A/N OMG! I am so sorry for keeping this so long…so sorry. Please forgive
me. I'll try never to let it happen again. DEATH TO HOMEWORK! DEATH TO
PROJECTS! DEATH TO TESTS! Well, this chapter's longer to make up for the
wait so please enjoy and don't forget to leave a review (however short).
Bob-hope this answers your question as to where Christmas went…yeah sorry about that slip up.
Harry was awoken the next morning by a large pillow that had been thrown at him by Ron.
"Come on, presents!" Ron bounced around the room, having seemingly forgotten the prank of last night. Harry watched the bouncing boy with interest and secretly wondered whether Fred and George had slipped him another "chocolate frog".
"Come *on*!" Another pillow assaulted him. Harry sighed theatrically and climbed out of bed. He gathered his small pile of presents and went downstairs to open them under the tree. Ron came behind him bouncing happily and eventually overtook Harry.
A moment later, Harry was infinitely grateful that Ron was in front because, as soon as he stepped into the common room, a large bucket of green goo emptied itself over his head. Ron dropped his presents and stood silently for a while dripping goo. Finally, he took a deep breath…
"FRED, GEORGE! YOU WAIT TILL I GET YOU...!"
Fred and George appeared laughing hysterically and Hermione and Ginny were giggling furiously. Ron let out a wounded bellow and charged. Chaos ensued. Ron chased Fred and George around the common room trailing goo and spraying everyone else. After a few minutes, Fred tripped over a carefully placed wire near the portrait hole and went tumbling through, pulling George and Ron with him and covering the Fat Lady in green goo in the process. The Fat Lady let out an ear-piercing shriek, causing Mrs Norris, who was passing by, to jump into Ron's arms in fright and then claw her way out. Seconds later, Filch skidded around the corner, livid with anger, and advanced upon Ron to retrieve his sorry-looking cat only to slip on the goo, bang into the wall and fall flat on his nose. Ron let go of Mrs Norris who promptly hurtled off down the corridor and the Gryffindors hastily climbed back through the portrait hole to avoid Filch's lecture and the suspicious- looking bottle of ink that was quickly making its way towards them supported by several mischievous fairies.
They clambered through and hastily shut the portrait to various raised voices ("Bloody fairies, I'm going to exterminate the whole lot of them…", "My dress Violet! Those Gryffindor's ruined my dress!"). The entire common room collapsed into laughter as a very bleary eyed Tony stumbled in, took one look at the mess, groaned and went back to bed.
After Ron had calmed down and managed to clean himself off, they sat down under the tree to unwrap their presents. As always, Harry received the customary Weasley jumper. He grinned and slipped it on, turning to Hermione's present which turned out to be a box of chocolate frogs. Ron had also gotten him sweets, although Harry didn't recognize many of them. Fred and George also sent him a box of sweets but Harry decided to try them out on Mrs Norris before he ate any himself. The appearance of a Canary Cream confirmed his suspicions. Neville, it seemed, wasn't quite so careful seeing as he burst into feathers a couple of minutes later.
They spent a pleasant hour eating sweets and talking and even, on occasion, turning into yellow feathered canaries or fluffy pink elephants which sent Fred and George off into peals of laughter. By lunch time they were brave enough to venture outside again. They were very relieved when they discovered that Filch and Mrs Norris had long since departed although the scene was still covered in goo and ink.
Christmas dinner was, as always, excellent and the House-elves had outdone themselves. Harry and the other Gryffindors sat down at the table with the teachers and began to dig in. Half way through the meal, Professor Trelawney sauntered in and sat down silently. The whole table waited expectantly for an explanation but, when none seemed forthcoming, they soon returned to the business of eating and chattering.
Fred pushed his silly hat, which resembled an armadillo, off his eyes and read off the joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"
George snorted and put on a false posh voice. "Elementary my dear Watson! The elegant fowl was on a migratory route southwards and evidently, the road lay in its way."
Ron rolled his eyes. "You've been reading far too many of those Sherbet Home books George!"
"It's Sherlock Holmes Ron and don't you dare diss it!"
Ron gave an exasperated sigh. "I wouldn't dream of it my dear man…besides, chickens don't migrate."
George frowned. "So why would the chicken cross the road? And how would you know what chickens do? You're starting to sound like Hermione! Next thing you'll be spewing us…"
Fred checked his paper and read the punch line. "To get to the other side! Um…that doesn't seem quite right. Trust muggles to come up with such a lame punch line!"
