Michael could not see very well. His vision was blurry and it was semi-dark. He rubbed his eyes to clear them of sleep. Michael looked around and saw he was in a small room. He was lying on what looked like an operating table.
"Great," Michael said. "Just a place I always wanted to wake up."
He spotted a door.
"Well," Michael said, "I guess I could look outside."
Michael went to get up, only for his knees to give way. Every time he tried to stand, he would just fall down. So he just sat on the floor just a little away from the bed.
"Well," Michael said, "This is good. I have no idea where they have sent me and I can't walk. Just bloody perfect."
There was the sound of footsteps walking down the hall. They passed right by.
~A Few Days Later~
Michael slowly began to regain the use of his limbs. He had no contact with anyone since he got here. Well, actually he had little contact. They did feed him twice a day. More than he usually got at their place. Though he knew that they were watching him. Why or what they were watching for was beyond him.
Michael was lying on the bed, looking up at the ceiling. He knew that were was no place for him at the house one was supposed to call home, but he had nowhere else to go. What was he going to do when he got out of here? If he did get out of here.
He shook his head, "I cannot think like that. I am going to get out of here."
Michael turned on his side and stared at the door. He didn't have much to do here. There were a few books in the room. Which he read so much that he knew it by heart. He had some of his things in here. The Potters had been nice enough to have given him some books.
'Nicest thing they have ever done,' Michael thought.
Michael was once again staring at the ceiling.
'Do it,' a voice said. 'Do it. Use magic.'
Michael sat up slowly.
'Do it,' the voice said, 'Destroy. Use it to destroy. Destroy with magic.'
'No,' Michael screamed silently, 'I don't want to. I don't want to destroy.'
'Yes you do,' the voice said, 'You want to destroy everything in this room. You want to destroy everything in this building. Do it. Use magic.'
"NO," Michael shouted grabbing his hair. "I DO NOT WANT TO. I WON'T DDO IT."
'Do it,' the voice was becoming louder and more persist. 'Do it. DO IT NOW!'
Michael screamed as it grew louder. He wanted it to stop.
'DO IT DO IT DO IT,' it kept on and on, 'DO IT! USE MAGIC! DESTROY! DO IT NOW!'
Michael was finding it hard to concentrate. He could feel himself losing slipping.
'DESTROY THE ROOM! USE MAGIC! DESTROY, DESTROY, DESTROY!'
Michael felt like a dam was breaking. He screamed as his magic flooded into the room. Michael was in so much pain.
For you see, Michael was to become a powerful wizard and the more powerful the outlet of untrained power you let out, the more it hurts. Just as his brother was to become, because that usually happened with twins. If one was powerful then the other will be equally as powerful. It was common for it to run in the family. No one would dare call the Malofy's or Black's weak. The Weasely's, maybe; however, Michael knew that they were powerful; they just didn't flaunt it like so many others did.
Things began flying around the room. Hitting the walls, ceiling, and floor; things were being ripped apart and it was all Michael's doing. Michael continued to scream as more magic poured out of him. The voice was still there. It would not stop.
'MORE, MORE. DESTROY MORE. YES THAT'S IT. DESTROY EVRYTHING!'
Things began to hit Michael as well. He tried to stop it but he couldn't. The flow of power was too great for him to stop. The ceiling was starting to crumble and the floor was violently shaking.
The door opened and three figures appeared, arms out stretched. A bright light shot from their wands and hit Michael. Michael sighed with relief as the pain started to subside. Michael felt his eyes droop. He felt his legs give out from under him.
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Michael was lying down on something. He couldn't tell what it was. His eyelids felt like they were heavier than lead. His limbs were not responding to his commands.
"That was some powerful bit of magic," someone said, "You are definitely strong enough to be here. I hope you will stay. All the other places are not going to be so kind in letting you by with such a thing."
Michael groaned. He had no idea what had happened or what was going on. He just knew he was in extreme pain.
"Here drink this," the person said.
Michael felt a hand slip under his shoulder and holing him up. When he felt something pressing against lips, he opened his mouth and drank eagerly. When the cup was gone, Michael started coughing.
"There now," the person said. "Calm down. Everything will be alright."
Michael opened his eyes, only to close them immediately. The light seemed to blind him.
"Where am I," Michael croaked.
"You are in the hospital wing of the Kiddo ward of Forest Ways School of Troubled Wizards and Witches."
"What," Michael said. "I am not a troubled wizard."
"No, I didn't suppose you have heard of it. Most people who come here hardly ever leave. However that does not mean that you cannot leave of course."
"What does it mean then," Michael inquired.
"That is for later. For now you need to rest, so you can start training."
"Training," Michael said, "Training for what and who are you?"
"If I told you what you were training for, you won't learn anything. As for who I am, I am Dr. Riddle. I know everything."
"Yeah right," Michael said. "No one can know everything."
"I know you don't really belong in this institution," Riddles said softly. "That you are smarter than your brother. Though you do need help, it is not from this place. Lucky for you, I got you to you before anyone else."
"What are you talking about," Michael said.
"Nothing for you to worry about," Riddles said. "Just sleep for now. Everything will be alright."
Michael laid there watching the strange man leaving. How did this man know that? How could this man who he never met nor heard of know so much about him? No one knew much about him. So how was it possible that this man could know?
Michael's head began to swim. He groaned as he laid his head back now. Black spots were dancing in his vision. How? That was the last thing that went through his mind.
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Ok first off I want to apologize for not updating. I hope that you have not lost faith in me. I did not accomplish what I had wanted to in this chapter. I had kind of planned on sending him to Hogwarts but I just could not get there with this chapter. I think that is why I was having such a hard time with this chapter. I wanted to move it faster than I should.
Do you want to see a chapter focused on the other Potters? If so, which one? Read and review.
