A/N After this there probably won't be anymore for a while cos I have to do
my homework (groans).
There's going to be a brief change of POV in this chapter so enjoy!
Thank you to bluejay08, I do like creative reviews. It's quite sad really: you wouldn't believe the way my heart leaps every time I see I have another review…ahem-now to the story.
Harry ate a hurried lunch before making his way to the top of the tower where Divination took place. The room was stuffy, purple smoke rolled in gusts from the fireplace and stank the room out. The glittering insect that was Professor Trelawney sat comfortably entombed in her massive armchair. She watched the class carefully as they walked in and sat down in a circle around her.
Harry chose a bean bag that wasn't pink or purple and sank down next to Neville and Ron. If he had been expecting another foresight into his early death, he was not disappointed. After keeping the class silent for five minutes by gazing at them in a forlorn manner, Professor Trelawney informed them that her crystal ball and told her that she should teach them lampadomancy.
According to the Professor, lampadomancy was one of the oldest forms of divination and consisted of telling the future from the shape of a lamp flame. It had been invented by the Greeks and was one of the most accurate forms of divination which, as Ron pointed out ten minutes later whilst they were gazing into flickering flames, didn't say an awful lot for the accuracy of the art.
After providing the class with a lamp each, Professor Trelawney swept around occasionally peering into one or two of the lamps. Harry had the awful feeling that she was skimming over everyone else so that she could arrive at his and enjoy the first "death" of the year.
Harry, Ron and Neville had shoved themselves as far into the corner as possible without making it too obvious that they were trying to hide. The three of them sat there in silence burning their eyes out and trying to ignore the frequent glares that Lavender and Parvati shot in their direction. Ron gave up with a groan and flung himself back rubbing his eyes. Neville and Harry soon followed suite.
"See anything?" asked Neville.
Ron snorted. "Only that either there's going to be a fire soon or I'm going to see tiny little flames dancing over my vision for the rest of the day."
Harry nodded in silent agreement and reached forwards to extinguish the flames. Before he had got anywhere near them, however, Professor Trelawney shrieked and, with a speed that denied her age, raced across the room to slap his hand away. Harry drew his hand back and rubbed it surreptitiously under the table, frowning. He watched with an ever sinking heart as she picked up his lamp and turned it round, looking at it carefully.
"Hmm, this is an interesting flame. So bright and lively, it dances with life and yet gives off death," she opened the tiny door a little wider to allow the black smoke to escape, "a very interesting flame indeed." She paused and seemed to consider for a second.
Behind her the rest of the class crowded round to see better. Lavender whispered furiously to Parvati and then turned to the Professor.
"Um, Professor what does it show?"
Harry shot her a glare; he had hoped that he might be able to avoid this. Professor Trelawney lifted the lamp up higher and squinted at it. Suddenly, the flame inside shrank in size and then guttered out completely leaving a tiny line of grey smoke weaving around the lamp. Professor Trelawney shrieked and dropped the lamp. It fell to the floor and crashed with a loud bang, showering the room in tiny slithers of broken glass. The class fell silent. Professor Trelawney bent down and carefully cleared the glass away to reveal the soot underneath.
The entire class, with the exception of Harry, Ron and Neville who couldn't see, gasped and took an involuntary step backwards. Harry craned to see. The lamp had landed on the floor in such a way that the soot had spilt over the carpet in a strange pattern. From what he could see, it was a black and white image of a pair of slitted eyes staring directly at him. Harry suddenly felt sick; he didn't need to wonder like the others. His mind had already filled in the eyes red: Voldemort was gazing straight at him.
Professor Trelawney swept up the soot with a dust pan and brush, then sank into her armchair and shut her eyes. Everyone cast furtive looks at Harry who desperately tried to sink into the floor. Finally, the Professor opened her eyes and looked at Lavender.
