DZ2's Den of Delights
Hi to all my loyal readers and those who enjoy my stories: The Den of Delights is open once more and for this next one, I'm going with an idea for my own 'Let It Go' Challenge that might seem a bit…odd, if nothing else.
Also, at this stage in the game, I'd like to thank everyone who has continued to support my work and have fun reading my many ideas; and, if you enjoyed my Den of Delights, then go and check out some of the alternate 'idea dump' stories out there by other authors such as…
The Lost Files by Undercover Operative
Loki's Madhouse Kitchen by Loki Palmer
IDEAS by StormyFireDragon
Moonlight Shadows by moonfeather58
Wolf's Den of Ideas by Winged Seer Wolf
The Great Harry Potter Preview by zeropolis79
And the many more out there, I'm sure; all these things are is a place for us to share our inspirations and jot down ideas for future stories;
Anyway, on with the story
Frozen Fractals
Harry wasn't sure who was more frightened at the moment;
The students of Hogwarts or Harry himself as he looked into the eyes of the serpent that had been summoned by Draco Malfoy, the fierce, venomous glare of the snake fixed solely on Harry as he looked back at it, a part of him questioning what he was meant to do now.
"Don't move, Potter," Snape's voice seemed to cut through the cloud of confusion that had enveloped Harry's thoughts, "I'll get rid of it for you."
"Allow me, Professor Snape," Lockhart interrupted, drawing his wand before, with an overly-dramatic flourish, he commanded, "Alarte Ascendare!"
His spell, instead of banishing or destroying the serpent, only seemed to do little more than launch it into the air before the snake slammed down onto the ground. At the same time, Harry felt the cloud of confusion that had gathered around him slowly parting until, without really knowing why, the young Gryffindor began to walk towards the snake.
Several people, including Snape and Lockhart, made to move towards Harry, but instead of acknowledging them, Harry opened his mouth and, to them, spoke the worst sort of tones that he could.
/Do not move,/ Harry hissed, though to the staff and students of Hogwarts, it was more like sibilant and unintelligible hisses that had sprung from his lips.
The snake, seemingly hearing the words, looked up at Harry before it reared its head up and turned to face Justin Finch-Fletchley, who took a step back in fright as the snake bared its fangs.
/Do not attack!/ Harry commanded in his strange hissing tone, again alarming the students while the snake wavered as though drunk. Trying again, Harry hissed once more, /I command you…do NOT attack!/
The snake's hissing stopped and, as it turned, the eyes of the reptilian creature met Harry's before Snape's voice cut through the silence once more, "Vipera Evanesca!"
The snake vanished in a burst of fiery ashes, leaving nothing but a stunned school, a frightened-looking Justin and an uneasy, but changed Harry.
"What on earth do you think you're playing at?" demanded Justin, earning a look from Harry as he asked, "Commanding that snake to attack me: always should have known you were a wrong 'un, Potter!"
"What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Fletchley?" asked Harry, now stepping down from the stage while the students backed up, intimidated and a little uneasy of the power that stood in their midst. "I was telling that snake not to attack you, didn't you hear?"
"I heard you speaking Parseltongue," exclaimed Justin, "And everyone knows that's the language of Dark Wizards and Dark Lords: why do you think Slytherin's mantle is a serpent, Potter?"
Suddenly Harry didn't feel as confident or as brave: instead, he felt unusually angry by the insinuation.
Clenching his fists, Harry asked incredulously, "So because one House has the mark of the serpent means I'm evil, does it? For Merlin's sake, I'm a bloody Gryffindor for a reason!"
"Who speaks to snakes and has survived the un-survivable," retorted Justin, but Harry had stopped listening as soon as the git had proclaimed him a Dark Lord.
Storming past the Hufflepuff idiot, Harry felt a single rivulet of red run down his palm: reaching the door, he looked at his hand and, with wide eyes, he saw that his nails had cut deep into his palm, spilling his blood and letting it run over his hand to the tips of his fingers where it dripped onto the ground.
'Let it go,' a part of his conscience whispered, earning a twitch of the neck from Harry as though trying to ignore a fly's buzzing, 'Let it go…'
'Can't…can't hold it back anymore,' thought Harry, moving through the door with his hand on the solid wood.
Again, the voice in his head seemed to mock him as it jeered, 'Let it go…let it go…turn away and slam the door…'
'A Dark Wizard?' wondered Harry, his head now turning to the side as he fought against this sudden darkness that had risen inside him with the accusation. 'Is that what they think? Because I have this gift? What? I'm no longer their saviour: no longer able to be the good guy I always have to be?'
'Why do I care what they're going to say?' The voice in his head whispered, his conscience now seemingly one with his thoughts as he added, 'Let the storm rage on…it's not like the cold ever bothered me anyway.'
Reaching the front doors of the school, Harry chuckled to himself before he asked, "Weird, where did that come from and why do I suddenly have an urge to burst into song?"
Chuckling to himself, Harry walked out of Hogwarts and, standing in the snow outside the school, Harry felt a smile creep onto his face as he realised that his war of emotions did have one point about what he'd do now.
Because, though this was a dark gift, apparently, Harry found himself unable to care.
Magic was like the snow that glowed white on a mountain at night with not a footprint to be seen: it was a power that was unique to each and every person.
'Like the snow,' thought Harry, 'My power flurries through the air into the ground and now, because of their doubts, my soul is spiralling in frozen fractals all around.'
Snow fell onto Harry's shoulders as he stood there in the wintry grip of his determination, a glow filling his green eyes that hadn't really been there before as he smirked before he shook his head and, clenching his fists again, he made himself a promise to the cold that had gripped at him.
The one thought that crystallises like an icy blast and seemed to decide Harry's future with his declaration:
"I'm never going back; the past is in the past!"
This was his power;
Not dark lords, not dark wizards…well, not yet anyway;
His!
'Let it go, Harry,' the voice whispered, its tone eerily similar to Harry's own as he repeated, 'Let it go.'
Okay, so maybe that one is a bit weird, but you get the basic idea, I hope: lost in confusion, Harry's thoughts are muddled and take the form of the lyrics from that famous song. I don't know if this one could really go anywhere, but if it does, I might post it;
Anyway, next instalment to the Den coming soon…