"Why would it want to get to the other side? I mean, it's not as if there's a cockerel there is it? And the chicken can't read the road signs to know where to cross safely."
"At a zebra crossing?"
By now, the teachers were listening with a mixture of amusement and, in the case of the less muggle-orientated professors, confusement.
"Why would a zebra want to cross the road?"
"To get to the other side of course!"
"No that's the chicken. The zebra's taking the chicken over."
"What's the point in that?"
"Well it's a zebra crossing. Maybe the zebra was migrating…"
Fred thought for a bit and then nodded, returning to his dinner. George grinned: they had successfully managed to baffle every teacher at the table except Trelawney who had, no doubt, seen the entire conversation earlier in her inner eye, and Snape who was frowning disapprovingly. Even Dumbledore looked a little confused and distant, as if still trying to patch the conversation together in his mind.
The Gryffindors got up from the table hiding grins and practically fled the hall to avoid the strange looks they were getting. As they were making their way back to the tower, Harry glanced out of the window.
"Hey, it's snowing!"
Identical evil grins spread across the Weasley twins' faces.
"You know what this means!"
"Snow war!"
Half an hour later, Harry lay in a hastily carved trench, clutching a newly made snowball whilst trying to avoid the barrage coming from the direction of Fred, George, Tony and Ron. Neville stood up to throw another missile only to be rewarded with a loud squelching sound and a wet face. Harry started to laugh but was cut off abruptly due to the large snowball that had inexplicably found its way into his mouth. Puzzled, he glanced up…and saw Ron wearing an innocent smile. Harry grinned, then pounced.
The result was, for the second time that day, complete an utter chaos. It took another twenty minutes for the teams to work out one snowman from another and until then, Harry and Ron were subjected to peltings from both sides. After another ten minutes, they gave up and trudged back to the tower trailing melting snow and lurking in the shadows should an unhappy Filch find them.
By the time Harry had changed into dry clothes and managed to tame his hair to a small degree, the sky outside was dark. Harry surrounded himself with his presents and lay back into the armchair, smiling as he watched Ron lose yet another game of Gobstones to Neville. Finally, the heat of the fire got to him and his eyes began to droop. Soon, he felt the warm embrace of dreamless sleep.
But it wasn't dreamless for long.
* * *
Harry found himself in a landscape he had never seen before. The wind sobbed through the trees, causing them to sway and throw shadows onto the moonlit ground. Harry looked around in confusion. Where was he? What was he doing here?
The crack of a twig caused him to whirl around, panicking. Harry stood and stared. Resting lightly on the branch of a gnarled oak tree, wings spread wide, was Fawkes. The swan-size phoenix turned to regard him with a single pearly eye. Harry watched in silence. *What the hell is going on here?*
The phoenix rose and flexed its wings, still watching him carefully. Harry watched, slightly awed, as the phoenix rose gracefully and raised its head to the night. Fawkes let out a long, clear pure note and then, inexplicably, vanished leaving behind a single red-gold feather.
Harry stared incredulously at the spot from which Fawkes had vanished. The wind died to a breeze and blew his hair awry. Harry shook himself out of his daze and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Had Fawkes really been there or was he starting to hallucinate? Cautiously, he reached out to one of the trees. It felt horrifyingly solid.
*This is a dream, it has to be. Otherwise, how did I get here?* But there was an element of doubt. Since when had he been able to *feel*things in a dream? Harry thought back to Fawkes. The bird had not seemed to be under any control or false misconceptions. So what was going on with this Order thing? He was certain, also, that Fawkes did not mean to harm him in any way. *So what is going on?*
Harry sighed and shivered as the cold night air finally penetrated his clothing. He sighed and bent down. Without thinking, he reached out and caught the floating feather inches from the ground. The world heaved and the colours blurred. Shapes became distant and indistinct. The wind picked up and hurled him forwards into the darkness. Harry had a sensation of falling before the world blackened and he lost his senses.
* * *
Remus saw the wand coming up an instant before the curse was fired.
"Crucio!"
He ducked and the spell shot past him, causing a tree to blow up. Peter snarled and muttered something incomprehensible. A jet of black light shot past Remus as he hurriedly rolled out of the way. *What the hell was that?*
"Crucio!"
The spell came again and this time he wasn't fast enough. The curse hit him in the chest and he doubled over in pain desperately trying not to cry out. Through the haze, he could see Peter laughing at him. Rage, pure and potent, welled up inside him. Here was the man who had killed Lily and James, two of his best friends. Here was the reason Harry had no parents, the reason the boy had to shoulder such a large burden. Here was the reason Sirius, an innocent man, had spent a decade in Azkaban and was now on the run.