"That flame was not a happy flame," she paused and glanced at Harry, "very unhappy, much like its owner." Harry could feel his face burning as the class turned to give him sympathetic looks. "When a flame dies without extinguishing, it can mean only one thing…" she fixed Harry with a meaningful look, "the owner of the flame will suffer from great pain and then, eventually, he will die."
Harry actually felt quite relieved. The fact that he was protected at Hogwarts settled itself snugly in his mind and reminded him that he couldn't be tortured by Voldemort, not here. And what Professor Trelawney predicted certainly seemed better than a few of the ways he had imagined himself dying. Harry made sure that she could see him and then, very pointedly, rolled his eyes.
Unfortunately, Professor Trelawney didn't see him. She had leant back again. Her eyes stared unfocused at the wall opposite her. Lavender looked at her worriedly and waved a hand in front of her. Harry had a familiar feeling…
Professor Trelawney's eyes started to roll, her mouth sagged. She spoke in a harsh loud voice:
"There is a snake in the grass. If the lion runs, Hogwarts will fall to the Lord. If the lion stands the hunting hound of the sky will fall. The Order of the Phoenix is rising, the Dark is rising. Time is running out, the race begins." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Beware the mists."
Her head fell onto her chest and she took a shuddering breath. The class waited tentatively, but she seemed to have fallen asleep. The bell sounded. Professor Trelawney continued to sleep peacefully. The class left quietly and very much bewildered.
Later, Ron tried to persuade Hermione for the millionth time that what they had seen was not, as Hermione claimed, "woolly." "I'm telling you, Hermione, you had to be there. She-she went all strange, kinda like a trance, and she predicted all this stuff…it was, well…weird."
Hermione looked up from her arithmancy book and gave him a queer look. "Really Ron. In the third year you yourself said it was all rubbish. You didn't believe Harry then."
Ron was taken aback. "Well, I wasn't there then was I! You can't expect me to know everything Hermione."
Hermione slammed her book shut. "I wouldn't dream of it Ron!" She turned to Harry. "It seems to me that Harry is the only one who can say for sure. He saw it two years ago. Why don't you ask him Ron?" She turned and stormed upstairs to the Gryffindor dormitory.
Ron stared after her, mouth agape. "Well, of all the…all I said was…Fine, she can have it that way if she wants." Ron turned and, he too, stormed off upstairs.
Harry watched him go with only half a mind to stop him. He hadn't really been listening. He was thinking about Professor Trelawney's prediction. He was sure it was real; it had been exactly the same two years ago and that one had come true. Harry turned the problem over in his mind. He didn't have a clue who or what the lion was not to mention a snake in the grass or the hunting dog of the sky, but it was clear to him that if the lion, whoever or whatever it was, made the wrong choice, Hogwarts would fall to Voldemort. He shuddered at the very thought.
Harry glanced around the room and then at the clock. It was getting quite late and he was tired; it had been an eventful day. The Weasley twins were huddled in a corner, wands at the ready and making small explosions. Harry had a strange idea that they were making more jokes things. Neville sat by the fire, a book about herbology resting on his lap and Angelina sat at the far end muttering to herself and looking incredibly like the fanatical Oliver Wood. Harry sighed and picked himself up. He went upstairs, undressed, lay down and started to drift off to sleep.
His last thoughts were of the prediction and then, quite suddenly, he thought that Dumbledore ought to know. *I can tell him in the morning* He drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Harry found himself in a place he had never been before. It was obviously day because the sun was up, but the colours were dark and drab so that it looked more like night. The landscape was barren: there were no buildings or trees in sight and from what Harry could see, there was no life either.
"Welcome Harry Potter to the future, my future…"
The hackles, on the back of his neck rose ever so slightly and he turned, already knowing what he was going to see…
* * *
Ron was woken by a large warm weight that landed suddenly on his stomach. Choking, he sat up and, without thinking, pushed the whatever-it-was away. There was a thud, a hiss, a loud yelp, and a tearing sound as the curtains surrounding his bed were torn down.
