Wow!!! I'm finally writing the seventh chapter…no seriously - oh my god!!!! Wow… Anyway, keep reading and writing guys, sorry bout, baaaaaad writer's…erm I would say block, but I'll settle with 'lack of talent'.
Harry Potter and the War of Hogwarts
The sun rose in the deserted high street, looking forlorn from the lack of people. The road was absent from cars. The only sounds were the songs of the birds, waking up to the warm morning.
The increasing light rested on the still form of a small boy with messy hair, crouching unseen in a corner, apparently asleep. Harry, desperate to get away from the Death Eaters had not stopped travelling until he had found a town to rest in, early morning just as the sky changed from black to dark grey. He had walked, and run for an overall of three hours, pulse racing following the confrontation with Voldermort's supporters.
When he had found reached the outskirts of the town, instead of worrying about what would happen now, his thoughts switched to that of the woman. Firstly, she had suffered, what looked like a stab wound, and various blows to the head. She had run away, not knowing where she was going, unless she lived nearby. Which seemed unlikely, Harry thought, as she was a witch. Why would she be living in Privet Drive? By the time Harry had sat down in a corner just of the main high street, he was so exhausted, he just couldn't think about the woman, or anything else.
But now, it was morning. In a few hours these streets would be bustling, and it would be time for Harry to move on. He steeled himself to get up. As he pushed up his legs, he groaned with cramp…
Maybe just a little longer.
A small crowd had grouped in Dumbledore's office. As Fawkes sat perched on the old headmaster's chair, the people in the room stood around an innocent looking piece of parchment.
"When we touch the portkey, we must all be on the alert, this is imperative - we have no idea what will be on the 'other side', so to speak, " Dumbledore said, ending on a low chuckle.
Sirius, eye brow raised, shot an 'I don't believe this is happening' look at Remus, who in turned rolled his eyes. Beside him Snape shifted uneasily.
"Severus, I'll be needing you to go on ahead - you know what to do when Voldermort calls."
In a reply Snape gave a slight nod, his mouth a thin line. His eyes glinted dangerously, as if resigned to his fate, and left the room, leaving in his wake the tension he and all others in the room were experiencing.
Dumbledore, surveyed the people left in the room, the fiery spark had not left his light blue eyes. However, gone was the humour and benign smile - in it's place was grim determination and desperation to rescue their strongest defender, the Boy Who Lived.
"I cannot stress the importance of what we are about to do. You all know his importance, even if he doesn't. If we don't succeed, they will kill him, make no mistake. If we find ourselves out numbered send word, and help will arrive. You know doubt know that we cannot rely on the ministry. It's our strengths against Voldermort's evil. I, in my heart, know who will win."
Sirius raised his head at these words, and placed his hand on the portkey, resolve etched into his care worn features. The others followed suit. They remained that way until the flash. And they were gone.
Ron Weasly, head covered with a pillow to escape the racket (sp?) caused by his twin brothers groaned as he heard the owl pecking on the window. He lifted his covers gingerly to take in the morning light (morning being twelve midday). His face brightened when he saw
Hedwig perched, looking a little perturbed at his lack of politeness. She swept in, and dropped the letter on Ron's bed before taking flight again heading out again.
"What's the rush?" Asked Ron, looking strangely at the owl, who was now perched on Ron's window sill. She cocked her head at Ron, before nodding to the letter now in his hand.
"Okay, okay!" He laughed at opened it. Reading it, his smile fell.
That moment, there was a knock at Ron's door.
"… erm, yeah -whatever…" Ron said absently, as he re-read the letter, concern showing on his face.
Mr Weasly, who had just slipped through the door, eyed Ron curiously. Filtering through from downstairs was the sound of Mrs Weasly making breakfast, yelling at her different children in the process. Ron looked up at his father…
Mr Weasly, seeing the letter in Ron's outstretched hand, took it and read it through, eyes growing wide. It was from Harry. Suddenly, he let out a terrified gasp.
"Oh no, no, no. Ron, when did this letter arrive?!"
"Erm, just a few minutes ago…", said Ron, face pale.
"It's not right…Dumbledore just flooed over here…he said…asking for help… you know, whatsitcalled - back-up," he muttered, disjointedly.
Ron leant closer to his father…" What? What did he say…back-up??!"
Without saying another word, Mr Weasly rushed out of the room, and hurried down the stairs calling to Molly, clutching the letter from Harry in his hand.
Ron, was left standing in the middle of his room…'What was that all about?' He thought, '
After all, all it said was that he was in London….'