Here was the reason Voldemort was back.
He could sense that it was going to happen before it did. He knew he should try and stop it, but the logical part of his brain was swamped with thoughts of hatred and revenge. He shuddered as he felt the first convulsion run through him, racking his bones.
The Cruciatis curse ended abruptly and Remus could see Peter's confused face. He started to morph.
The sudden comprehension on Peter's face, mixed with fear and disgust would have been humorous under other circumstances. Peter glanced up at the sky to see the full moon hanging in the sky. He stared in horror Remus' pain- racked body and realised he was transforming. Peter' eyes widened and his wand slipped from his fingers as he backed away. He knew all to well what was happening; it had happened many times before.
The arms and legs twisted, bones crunching sickeningly in the night. Hair sprouted all over the body as the face lengthened. The eyes glazed over, taking on a hint of gold and a feral look gleamed menacingly. Low growls penetrated the soft silence of the night, coupled with Wormtail's whimpers of fear and rummaging as he desperately tried to locate the wand he had dropped.
Wormtail looked up from the ground, teary eyed and found himself staring into the snarling face of a huge shaggy grey wolf. The wolf bared its teeth and growled, beginning to advance upon him. Wormtail hurriedly backed away and looked for his wand one last time before fleeing. Just his luck! The one thing that could have broken through the wolfsbane shielding was raw emotion. Wormtail sobbed as he ran. Hatred, everything boiled down to hatred when it came to him. His once friends hated him for what he had done to Lily and James. Harry hated him for killing his parents. And Voldemort loathed him for his cowardice.
And now, Wormtail had no one left to run to.
Behind him, the shrill howl of a hunting wolf cut the air.
* * *
Harry had no idea how long he had been falling, nor any comprehension of which way was up and which was done so he was immensely relieved when something solid came up to meet him. The relief was short lived, however, as he slammed into it, knocking the wind out of him.
Harry groaned and rubbed his aching side. After a moment's investigation, he discovered that he no longer possessed a wand. He reached up to try and repair his mangled glasses. The world slowly slipped back into focus and he groaned at what he saw.
He was in a wide, tall room. Torches hung at intervals along the walls, casting eerie shadows across the floor. The walls themselves were carved with strange patterns depicting nothing that he could understand. At the far end of the room stood a massive statue of a snake poised to strike, mouth open wide and fangs bared. The eyes gleamed ruby red in the flickering light.
Harry's attention, however, and long since wandered from that to the scene that confronted him or, for want of better words, surrounded him. A crowd of robed figures encircled him and what looked like a bundle of rags on the floor. His eyes briefly flickered over them and finally came to rest on the smiling visage of Voldemort who sat enthroned in the middle of the circle.
Harry sighed and stood up shakily. This had to be a dream, there was no other explanation. If Voldemort was near enough to kidnap him, his scar would have hurt horrendously.
Voldemort smirked at the trembling frame of the teenager before him. He was human after all. He indicated the room. "Welcome, Mr Potter, to my humble abode!"
Harry raised an eyebrow. *This* was humble? His brief glance took in the ornately carved walls, the spiralling pillars and the immense statue. He said nothing and stared at the snake-like man defiantly. He wasn't sure he trusted his voice right now.
Voldemort's smirk faded a little as the boy remained stonily silent. He would have to learn. Voldemort levered himself gracefully from the throne and descended the carved steps slowly until he was face to face with the boy. He frowned slightly. The boy had grown a little over the summer and could almost look him in the eyes. "Must you be taught obedience Potter or will you comply?"
Harry made no move and no sound; he simply glared at Voldemort and, much to his surprise not to mention the surprise of the Death Eaters, the red eyes lowered, breaking the gaze first. Voldemort sighed theatrically.
"Very well, have it your way...Crabbe, Goyle." Two Death Eaters stepped forward. "Bring in the *examples*." A tiny smile that chilled Harry to the bone flickered across his face. Voldemort once again turned to Harry. "Tonight Harry," he gestured grandly, "you will make a choice. How did your precious old fool put it? "You must choose between what is right and what is easy." Tonight Harry, I will let you make that choice." Harry didn't like the moronic gleam in Voldemort's eyes. "Our link grows stronger by the day and soon I will control the Order and we will meet face to face. Then I will have the infinite pleasure of…torturing you in the worst way I know how." The Death Eaters shifted in excitement and Nagini's hissing rose to a climax. "But until then I must be content with torturing you in your dreams."