Surprised and slightly scared, Ron looked down. Crookshanks' large wide eyes peered up at him innocently. The cat disentangled itself from the curtains, padded towards the door and then stopped looking back at him. He wanted Ron to follow him. Ron sighed heavily, then clambered out of bed and followed it to the door way. "If Hermione let you in, I'm going to kill her…" He stopped as he saw what Crookshanks had wanted him to see. Harry was walking slowly down the corridor, eyes shut; he was sleep-walking…
* * *
…Voldemort! He would know that voice anywhere. Voldemort was smiling with anticipation. Harry took a slow step backwards.
"Don't worry Harry Potter. I shan't kill you, not yet anyway. All I want is to show you the future." He waved a hand and the scene disappeared.
This one was as barren and non-descript as the last one. The sky was, thankfully, normal and the colours had likewise been returned to their ordinary state. The soil beneath Harry's feet shifted slightly. A ring of Death Eaters apparated not three feet away from him. Harry jumped violently, but they didn't seem to notice. Their attention was focused on a small bundle of rags in the centre of the circle. Harry's heart froze as he realised what that small bundle of rags was.
* * *
"Harry, Harry, what are you doing?" Ron called after him. But Harry didn't answer, he didn't even acknowledge Ron's presence. Ron shivered; he didn't like this at all. Crookshanks hurried past him following Harry. Ron hesitated for a brief second and then followed.
* * *
Albus Dumbledore woke with the feeling that something was tremendously wrong. Frowning, he got out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown and slippers and made for the door. He opened it and then swept out of the room. He paused for a brief second in the corridor before making his way swiftly and silently down the spiralling staircase. He had a horrible feeling that this had something to do with Harry Potter.
* * *
Ron was finding it hard to keep up with Harry. Although Harry was walking he managed to cover ground much faster than Ron. As if that wasn't enough, Harry continuously disappeared down secret passages than Ron never knew existed. Ron was worried: something was seriously wrong.
* * *
It was Sirius. Harry let out a strangled yell and tried to run forward to help his Godfather but he found that his legs wouldn't move. He looked at Voldemort who was smiling like a satisfied cat. Harry stopped trying to run forward. Voldemort started to laugh at him. Harry could feel tears of frustration running down his face. Voldemort stopped laughing to consider him.
"You would make a fine Death Eater. Perhaps, instead of killing you I will merely turn you to the Dark Arts. We will see. Take a good look at the future Harry Potter. You wouldn't want Black to die would you? Make the right choice." He lifted his head and laughed to the night sky.
Harry stood, unable to do anything, watching as the Dark Lord scorned him and his Godfather. The tears continued to pour down his face…
* * *
Ron was surprised when he finally caught up with Harry. There were tears all over Harry's face. *My God what the hell is happening?* Ron didn't want to try and wake Harry; he knew that it could hurt Harry if he tried. He watched, helpless, as Harry's face became indifferent again and he started to move along the corridor once more. Ron glanced at his watch briefly: it was five thirty in the morning and he desperately needed the loo.
* * *
Albus Dumbledore made his way as quickly as he could to the second floor. Somehow, he knew where Harry would be. He glanced at his wrist watch. It was five thirty in the morning and he had an exceptionally full bladder…
* * *
Harry turned, burning with hatred, to Lord Voldemort. He only vaguely noticed the large snake that was curled up at the Dark Lord's feet and the man who stood one step behind him with a silver hand.
Suddenly, Voldemort stopped laughing and looked at him curiously. Harry noticed the tiny hint of fear in the red eyes. *Why is he afraid of me?* But he didn't have time to think on it. Voldemort lifted his wand and, next second, Harry was engulfed in a wave of pain.
