Who Is Harry Potter, Anyway?
Marisa rested her head on her crossed arms. Binns was droning on and on, not even noticing that Erica and Tess were passing notes, or that Sam was doing his Potions homework.
"So," Binns said in a nasal voice "that's why we should all give a big thanks to Harry Potter." He paused, as if waiting for applause.
Marisa closed her eyes. 'Why should I care about some dead guy? It's not like he had anything to do with me.' With a sigh, she got up and left the classroom, not noticing that the rest of the class had vanished.
In the corner there was a boy curled up, hugging his knees. He was coughing blood and his body was limp. The boy looked up and then, she saw it.
A lightning scar across his forehead.
Marisa's jaw practially jumped out of her mouth. "Hey," she gasped. "You're dead!"
Harry smiled weakly. "Not yet, he whispered. Suddenly, he coughed extra violently, blood covering his jeans and hands.
Marisa bent down and stared at him. Then, a look of realization came across her face. Slowly, she rose.
"You ca-ca-can't be real. You must be some…" she paused and rubbed her forehead. "What am I doing here…I have to get to class…" Marisa looked at Harry for a second longer, shook her head, then ran down the corridor.
Behind her, Harry blinked slowly. Once. Twice.
Only, the second time, his eyes didn't open
---------------------------------------------------
'Must be some strange peverted dream.' As soon as she had run away, the hallway had dissolved into the interior of a pub. There were many wizards hudled around tables. Many of them turned at her entrance.
"Hey!"the owner called from the back counter. "Aren't you kinda young to be-"
Marisa interupted, tears in her eyes. "No! Wait! There's a boy…Harry Potter…He's-"
"Well duh he's hurt," some wise-wizard called out. "He's dead." Laughter filled the pub.
The owner frowned. "I asked you a question, girl. "Where's your papers?"
Marisa looked blankly at all of the wizards. "What?" she started, but then the door opened and in stepped the one and only Dark Lord.
"This one," he murmered, red eyes glinting from under his hood. "Has dealt with the One-Who-Is-Not-Named.
Gasps. People began crying out punishments.
"Burn her!"
"Drown her!"
"Kill her!"
"Torture her!"
Marisa fell to her knees, holding out her hands pleadingly. The wizards rose, bringing out their wands and began to chant.
'If only I had helped dream-Harry!' She thought. "He would've killed the Dark One and none of this would have happened.
Then, she blacked out.
-------------------------------------------------------
Marisa woke with a start, sweating and crying. She jumped to her feet in the middle of class and yelled, "I'm sorry! I didn't know, Harry! Please forgive me!"
Binns stepped forward, frowning. "Ahem," he creaked. "Harry Potter may forgive you, but I still would like to see you after class."
Marisa rested her head on her crossed arms. Binns was droning on and on, not even noticing that Erica and Tess were passing notes, or that Sam was doing his Potions homework.
"So," Binns said in a nasal voice "that's why we should all give a big thanks to Harry Potter." He paused, as if waiting for applause.
Marisa closed her eyes. 'Why should I care about some dead guy? It's not like he had anything to do with me.' With a sigh, she got up and left the classroom, not noticing that the rest of the class had vanished.
In the corner there was a boy curled up, hugging his knees. He was coughing blood and his body was limp. The boy looked up and then, she saw it.
A lightning scar across his forehead.
Marisa's jaw practially jumped out of her mouth. "Hey," she gasped. "You're dead!"
Harry smiled weakly. "Not yet, he whispered. Suddenly, he coughed extra violently, blood covering his jeans and hands.
Marisa bent down and stared at him. Then, a look of realization came across her face. Slowly, she rose.
"You ca-ca-can't be real. You must be some…" she paused and rubbed her forehead. "What am I doing here…I have to get to class…" Marisa looked at Harry for a second longer, shook her head, then ran down the corridor.
Behind her, Harry blinked slowly. Once. Twice.
Only, the second time, his eyes didn't open
---------------------------------------------------
'Must be some strange peverted dream.' As soon as she had run away, the hallway had dissolved into the interior of a pub. There were many wizards hudled around tables. Many of them turned at her entrance.
"Hey!"the owner called from the back counter. "Aren't you kinda young to be-"
Marisa interupted, tears in her eyes. "No! Wait! There's a boy…Harry Potter…He's-"
"Well duh he's hurt," some wise-wizard called out. "He's dead." Laughter filled the pub.
The owner frowned. "I asked you a question, girl. "Where's your papers?"
Marisa looked blankly at all of the wizards. "What?" she started, but then the door opened and in stepped the one and only Dark Lord.
"This one," he murmered, red eyes glinting from under his hood. "Has dealt with the One-Who-Is-Not-Named.
Gasps. People began crying out punishments.
"Burn her!"
"Drown her!"
"Kill her!"
"Torture her!"
Marisa fell to her knees, holding out her hands pleadingly. The wizards rose, bringing out their wands and began to chant.
'If only I had helped dream-Harry!' She thought. "He would've killed the Dark One and none of this would have happened.
Then, she blacked out.
-------------------------------------------------------
Marisa woke with a start, sweating and crying. She jumped to her feet in the middle of class and yelled, "I'm sorry! I didn't know, Harry! Please forgive me!"
Binns stepped forward, frowning. "Ahem," he creaked. "Harry Potter may forgive you, but I still would like to see you after class."