Voldemort finished his somewhat disturbing speech and Harry was careful to not let any emotions show on his face. A loud bang that echoed noisily announced the return of the two Death Eaters who were dragging behind them two kicking and screaming figures.
As they were dragged nearer, Harry could see that they were a young couple. Once inside the circle, the woman let out a shriek and tried to run towards the rags in the centre whilst the man struggled furiously.
"Sarah, Sarah! No, no NO!"
Voldemort's high chilling laugh stopped the noise as the couple slowly realised who they were facing. Harry, feeling suddenly sickened, inspected the rags more carefully. He groaned inwardly as he saw a pale limp hand and a shock of red hair. It was unmistakably a young girl. And a very unconscious young girl. Harry boiled with rage.
"Is this your sick idea of a game Voldemort? Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" He instantly regretted his words but, however much he would like to, he couldn't take them back. The man and woman flinched at both the sudden outburst and the name. The man watched him curiously and with an appraising look. His eyes travelled upwards slowly to rest on his scar where they widened with comprehension.
Voldemort snarled. "You are here to be taught a lesson Potter and you will do as I say! Never answer back! Crucio!"
Harry had no warning other than the word and, as he had no defence, he doubled over in agony. He bit off a scream: he wasn't going to give that scum the satisfaction of knowing how much this hurt. The curse was ended after a short time but it seemed like an age to Harry. Slowly, he stood up and managed to keep himself from trembling too badly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the shocked and concerned faces of the couple.
Voldemort smiled like a satisfied cat and turned to the man. "The first example." He raised his wand and the man desperately tried to twist out of the way.
"Incendio!"
A blast of hot fire shot out of the end of the wand and barrelled into the man. There was a brief pause, and then the most haunting and pain-riddled screams Harry had ever heard sounded throughout the room. The man stumbled upright, flames licking at his robes and his flesh. He turned sightless bloody eyes to Harry who shivered. The woman was screaming and sobbing hysterically.
Harry felt sick and he had to fight hard to keep his food down. Voldemort was watching him carefully. Almost lazily, he flicked his wand again.
"Pyrontum."
The man's flesh started to dissolve and in seconds, he was reduced to a pile of ash leaving behind him a blood-curdling scream. The wife watched the spot incredulously and then started screaming.
Voldemort trained his wand on her. "And now, the second example." Her eyes widened with fear and disbelief. Harry shook his head. How could he just stand there doing nothing? He started to run forwards but one of the Death Eaters pointed a wand and snarled. "Petrificus," and he was rooted to the spot.
The woman's eyes widened and she tried desperately to make a run for it.
"Avada Kedavra."
There was a rushing sound and a flash of green light. The woman was dead before she reached the floor. Harry gulped. Images flashed through his mind…the same flashes of light. "No, not Harry, please not Harry," "Stand aside you silly girl!" A bright green light and then darkness. "Kill the spare," "Avada Kedavra." A thud and a spread-eagled body…. Harry shook his head clear and forced himself to look into the blood-red eyes. Voldemort's eyes widened almost imperceptibly but Harry saw it and, somehow, managed to draw strength from it.
Voldemort gestured to the small girl. "And now your choice. Will it be the first example or the second?"
Harry's heart skipped a beat and his stomach plummeted. *No* he screamed silently. *He can't make me do this!*
"I assure you Harry, that if you say nothing I will torture her in the most painful way I know before she dies. She *will* die.
"Saying nothing is easy, but is it right? Your choice…" He smiled evilly.
Harry glanced uncertainly at Voldemort. Would he really do that? *Of course he would you idiot! It's what he does!"* Harry felt tears welling up in his eyes and bile rising in his throat.
"Enervate." The young girl's eyes flickered open and gazed fearfully at Voldemort. "Mr Potter here was about to decide your fate." Her eyes flicked to Harry, upwards to his scar, widened in fear and astonishment and then travelled back to Voldemort.
Voldemort turned to Harry. "So Potter which will it be?"
Harry glanced again at the girl whose eyes remained firmly fixed on the Dark Lord. His mind was in turmoil. He didn't want to play this sick game and yet, if he didn't, she would be tortured painfully. She was going to die and Harry could see that she knew it. Amazingly, she didn't seem at all scared. Certainly, a short quick death was the best choice for her. He didn't want her in pain but he could he bring himself to order her death?