* * *
Ron could only stare as a door materialised not far from where Harry was standing. Without hesitation, Harry reached for the door handle and stepped in. Ron hurried to catch up. Once inside the room, he couldn't but help stare. Lining every wall was a massive collection of chamber pots. Harry, however, ignored these and made straight for the wall at the opposite end where there was a tiny patch of bare wall. Ron followed slowly. He stopped just behind Harry and peered around Harry's body to see better. Harry held out his right hand to the wall and laid his palm on the rough surface. Ron gaped as he saw the unmistakeable image of Fawkes the Phoenix emerge from beneath Harry's hand.
At that point someone ran into the room. Ron whirled around and came face to face with Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore took in the events with a single sweep of the eye and marched forwards to Harry muttering something about Voldemort. Ron backed away: he didn't like the angry glint of steel in the Headmaster's eyes.
Before Dumbledore even reached Harry however, Harry pulled his hand away from the wall and clapped it instead to his scar. He collapsed to the ground and writhed screaming in agony. Dumbledore was beside him in two short strides and supported him.
Ron ran forwards and watched anxiously as Dumbledore checked his best friend for signs of life. As far as he could determine, Harry wasn't breathing…
A/N
MUHAHAHH, CLIFFIE!!!!
Please restrain any flame throwing at this moment.
So to recap…Malfoy is repeating Voldemort, Prof, Trelawney has made her third real prediction, Sirius is (maybe) in the hands of Voldemort and Voldemort is threatening to turn Harry to the Dark Side, that is of course if Harry survives, heh heh.
Oh, I am evil I know.
You probably saw straight through the prediction but I'm not very good at that sort of stuff and it serves the purpose.
I hope you realised the reference to the chamber pot room. In book 4 Dumbledore claims that one morning he found a room that contained a collection of chamber pots. I quote "When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep out an eye for it. Possible it is only accessible at five thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon- or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."
Please review and tell me what you think or I might threaten not to continue the story…nah I couldn't do that but really
PLEASE REVIEW
Luv baasheep
Xx
PS If anyone wants to know when I update give me your email address and I'll email you lol ^_^
There's going to be a brief change of POV in this chapter so enjoy!
Thank you to bluejay08, I do like creative reviews. It's quite sad really: you wouldn't believe the way my heart leaps every time I see I have another review…ahem-now to the story.
Harry ate a hurried lunch before making his way to the top of the tower where Divination took place. The room was stuffy, purple smoke rolled in gusts from the fireplace and stank the room out. The glittering insect that was Professor Trelawney sat comfortably entombed in her massive armchair. She watched the class carefully as they walked in and sat down in a circle around her.
Harry chose a bean bag that wasn't pink or purple and sank down next to Neville and Ron. If he had been expecting another foresight into his early death, he was not disappointed. After keeping the class silent for five minutes by gazing at them in a forlorn manner, Professor Trelawney informed them that her crystal ball and told her that she should teach them lampadomancy.
According to the Professor, lampadomancy was one of the oldest forms of divination and consisted of telling the future from the shape of a lamp flame. It had been invented by the Greeks and was one of the most accurate forms of divination which, as Ron pointed out ten minutes later whilst they were gazing into flickering flames, didn't say an awful lot for the accuracy of the art.
After providing the class with a lamp each, Professor Trelawney swept around occasionally peering into one or two of the lamps. Harry had the awful feeling that she was skimming over everyone else so that she could arrive at his and enjoy the first "death" of the year.
Harry, Ron and Neville had shoved themselves as far into the corner as possible without making it too obvious that they were trying to hide. The three of them sat there in silence burning their eyes out and trying to ignore the frequent glares that Lavender and Parvati shot in their direction. Ron gave up with a groan and flung himself back rubbing his eyes. Neville and Harry soon followed suite.
"See anything?" asked Neville.
Ron snorted. "Only that either there's going to be a fire soon or I'm going to see tiny little flames dancing over my vision for the rest of the day."
