Authors note: I have an annoying habit of starting a story, then creating another one and leaving the others, that's what happened here, I now have three unfinished stories that I need to continue writing. *sigh*
Anyway, I think this will be an interesting story to write, yet I have no idea what happens next at the moment.
The Harry Potter universe belongs to Joanne Rowling. Have a fun time reading this painfully short chapter! :)
Harry lay on his bed shaking.
His scar hurt, no hurt wasn't the right word, it burnt, it stung, it throbbed, it ached. The list went on and on. It was like torture. He would die. He was dying. He wanted to die.
"Harry?" Ron's voice filled the room.
Ron, that name sounded familiar yet Harry couldn't place it, it seemed like an important name.
"Sirius!" Ron's voice shouted. Harry didn't like shouting but he couldn't remember why.
He could barely see anymore, he knew he had glasses on but maybe glasses stop working every now and then, that seemed like a sensible explanation.
He saw a blurry figure join the shorter one in the doorway. "Harry!" The taller figure shouted. "Harry! You have to fight him! Don't let him in! Oh merlin! Someone get Dumbledore!" Harry then noticed some other figures, up until that moment they had blended into a wall. A few of them disappeared.
Harry wanted to warn them, warn them of the pain, the suffering, but he couldn't speak, he didn't remember how, but he had to, he had to warn them!
There was a loud pop and another figure appeared which rushed up to him straight away.
Harry tried to stay awake, he really did but the sleep was there and he needed it, it was as if it was waiting for him, a gift, an out from the pain, so he took it.