Voldemort's smirk faded slightly. It looked as if the boy wasn't going to play. He would have to be taught another lesson. But just as Voldemort was about to curse him, the boy looked directly at Voldemort, resignation and disgust written all over his face. The whisper was barely detectable but Voldemort heard it.
"Avada Kedavra…" Harry sighed and looked apologetically at the girl. She met his eyes in understanding.
There was a flash of green light, a soft thud, a cruel high laugh and then blackness…
* * *
When Ron woke up in the morning, he padded across to Harry to wake him up. He was, to say the least, astonished when he saw silent tears running down his best friend's face. Ron stared for a moment and then caught sight of something. He swore softly and ran out of the common room in search of a teacher. What he had seen had almost been enough to give him a heart attack because he knew for a fact that it had never happened before to anyone. The lightning bolt scar which Harry had had almost all his life, had split open and was now glowing green, weeping crimson blood…
And only a few miles away, a chalk-white man rose from his throne and surveyed the three bodies that littered the floor. A tiny smile curled his lips. It had begun…and Harry Potter was as good as his…
A/N Hee hee, another cliffie, even if it isn't as bad as the last but it's still quite freaky.
I know I said no more violence…but well…Moldywarts just went off and did his own thing…sorry
Okay, coming up next…Lupin arrives and maybe a quidditch match.
Thanks to all reviewers:
Bob (again)
Kerry- hey you're back, yay!
jona- thanks and keep going with DoR, Shaping the Future and especially Auriellis *stupid grin*
moodyirishbabe- glad you thought it was funny. Keep writing, it's good and I will get round to reviewing it again…
Sailor Vegeta- well here's what happened to Lupin!
Bwaye-you need to get over the fixation with calling it mouse cos its mousse. There's a very subtle difference…go look them up in a dictionary!
draicana- hope you feel better and I'm glad you think it's good.
Lizzy Black- no need to hurt me…I'm still writing *backs away nervously*oh and thanks for the story recommendations.
Ashie- glad you like it. Keep updating yours.
Gia- Peter is mean isn't he?
wapi/esmerelda-well here's more!
Hyper Pricess- thanks and sorry for the wait
elf_kitty- I think you may have slightly lost the plot…
Starlight-you're back again, yay!
I'd like to say again how profoundly sorry I am for taking this long to update. I made it extra long to make up though!
Please don't flame me about that choice thing…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
REVIEW!!!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thanks
luv baasheep
xx
If anyone wants to know when I update, let me know and I'll give you a shout
Bob-hope this answers your question as to where Christmas went…yeah sorry about that slip up.
Harry was awoken the next morning by a large pillow that had been thrown at him by Ron.
"Come on, presents!" Ron bounced around the room, having seemingly forgotten the prank of last night. Harry watched the bouncing boy with interest and secretly wondered whether Fred and George had slipped him another "chocolate frog".
"Come *on*!" Another pillow assaulted him. Harry sighed theatrically and climbed out of bed. He gathered his small pile of presents and went downstairs to open them under the tree. Ron came behind him bouncing happily and eventually overtook Harry.
A moment later, Harry was infinitely grateful that Ron was in front because, as soon as he stepped into the common room, a large bucket of green goo emptied itself over his head. Ron dropped his presents and stood silently for a while dripping goo. Finally, he took a deep breath…
"FRED, GEORGE! YOU WAIT TILL I GET YOU...!"
Fred and George appeared laughing hysterically and Hermione and Ginny were giggling furiously. Ron let out a wounded bellow and charged. Chaos ensued. Ron chased Fred and George around the common room trailing goo and spraying everyone else. After a few minutes, Fred tripped over a carefully placed wire near the portrait hole and went tumbling through, pulling George and Ron with him and covering the Fat Lady in green goo in the process. The Fat Lady let out an ear-piercing shriek, causing Mrs Norris, who was passing by, to jump into Ron's arms in fright and then claw her way out. Seconds later, Filch skidded around the corner, livid with anger, and advanced upon Ron to retrieve his sorry-looking cat only to slip on the goo, bang into the wall and fall flat on his nose. Ron let go of Mrs Norris who promptly hurtled off down the corridor and the Gryffindors hastily climbed back through the portrait hole to avoid Filch's lecture and the suspicious- looking bottle of ink that was quickly making its way towards them supported by several mischievous fairies.
