haven't you tried to run off and join them."
"What am I doing here?" He realized at that moment, that even if the light was better, his glasses were gone. He couldn't see the details on his hand outstretched at arm's length without his glasses. "I'm so low on the Ministry's food chain, that I assure you, you'd get more for letting me go than keeping me."
"Have you no self-esteem. Do you hold yourself and your position in such a low regard that you are unable to even compliment yourself?" The Voice huffed and began to turn away.
"Wait!" Arthur pleaded. "You've got to let me out of here. I have a wife and a family. They need me." He began to fluster. Surely his ears were as red as the remains of his hair.
"I need you more."
And the light was gone.
HARRY POTTER AND THE MYTH OF THE SILVERSTAR
Chapter Two
Arthur Weasley felt as though he was caught up in a spider's web. No matter what he did, he couldn't break away from whatever was binding him. With nothing but darkness on all sides in every degree leading away from him, he had little to tell him where he was. In fact, he did not know at all. . . . He clearly recalled getting up for work on August the Sixth, breakfast, arriving at the Ministry, but, it was only moments after that he was uncertain of his actions.
He heard what sounded similar to a dripping pipe somewhere in the great expanse of blackness. He was probably in a basement somewhere or horror the thought, a cave.
Arthur's biggest concern was for his family. By suppertime, Molly would be absolutely beside herself! He fought back the urge to haul off and try to hit something since every move he made something bound his limbs tighter to his body. Soon enough, he wouldn't be able to breathe.
"Who are you!" He cried into the void. "Why have you got me here--Like this?"
Silence.
And the nearing beams of a dull lantern.
"I was beginning to think you'd never wake up." A smokey voice accompanied the lantern. "The curse usually wears off in a couple of days. Two weeks is a long time. I'd almost given you up for dead."
"Two Weeks." Arthur was in shock. He fell back into his bindings. What of his family?
+++++
Harry tiptoed down the stairs hoping that the creaking wood didn't wake anyone up. He hadn't gotten the hedge done that afternoon. Vernon had been irate, especially when he noticed the damage that Ron had caused to the shrubbery. The bush was gone, and Harry had predictably been stuffed in his room and not allowed out until it was time for him to clear the table and wash the dishes.
He wanted his first stop to be the kitchen so he could pilfer a pear or a dinner roll at the very least. At the age of fifteen, he was still growing very quickly. This year's birthday treats had disappeared quickly this year. Harry pushed on through the kitchen and gently eased the back door open. Ron should still be hiding out in the alley by the dustbins. Uncle Vernon had come roaring up the drive in his newest Grunnings car before Harry and Ron had a chance to speak.
"Ron?" Harry peered over the short fence and looked for his friend. "Ron-- Are you there?"
A black cloak was suddenly hurled to the ground. The end of his wand emitted a short whiff of smoke. "It's bloody cold out here."
Harry stared at his friend and wanted to laugh. Ron looked awfully silly in his Chudley Cannons T-shirt and blue jeans that were a good three or four inches too short. Not to mention the new haircut-- "Well, I'd have let you come into the house, but I'm not even welcome there."
Ron shook his head. It didn't matter. "We've got a problem."
Harry pulled his pajama top a bit closer to his skin. With that comment, it suddenly became much much colder outside. "We?"
Harry had never seen Ron so close to tears before, even when he was being teased to the point that that he looked like he'd rather take death than another day of dealing with the heckles. "Ron, what's wrong?"
"It's my Father." He couldn't get it all out in one try.
The dark haired teen didn't like the sound of this at all. The mere thought of something being wrong with Arthur made the roots of his toenails tingle.
"He's gone missing, and not even the Ministry can find him!" Ron was exasperated.
A light had gone on in the second floor of the house. "I don't know what the heck you're doing down there boy, but I'd get my ungrateful carcass back in the house if I were you."
Uncle Vernon had come to rain on Harry's depressing parade. "I'll be right in. I forgot to take out the rubbage from under the kitchen sink."
"You should have thought of that earlier." He sniped back at his nephew. Now there were a couple of lights flashing on in neighboring homes.
Harry shifted a glance back to Ron. This was a sticky situation. "I think the Chatsworth's Cocker Spaniel has been in the garden again! I just stepped in--"
"Enough out of you boy," Vernon growled and slammed the window shut. The light was out seconds later.
"My Mum is absolutely beside herself. We don't know what to do." Ron started talking even before the window got shut.
What makes you think that I do? Harry questioned himself. "We'll get something figured out."
+++++
"I've been following your career, Arthur." The Voice was saying. "You've become rather infatuated with Muggles and their way of life."
Arthur was struggling to attempt to see just who or what was speaking to him, but the dull glow from the dying flame couldn't cast light far enough to illuminate anything more than the speaker's black clothed belly.
"If you like those blasted creatures so much, why haven't you tried to run off and join them."
"What am I doing here?" He realized at that moment, that even if the light was better, his glasses were gone. He couldn't see the details on his hand outstretched at arm's length without his glasses. "I'm so low on the Ministry's food chain, that I assure you, you'd get more for letting me go than keeping me."
"Have you no self-esteem. Do you hold yourself and your position in such a low regard that you are unable to even compliment yourself?" The Voice huffed and began to turn away.
"Wait!" Arthur pleaded. "You've got to let me out of here. I have a wife and a family. They need me." He began to fluster. Surely his ears were as red as the remains of his hair.
"I need you more."
And the light was gone.