Chapter 9
Yea, another chapter.
Chapter 9
Evil Gryffies.
Harry walked down to the Great Hall and sat at the end of the table were no one was. He wanted to be alone for once. He grabbed a biscuit and his schedule and left to a quieter place. Defense Against the Dark Arts now, he'd just go wait there. He wondered who the new teacher was. . .
He sat at a desk and munched his biscuit. Suddenly he ran outside to the nearest bathroom and puked. It tasted disgusting! D*** those Gryffindors, haven't they tortured him enough for one week? Obviously not. . .
"Okay class, I am your new DADA, do you mind me saying that? Well I am Hannah Harbor, your new professor. Today we will be studying dueling. Does anyone want to stage a duel?"
No one raised their hand.
"Okay. . . I'll do it the easy way," she waved her wand around the room. She then let go and it circled the room. A few seconds later she said "Stop."
A the wand stopped and the words Harry Potter formed.
"Harry Potter come up please!" Harder called.
Harry walked up and stood.
"Harry, who do you want to duel against?" she asked.
He glared around the room menacingly. Everyone cowered in their seats.
He turned to Harder and announced, "Ronald Weasley."
Ron went pale and walked up. They stood ready.
"One," Harder announced, "two, three!"
Before Ron could react, Harry yelled, "Durus Salus!" Ron turned around and puked. Big mistake. Harry yelled, "Stupefy!" and Ron fell flat on his face.
"Good job, Harry," Harder praised.
"Enerverate," Harry said and he glared at Ron until he sat down.
"Harry, since you won, pick your next candidate,"
"Hermione Granger," Harry sighed before he began dueling.
**************************************************************************** ******
Harry walked to his next lesson. He had had a great time dueling. He had dueled everyone in the class and hadn't lost once. He had set Parvati and Lavenders hair on fire. He had made Dean sound and look like a girl. He had made Seamus only able to yap like a hungry dog. He had made Hermione speak only in rhymes, he had made Neville have the urge to keep fit. Ah. . . that was the day.
**************************************************************************** ******
Harry moaned. Today was not his day. During potions, Hermione had 'accidentally' dumped Burning Bitterroot Poison on his head. In Charms Ron had banished Harry right out the window and into the lake and, claiming it was an accident, 'his wand had slipped', hadn't gotten in trouble. Harry groaned. Tonight was going to be pure torture. It was.
**************************************************************************** ******
Harry trudged up to Gryffindor Tower after dinner. He hadn't been able to eat anything because the Gryffindors had set his food aflame. He went to his dormitory and waited for the Gryffindors to attack him.
Harry heard footsteps. He knew they were coming. Harry sighed and they came in.
"Mobilicourpus!" Hermione cried and Harry rose up and Ron called,
"Non Cado!" Harry found himself fastened to the ceiling.
"Indicendo," Parvati and Lavender cried. Harry was burning. He knew it was impossible to get away so he accepted it.
"Noceo!" a voice said. Harry was in deep pain. Harry pulled free of his bindings and fell to the ground. He stood up and glared at all the Gryffindors and pulled out his wand.
"Finite Icantactiam!" he yelled, "Lacarnum Inflamore!" a ring of fire sped at the Gryffindors. They scattered and Harry grinned, and fainted.
Hermione sneaked back in and said, "Contineo." And went off to bed. . .
**************************************************************************** ******
June 8th
Harry woke up and brushed off his robes. He went and got his things and, while everyone was asleep, he went and ate a peaceful breakfast, and studied his schedule. Even though he had been there for about nine months, he still didn't know where to go all of the time.
"Dang, Divination this afternoon," he said. He went back and thought about the year.
This year had been torture for him. He had been burnt, and put under countless curses. They hardly hurt him anymore, though, because he was so used to it. He had gotten hardly anything for Christmas because he had no friends.
He hated Ron and Hermione. They were the ring-leaders of the Gryffindors. He couldn't believe how so nice people could turn so evil so soon.
His eyes had developed a fiery blaze when being threatened. He could scare off a pack of Hippogriffs with them. Hedwig was not like she used to be. Only Harry could pet her. She was overprotective of him.
Being off the Quidditch team had helped him a lot. Well. . . he still missed it, but to keep in shape he conjured weights and lifted them, and he studied a lot more. Potions was now his best subject, and he could turn a Hippogriff into a dog with a flick of his wand. He had also passed the O.W.L.S.
Harry was a silent young man who's eyes looked as though they could pierce human skin. He didn't need to say anything to do spells. He could just flick his wand and a spell would shoot out. He practiced flying a lot to. He was a miraculous flyer. He could fly his Firebolt at full speed on his feet. He could fly with his hands on the handle and swing around while going.
After all he had ever been through he had never cried. He could probably take the pain of the Crutatious and not make a sound.
So that morning Harry walked out of the Hall and walked straight into Ron Weasley.
"Y-" Ron began but with on glare of Harry's, he shut up.
Harry doubted if he could ever forgive Ron and Hermione. Or Dean, Seamus, Neville, Parvati, or Lavender for that matter.
Harry walked out of the Hall. It was the last time Harry would ever exit it.
**************************************************************************** ******
No one knew, but Harry had developed a talent for Divination. He could see in crystal balls, read tarot cards, understand palmistry, and see in tea- leaves. He was good at it but he really didn't like it, so he would sit in the back, reading his palms sometimes or just thinking.
This time, though, he was thinking.
'Voldemort hasn't done anything since his rebirth. Wonder what he's up to.' He spoke too soon. . . Just then his scar hurt. . . He was there.
**************************************************************************** ******
oooooooooooooooooooooo Volde's there. What's going to happen?
Reviewers. . .