They clambered through and hastily shut the portrait to various raised voices ("Bloody fairies, I'm going to exterminate the whole lot of them…", "My dress Violet! Those Gryffindor's ruined my dress!"). The entire common room collapsed into laughter as a very bleary eyed Tony stumbled in, took one look at the mess, groaned and went back to bed.
After Ron had calmed down and managed to clean himself off, they sat down under the tree to unwrap their presents. As always, Harry received the customary Weasley jumper. He grinned and slipped it on, turning to Hermione's present which turned out to be a box of chocolate frogs. Ron had also gotten him sweets, although Harry didn't recognize many of them. Fred and George also sent him a box of sweets but Harry decided to try them out on Mrs Norris before he ate any himself. The appearance of a Canary Cream confirmed his suspicions. Neville, it seemed, wasn't quite so careful seeing as he burst into feathers a couple of minutes later.
They spent a pleasant hour eating sweets and talking and even, on occasion, turning into yellow feathered canaries or fluffy pink elephants which sent Fred and George off into peals of laughter. By lunch time they were brave enough to venture outside again. They were very relieved when they discovered that Filch and Mrs Norris had long since departed although the scene was still covered in goo and ink.
Christmas dinner was, as always, excellent and the House-elves had outdone themselves. Harry and the other Gryffindors sat down at the table with the teachers and began to dig in. Half way through the meal, Professor Trelawney sauntered in and sat down silently. The whole table waited expectantly for an explanation but, when none seemed forthcoming, they soon returned to the business of eating and chattering.
Fred pushed his silly hat, which resembled an armadillo, off his eyes and read off the joke. "Why did the chicken cross the road?"
George snorted and put on a false posh voice. "Elementary my dear Watson! The elegant fowl was on a migratory route southwards and evidently, the road lay in its way."
Ron rolled his eyes. "You've been reading far too many of those Sherbet Home books George!"
"It's Sherlock Holmes Ron and don't you dare diss it!"
Ron gave an exasperated sigh. "I wouldn't dream of it my dear man…besides, chickens don't migrate."
George frowned. "So why would the chicken cross the road? And how would you know what chickens do? You're starting to sound like Hermione! Next thing you'll be spewing us…"
Fred checked his paper and read the punch line. "To get to the other side! Um…that doesn't seem quite right. Trust muggles to come up with such a lame punch line!"
"Why would it want to get to the other side? I mean, it's not as if there's a cockerel there is it? And the chicken can't read the road signs to know where to cross safely."
"At a zebra crossing?"
By now, the teachers were listening with a mixture of amusement and, in the case of the less muggle-orientated professors, confusement.
"Why would a zebra want to cross the road?"
"To get to the other side of course!"
"No that's the chicken. The zebra's taking the chicken over."
"What's the point in that?"
"Well it's a zebra crossing. Maybe the zebra was migrating…"
Fred thought for a bit and then nodded, returning to his dinner. George grinned: they had successfully managed to baffle every teacher at the table except Trelawney who had, no doubt, seen the entire conversation earlier in her inner eye, and Snape who was frowning disapprovingly. Even Dumbledore looked a little confused and distant, as if still trying to patch the conversation together in his mind.
The Gryffindors got up from the table hiding grins and practically fled the hall to avoid the strange looks they were getting. As they were making their way back to the tower, Harry glanced out of the window.
"Hey, it's snowing!"
Identical evil grins spread across the Weasley twins' faces.
"You know what this means!"
"Snow war!"
Half an hour later, Harry lay in a hastily carved trench, clutching a newly made snowball whilst trying to avoid the barrage coming from the direction of Fred, George, Tony and Ron. Neville stood up to throw another missile only to be rewarded with a loud squelching sound and a wet face. Harry started to laugh but was cut off abruptly due to the large snowball that had inexplicably found its way into his mouth. Puzzled, he glanced up…and saw Ron wearing an innocent smile. Harry grinned, then pounced.
The result was, for the second time that day, complete an utter chaos. It took another twenty minutes for the teams to work out one snowman from another and until then, Harry and Ron were subjected to peltings from both sides. After another ten minutes, they gave up and trudged back to the tower trailing melting snow and lurking in the shadows should an unhappy Filch find them.
By the time Harry had changed into dry clothes and managed to tame his hair to a small degree, the sky outside was dark. Harry surrounded himself with his presents and lay back into the armchair, smiling as he watched Ron lose yet another game of Gobstones to Neville. Finally, the heat of the fire got to him and his eyes began to droop. Soon, he felt the warm embrace of dreamless sleep.
But it wasn't dreamless for long.