Harry nodded in silent agreement and reached forwards to extinguish the flames. Before he had got anywhere near them, however, Professor Trelawney shrieked and, with a speed that denied her age, raced across the room to slap his hand away. Harry drew his hand back and rubbed it surreptitiously under the table, frowning. He watched with an ever sinking heart as she picked up his lamp and turned it round, looking at it carefully.
"Hmm, this is an interesting flame. So bright and lively, it dances with life and yet gives off death," she opened the tiny door a little wider to allow the black smoke to escape, "a very interesting flame indeed." She paused and seemed to consider for a second.
Behind her the rest of the class crowded round to see better. Lavender whispered furiously to Parvati and then turned to the Professor.
"Um, Professor what does it show?"
Harry shot her a glare; he had hoped that he might be able to avoid this. Professor Trelawney lifted the lamp up higher and squinted at it. Suddenly, the flame inside shrank in size and then guttered out completely leaving a tiny line of grey smoke weaving around the lamp. Professor Trelawney shrieked and dropped the lamp. It fell to the floor and crashed with a loud bang, showering the room in tiny slithers of broken glass. The class fell silent. Professor Trelawney bent down and carefully cleared the glass away to reveal the soot underneath.
The entire class, with the exception of Harry, Ron and Neville who couldn't see, gasped and took an involuntary step backwards. Harry craned to see. The lamp had landed on the floor in such a way that the soot had spilt over the carpet in a strange pattern. From what he could see, it was a black and white image of a pair of slitted eyes staring directly at him. Harry suddenly felt sick; he didn't need to wonder like the others. His mind had already filled in the eyes red: Voldemort was gazing straight at him.
Professor Trelawney swept up the soot with a dust pan and brush, then sank into her armchair and shut her eyes. Everyone cast furtive looks at Harry who desperately tried to sink into the floor. Finally, the Professor opened her eyes and looked at Lavender.
"That flame was not a happy flame," she paused and glanced at Harry, "very unhappy, much like its owner." Harry could feel his face burning as the class turned to give him sympathetic looks. "When a flame dies without extinguishing, it can mean only one thing…" she fixed Harry with a meaningful look, "the owner of the flame will suffer from great pain and then, eventually, he will die."
Harry actually felt quite relieved. The fact that he was protected at Hogwarts settled itself snugly in his mind and reminded him that he couldn't be tortured by Voldemort, not here. And what Professor Trelawney predicted certainly seemed better than a few of the ways he had imagined himself dying. Harry made sure that she could see him and then, very pointedly, rolled his eyes.
Unfortunately, Professor Trelawney didn't see him. She had leant back again. Her eyes stared unfocused at the wall opposite her. Lavender looked at her worriedly and waved a hand in front of her. Harry had a familiar feeling…
Professor Trelawney's eyes started to roll, her mouth sagged. She spoke in a harsh loud voice:
"There is a snake in the grass. If the lion runs, Hogwarts will fall to the Lord. If the lion stands the hunting hound of the sky will fall. The Order of the Phoenix is rising, the Dark is rising. Time is running out, the race begins." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Beware the mists."
Her head fell onto her chest and she took a shuddering breath. The class waited tentatively, but she seemed to have fallen asleep. The bell sounded. Professor Trelawney continued to sleep peacefully. The class left quietly and very much bewildered.
Later, Ron tried to persuade Hermione for the millionth time that what they had seen was not, as Hermione claimed, "woolly." "I'm telling you, Hermione, you had to be there. She-she went all strange, kinda like a trance, and she predicted all this stuff…it was, well…weird."
Hermione looked up from her arithmancy book and gave him a queer look. "Really Ron. In the third year you yourself said it was all rubbish. You didn't believe Harry then."
Ron was taken aback. "Well, I wasn't there then was I! You can't expect me to know everything Hermione."
Hermione slammed her book shut. "I wouldn't dream of it Ron!" She turned to Harry. "It seems to me that Harry is the only one who can say for sure. He saw it two years ago. Why don't you ask him Ron?" She turned and stormed upstairs to the Gryffindor dormitory.