Yea, another chapter.
Chapter 9
Evil Gryffies.
Harry walked down to the Great Hall and sat at the end of the table were no one was. He wanted to be alone for once. He grabbed a biscuit and his schedule and left to a quieter place. Defense Against the Dark Arts now, he'd just go wait there. He wondered who the new teacher was. . .
He sat at a desk and munched his biscuit. Suddenly he ran outside to the nearest bathroom and puked. It tasted disgusting! D*** those Gryffindors, haven't they tortured him enough for one week? Obviously not. . .
"Okay class, I am your new DADA, do you mind me saying that? Well I am Hannah Harbor, your new professor. Today we will be studying dueling. Does anyone want to stage a duel?"
No one raised their hand.
"Okay. . . I'll do it the easy way," she waved her wand around the room. She then let go and it circled the room. A few seconds later she said "Stop."
A the wand stopped and the words Harry Potter formed.
"Harry Potter come up please!" Harder called.
Harry walked up and stood.
"Harry, who do you want to duel against?" she asked.
He glared around the room menacingly. Everyone cowered in their seats.
He turned to Harder and announced, "Ronald Weasley."
Ron went pale and walked up. They stood ready.
"One," Harder announced, "two, three!"
Before Ron could react, Harry yelled, "Durus Salus!" Ron turned around and puked. Big mistake. Harry yelled, "Stupefy!" and Ron fell flat on his face.
"Good job, Harry," Harder praised.
"Enerverate," Harry said and he glared at Ron until he sat down.
"Harry, since you won, pick your next candidate,"
"Hermione Granger," Harry sighed before he began dueling.
**************************************************************************** ******
Harry walked to his next lesson. He had had a great time dueling. He had dueled everyone in the class and hadn't lost once. He had set Parvati and Lavenders hair on fire. He had made Dean sound and look like a girl. He had made Seamus only able to yap like a hungry dog. He had made Hermione speak only in rhymes, he had made Neville have the urge to keep fit. Ah. . . that was the day.
**************************************************************************** ******
Harry moaned. Today was not his day. During potions, Hermione had 'accidentally' dumped Burning Bitterroot Poison on his head. In Charms Ron had banished Harry right out the window and into the lake and, claiming it was an accident, 'his wand had slipped', hadn't gotten in trouble. Harry groaned. Tonight was going to be pure torture. It was.
**************************************************************************** ******
Harry trudged up to Gryffindor Tower after dinner. He hadn't been able to eat anything because the Gryffindors had set his food aflame. He went to his dormitory and waited for the Gryffindors to attack him.
Harry heard footsteps. He knew they were coming. Harry sighed and they came in.
"Mobilicourpus!" Hermione cried and Harry rose up and Ron called,
"Non Cado!" Harry found himself fastened to the ceiling.
"Indicendo," Parvati and Lavender cried. Harry was burning. He knew it was impossible to get away so he accepted it.
"Noceo!" a voice said. Harry was in deep pain. Harry pulled free of his bindings and fell to the ground. He stood up and glared at all the Gryffindors and pulled out his wand.
"Finite Icantactiam!" he yelled, "Lacarnum Inflamore!" a ring of fire sped at the Gryffindors. They scattered and Harry grinned, and fainted.
Hermione sneaked back in and said, "Contineo." And went off to bed. . .
**************************************************************************** ******
June 8th
Harry woke up and brushed off his robes. He went and got his things and, while everyone was asleep, he went and ate a peaceful breakfast, and studied his schedule. Even though he had been there for about nine months, he still didn't know where to go all of the time.
"Dang, Divination this afternoon," he said. He went back and thought about the year.
This year had been torture for him. He had been burnt, and put under countless curses. They hardly hurt him anymore, though, because he was so used to it. He had gotten hardly anything for Christmas because he had no friends.
He hated Ron and Hermione. They were the ring-leaders of the Gryffindors. He couldn't believe how so nice people could turn so evil so soon.
His eyes had developed a fiery blaze when being threatened. He could scare off a pack of Hippogriffs with them. Hedwig was not like she used to be. Only Harry could pet her. She was overprotective of him.
Being off the Quidditch team had helped him a lot. Well. . . he still missed it, but to keep in shape he conjured weights and lifted them, and he studied a lot more. Potions was now his best subject, and he could turn a Hippogriff into a dog with a flick of his wand. He had also passed the O.W.L.S.
Harry was a silent young man who's eyes looked as though they could pierce human skin. He didn't need to say anything to do spells. He could just flick his wand and a spell would shoot out. He practiced flying a lot to. He was a miraculous flyer. He could fly his Firebolt at full speed on his feet. He could fly with his hands on the handle and swing around while going.
After all he had ever been through he had never cried. He could probably take the pain of the Crutatious and not make a sound.
So that morning Harry walked out of the Hall and walked straight into Ron Weasley.
"Y-" Ron began but with on glare of Harry's, he shut up.
Harry doubted if he could ever forgive Ron and Hermione. Or Dean, Seamus, Neville, Parvati, or Lavender for that matter.
Harry walked out of the Hall. It was the last time Harry would ever exit it.
**************************************************************************** ******
No one knew, but Harry had developed a talent for Divination. He could see in crystal balls, read tarot cards, understand palmistry, and see in tea- leaves. He was good at it but he really didn't like it, so he would sit in the back, reading his palms sometimes or just thinking.
This time, though, he was thinking.
'Voldemort hasn't done anything since his rebirth. Wonder what he's up to.' He spoke too soon. . . Just then his scar hurt. . . He was there.
**************************************************************************** ******
oooooooooooooooooooooo Volde's there. What's going to happen?
Reviewers. . .