* * *
Harry found himself in a landscape he had never seen before. The wind sobbed through the trees, causing them to sway and throw shadows onto the moonlit ground. Harry looked around in confusion. Where was he? What was he doing here?
The crack of a twig caused him to whirl around, panicking. Harry stood and stared. Resting lightly on the branch of a gnarled oak tree, wings spread wide, was Fawkes. The swan-size phoenix turned to regard him with a single pearly eye. Harry watched in silence. *What the hell is going on here?*
The phoenix rose and flexed its wings, still watching him carefully. Harry watched, slightly awed, as the phoenix rose gracefully and raised its head to the night. Fawkes let out a long, clear pure note and then, inexplicably, vanished leaving behind a single red-gold feather.
Harry stared incredulously at the spot from which Fawkes had vanished. The wind died to a breeze and blew his hair awry. Harry shook himself out of his daze and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Had Fawkes really been there or was he starting to hallucinate? Cautiously, he reached out to one of the trees. It felt horrifyingly solid.
*This is a dream, it has to be. Otherwise, how did I get here?* But there was an element of doubt. Since when had he been able to *feel*things in a dream? Harry thought back to Fawkes. The bird had not seemed to be under any control or false misconceptions. So what was going on with this Order thing? He was certain, also, that Fawkes did not mean to harm him in any way. *So what is going on?*
Harry sighed and shivered as the cold night air finally penetrated his clothing. He sighed and bent down. Without thinking, he reached out and caught the floating feather inches from the ground. The world heaved and the colours blurred. Shapes became distant and indistinct. The wind picked up and hurled him forwards into the darkness. Harry had a sensation of falling before the world blackened and he lost his senses.
* * *
Remus saw the wand coming up an instant before the curse was fired.
"Crucio!"
He ducked and the spell shot past him, causing a tree to blow up. Peter snarled and muttered something incomprehensible. A jet of black light shot past Remus as he hurriedly rolled out of the way. *What the hell was that?*
"Crucio!"
The spell came again and this time he wasn't fast enough. The curse hit him in the chest and he doubled over in pain desperately trying not to cry out. Through the haze, he could see Peter laughing at him. Rage, pure and potent, welled up inside him. Here was the man who had killed Lily and James, two of his best friends. Here was the reason Harry had no parents, the reason the boy had to shoulder such a large burden. Here was the reason Sirius, an innocent man, had spent a decade in Azkaban and was now on the run.
Here was the reason Voldemort was back.
He could sense that it was going to happen before it did. He knew he should try and stop it, but the logical part of his brain was swamped with thoughts of hatred and revenge. He shuddered as he felt the first convulsion run through him, racking his bones.
The Cruciatis curse ended abruptly and Remus could see Peter's confused face. He started to morph.
The sudden comprehension on Peter's face, mixed with fear and disgust would have been humorous under other circumstances. Peter glanced up at the sky to see the full moon hanging in the sky. He stared in horror Remus' pain- racked body and realised he was transforming. Peter' eyes widened and his wand slipped from his fingers as he backed away. He knew all to well what was happening; it had happened many times before.
The arms and legs twisted, bones crunching sickeningly in the night. Hair sprouted all over the body as the face lengthened. The eyes glazed over, taking on a hint of gold and a feral look gleamed menacingly. Low growls penetrated the soft silence of the night, coupled with Wormtail's whimpers of fear and rummaging as he desperately tried to locate the wand he had dropped.
Wormtail looked up from the ground, teary eyed and found himself staring into the snarling face of a huge shaggy grey wolf. The wolf bared its teeth and growled, beginning to advance upon him. Wormtail hurriedly backed away and looked for his wand one last time before fleeing. Just his luck! The one thing that could have broken through the wolfsbane shielding was raw emotion. Wormtail sobbed as he ran. Hatred, everything boiled down to hatred when it came to him. His once friends hated him for what he had done to Lily and James. Harry hated him for killing his parents. And Voldemort loathed him for his cowardice.
And now, Wormtail had no one left to run to.
Behind him, the shrill howl of a hunting wolf cut the air.
* * *
Harry had no idea how long he had been falling, nor any comprehension of which way was up and which was done so he was immensely relieved when something solid came up to meet him. The relief was short lived, however, as he slammed into it, knocking the wind out of him.
Harry groaned and rubbed his aching side. After a moment's investigation, he discovered that he no longer possessed a wand. He reached up to try and repair his mangled glasses. The world slowly slipped back into focus and he groaned at what he saw.