Ron stared after her, mouth agape. "Well, of all the…all I said was…Fine, she can have it that way if she wants." Ron turned and, he too, stormed off upstairs.
Harry watched him go with only half a mind to stop him. He hadn't really been listening. He was thinking about Professor Trelawney's prediction. He was sure it was real; it had been exactly the same two years ago and that one had come true. Harry turned the problem over in his mind. He didn't have a clue who or what the lion was not to mention a snake in the grass or the hunting dog of the sky, but it was clear to him that if the lion, whoever or whatever it was, made the wrong choice, Hogwarts would fall to Voldemort. He shuddered at the very thought.
Harry glanced around the room and then at the clock. It was getting quite late and he was tired; it had been an eventful day. The Weasley twins were huddled in a corner, wands at the ready and making small explosions. Harry had a strange idea that they were making more jokes things. Neville sat by the fire, a book about herbology resting on his lap and Angelina sat at the far end muttering to herself and looking incredibly like the fanatical Oliver Wood. Harry sighed and picked himself up. He went upstairs, undressed, lay down and started to drift off to sleep.
His last thoughts were of the prediction and then, quite suddenly, he thought that Dumbledore ought to know. *I can tell him in the morning* He drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Harry found himself in a place he had never been before. It was obviously day because the sun was up, but the colours were dark and drab so that it looked more like night. The landscape was barren: there were no buildings or trees in sight and from what Harry could see, there was no life either.
"Welcome Harry Potter to the future, my future…"
The hackles, on the back of his neck rose ever so slightly and he turned, already knowing what he was going to see…
* * *
Ron was woken by a large warm weight that landed suddenly on his stomach. Choking, he sat up and, without thinking, pushed the whatever-it-was away. There was a thud, a hiss, a loud yelp, and a tearing sound as the curtains surrounding his bed were torn down.
Surprised and slightly scared, Ron looked down. Crookshanks' large wide eyes peered up at him innocently. The cat disentangled itself from the curtains, padded towards the door and then stopped looking back at him. He wanted Ron to follow him. Ron sighed heavily, then clambered out of bed and followed it to the door way. "If Hermione let you in, I'm going to kill her…" He stopped as he saw what Crookshanks had wanted him to see. Harry was walking slowly down the corridor, eyes shut; he was sleep-walking…
* * *
…Voldemort! He would know that voice anywhere. Voldemort was smiling with anticipation. Harry took a slow step backwards.
"Don't worry Harry Potter. I shan't kill you, not yet anyway. All I want is to show you the future." He waved a hand and the scene disappeared.
This one was as barren and non-descript as the last one. The sky was, thankfully, normal and the colours had likewise been returned to their ordinary state. The soil beneath Harry's feet shifted slightly. A ring of Death Eaters apparated not three feet away from him. Harry jumped violently, but they didn't seem to notice. Their attention was focused on a small bundle of rags in the centre of the circle. Harry's heart froze as he realised what that small bundle of rags was.
* * *
"Harry, Harry, what are you doing?" Ron called after him. But Harry didn't answer, he didn't even acknowledge Ron's presence. Ron shivered; he didn't like this at all. Crookshanks hurried past him following Harry. Ron hesitated for a brief second and then followed.
* * *
Albus Dumbledore woke with the feeling that something was tremendously wrong. Frowning, he got out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown and slippers and made for the door. He opened it and then swept out of the room. He paused for a brief second in the corridor before making his way swiftly and silently down the spiralling staircase. He had a horrible feeling that this had something to do with Harry Potter.
* * *
Ron was finding it hard to keep up with Harry. Although Harry was walking he managed to cover ground much faster than Ron. As if that wasn't enough, Harry continuously disappeared down secret passages than Ron never knew existed. Ron was worried: something was seriously wrong.