Okay guys! Thatsa it! Sorry about the really short chapter, after the huuuuge wait, trust me when i say ' writer's severe lack of talent block thingymebob'
xxxx
Harry Potter and the War of Hogwarts
The sun rose in the deserted high street, looking forlorn from the lack of people. The road was absent from cars. The only sounds were the songs of the birds, waking up to the warm morning.
The increasing light rested on the still form of a small boy with messy hair, crouching unseen in a corner, apparently asleep. Harry, desperate to get away from the Death Eaters had not stopped travelling until he had found a town to rest in, early morning just as the sky changed from black to dark grey. He had walked, and run for an overall of three hours, pulse racing following the confrontation with Voldermort's supporters.
When he had found reached the outskirts of the town, instead of worrying about what would happen now, his thoughts switched to that of the woman. Firstly, she had suffered, what looked like a stab wound, and various blows to the head. She had run away, not knowing where she was going, unless she lived nearby. Which seemed unlikely, Harry thought, as she was a witch. Why would she be living in Privet Drive? By the time Harry had sat down in a corner just of the main high street, he was so exhausted, he just couldn't think about the woman, or anything else.
But now, it was morning. In a few hours these streets would be bustling, and it would be time for Harry to move on. He steeled himself to get up. As he pushed up his legs, he groaned with cramp…
Maybe just a little longer.
A small crowd had grouped in Dumbledore's office. As Fawkes sat perched on the old headmaster's chair, the people in the room stood around an innocent looking piece of parchment.
"When we touch the portkey, we must all be on the alert, this is imperative - we have no idea what will be on the 'other side', so to speak, " Dumbledore said, ending on a low chuckle.
Sirius, eye brow raised, shot an 'I don't believe this is happening' look at Remus, who in turned rolled his eyes. Beside him Snape shifted uneasily.
"Severus, I'll be needing you to go on ahead - you know what to do when Voldermort calls."
In a reply Snape gave a slight nod, his mouth a thin line. His eyes glinted dangerously, as if resigned to his fate, and left the room, leaving in his wake the tension he and all others in the room were experiencing.
Dumbledore, surveyed the people left in the room, the fiery spark had not left his light blue eyes. However, gone was the humour and benign smile - in it's place was grim determination and desperation to rescue their strongest defender, the Boy Who Lived.
"I cannot stress the importance of what we are about to do. You all know his importance, even if he doesn't. If we don't succeed, they will kill him, make no mistake. If we find ourselves out numbered send word, and help will arrive. You know doubt know that we cannot rely on the ministry. It's our strengths against Voldermort's evil. I, in my heart, know who will win."
Sirius raised his head at these words, and placed his hand on the portkey, resolve etched into his care worn features. The others followed suit. They remained that way until the flash. And they were gone.
Ron Weasly, head covered with a pillow to escape the racket (sp?) caused by his twin brothers groaned as he heard the owl pecking on the window. He lifted his covers gingerly to take in the morning light (morning being twelve midday). His face brightened when he saw
Hedwig perched, looking a little perturbed at his lack of politeness. She swept in, and dropped the letter on Ron's bed before taking flight again heading out again.
"What's the rush?" Asked Ron, looking strangely at the owl, who was now perched on Ron's window sill. She cocked her head at Ron, before nodding to the letter now in his hand.
"Okay, okay!" He laughed at opened it. Reading it, his smile fell.
That moment, there was a knock at Ron's door.
"… erm, yeah -whatever…" Ron said absently, as he re-read the letter, concern showing on his face.
Mr Weasly, who had just slipped through the door, eyed Ron curiously. Filtering through from downstairs was the sound of Mrs Weasly making breakfast, yelling at her different children in the process. Ron looked up at his father…
Mr Weasly, seeing the letter in Ron's outstretched hand, took it and read it through, eyes growing wide. It was from Harry. Suddenly, he let out a terrified gasp.
"Oh no, no, no. Ron, when did this letter arrive?!"
"Erm, just a few minutes ago…", said Ron, face pale.
"It's not right…Dumbledore just flooed over here…he said…asking for help… you know, whatsitcalled - back-up," he muttered, disjointedly.
Ron leant closer to his father…" What? What did he say…back-up??!"
Without saying another word, Mr Weasly rushed out of the room, and hurried down the stairs calling to Molly, clutching the letter from Harry in his hand.
Ron, was left standing in the middle of his room…'What was that all about?' He thought, '
After all, all it said was that he was in London….'
Okay guys! Thatsa it! Sorry about the really short chapter, after the huuuuge wait, trust me when i say ' writer's severe lack of talent block thingymebob'
xxxx