* * *
It was Sirius. Harry let out a strangled yell and tried to run forward to help his Godfather but he found that his legs wouldn't move. He looked at Voldemort who was smiling like a satisfied cat. Harry stopped trying to run forward. Voldemort started to laugh at him. Harry could feel tears of frustration running down his face. Voldemort stopped laughing to consider him.
"You would make a fine Death Eater. Perhaps, instead of killing you I will merely turn you to the Dark Arts. We will see. Take a good look at the future Harry Potter. You wouldn't want Black to die would you? Make the right choice." He lifted his head and laughed to the night sky.
Harry stood, unable to do anything, watching as the Dark Lord scorned him and his Godfather. The tears continued to pour down his face…
* * *
Ron was surprised when he finally caught up with Harry. There were tears all over Harry's face. *My God what the hell is happening?* Ron didn't want to try and wake Harry; he knew that it could hurt Harry if he tried. He watched, helpless, as Harry's face became indifferent again and he started to move along the corridor once more. Ron glanced at his watch briefly: it was five thirty in the morning and he desperately needed the loo.
* * *
Albus Dumbledore made his way as quickly as he could to the second floor. Somehow, he knew where Harry would be. He glanced at his wrist watch. It was five thirty in the morning and he had an exceptionally full bladder…
* * *
Harry turned, burning with hatred, to Lord Voldemort. He only vaguely noticed the large snake that was curled up at the Dark Lord's feet and the man who stood one step behind him with a silver hand.
Suddenly, Voldemort stopped laughing and looked at him curiously. Harry noticed the tiny hint of fear in the red eyes. *Why is he afraid of me?* But he didn't have time to think on it. Voldemort lifted his wand and, next second, Harry was engulfed in a wave of pain.
* * *
Ron could only stare as a door materialised not far from where Harry was standing. Without hesitation, Harry reached for the door handle and stepped in. Ron hurried to catch up. Once inside the room, he couldn't but help stare. Lining every wall was a massive collection of chamber pots. Harry, however, ignored these and made straight for the wall at the opposite end where there was a tiny patch of bare wall. Ron followed slowly. He stopped just behind Harry and peered around Harry's body to see better. Harry held out his right hand to the wall and laid his palm on the rough surface. Ron gaped as he saw the unmistakeable image of Fawkes the Phoenix emerge from beneath Harry's hand.
At that point someone ran into the room. Ron whirled around and came face to face with Professor Dumbledore. Dumbledore took in the events with a single sweep of the eye and marched forwards to Harry muttering something about Voldemort. Ron backed away: he didn't like the angry glint of steel in the Headmaster's eyes.
Before Dumbledore even reached Harry however, Harry pulled his hand away from the wall and clapped it instead to his scar. He collapsed to the ground and writhed screaming in agony. Dumbledore was beside him in two short strides and supported him.
Ron ran forwards and watched anxiously as Dumbledore checked his best friend for signs of life. As far as he could determine, Harry wasn't breathing…
A/N
MUHAHAHH, CLIFFIE!!!!
Please restrain any flame throwing at this moment.
So to recap…Malfoy is repeating Voldemort, Prof, Trelawney has made her third real prediction, Sirius is (maybe) in the hands of Voldemort and Voldemort is threatening to turn Harry to the Dark Side, that is of course if Harry survives, heh heh.
Oh, I am evil I know.
You probably saw straight through the prediction but I'm not very good at that sort of stuff and it serves the purpose.
I hope you realised the reference to the chamber pot room. In book 4 Dumbledore claims that one morning he found a room that contained a collection of chamber pots. I quote "When I went back to investigate more closely, I discovered that the room had vanished. But I must keep out an eye for it. Possible it is only accessible at five thirty in the morning. Or it may only appear at the quarter moon- or when the seeker has an exceptionally full bladder."
Please review and tell me what you think or I might threaten not to continue the story…nah I couldn't do that but really
PLEASE REVIEW
Luv baasheep
Xx
PS If anyone wants to know when I update give me your email address and I'll email you lol ^_^