He was in a wide, tall room. Torches hung at intervals along the walls, casting eerie shadows across the floor. The walls themselves were carved with strange patterns depicting nothing that he could understand. At the far end of the room stood a massive statue of a snake poised to strike, mouth open wide and fangs bared. The eyes gleamed ruby red in the flickering light.
Harry's attention, however, and long since wandered from that to the scene that confronted him or, for want of better words, surrounded him. A crowd of robed figures encircled him and what looked like a bundle of rags on the floor. His eyes briefly flickered over them and finally came to rest on the smiling visage of Voldemort who sat enthroned in the middle of the circle.
Harry sighed and stood up shakily. This had to be a dream, there was no other explanation. If Voldemort was near enough to kidnap him, his scar would have hurt horrendously.
Voldemort smirked at the trembling frame of the teenager before him. He was human after all. He indicated the room. "Welcome, Mr Potter, to my humble abode!"
Harry raised an eyebrow. *This* was humble? His brief glance took in the ornately carved walls, the spiralling pillars and the immense statue. He said nothing and stared at the snake-like man defiantly. He wasn't sure he trusted his voice right now.
Voldemort's smirk faded a little as the boy remained stonily silent. He would have to learn. Voldemort levered himself gracefully from the throne and descended the carved steps slowly until he was face to face with the boy. He frowned slightly. The boy had grown a little over the summer and could almost look him in the eyes. "Must you be taught obedience Potter or will you comply?"
Harry made no move and no sound; he simply glared at Voldemort and, much to his surprise not to mention the surprise of the Death Eaters, the red eyes lowered, breaking the gaze first. Voldemort sighed theatrically.
"Very well, have it your way...Crabbe, Goyle." Two Death Eaters stepped forward. "Bring in the *examples*." A tiny smile that chilled Harry to the bone flickered across his face. Voldemort once again turned to Harry. "Tonight Harry," he gestured grandly, "you will make a choice. How did your precious old fool put it? "You must choose between what is right and what is easy." Tonight Harry, I will let you make that choice." Harry didn't like the moronic gleam in Voldemort's eyes. "Our link grows stronger by the day and soon I will control the Order and we will meet face to face. Then I will have the infinite pleasure of…torturing you in the worst way I know how." The Death Eaters shifted in excitement and Nagini's hissing rose to a climax. "But until then I must be content with torturing you in your dreams."
Voldemort finished his somewhat disturbing speech and Harry was careful to not let any emotions show on his face. A loud bang that echoed noisily announced the return of the two Death Eaters who were dragging behind them two kicking and screaming figures.
As they were dragged nearer, Harry could see that they were a young couple. Once inside the circle, the woman let out a shriek and tried to run towards the rags in the centre whilst the man struggled furiously.
"Sarah, Sarah! No, no NO!"
Voldemort's high chilling laugh stopped the noise as the couple slowly realised who they were facing. Harry, feeling suddenly sickened, inspected the rags more carefully. He groaned inwardly as he saw a pale limp hand and a shock of red hair. It was unmistakably a young girl. And a very unconscious young girl. Harry boiled with rage.
"Is this your sick idea of a game Voldemort? Why don't you pick on someone your own size?" He instantly regretted his words but, however much he would like to, he couldn't take them back. The man and woman flinched at both the sudden outburst and the name. The man watched him curiously and with an appraising look. His eyes travelled upwards slowly to rest on his scar where they widened with comprehension.
Voldemort snarled. "You are here to be taught a lesson Potter and you will do as I say! Never answer back! Crucio!"
Harry had no warning other than the word and, as he had no defence, he doubled over in agony. He bit off a scream: he wasn't going to give that scum the satisfaction of knowing how much this hurt. The curse was ended after a short time but it seemed like an age to Harry. Slowly, he stood up and managed to keep himself from trembling too badly. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the shocked and concerned faces of the couple.
Voldemort smiled like a satisfied cat and turned to the man. "The first example." He raised his wand and the man desperately tried to twist out of the way.
"Incendio!"
A blast of hot fire shot out of the end of the wand and barrelled into the man. There was a brief pause, and then the most haunting and pain-riddled screams Harry had ever heard sounded throughout the room. The man stumbled upright, flames licking at his robes and his flesh. He turned sightless bloody eyes to Harry who shivered. The woman was screaming and sobbing hysterically.
Harry felt sick and he had to fight hard to keep his food down. Voldemort was watching him carefully. Almost lazily, he flicked his wand again.
"Pyrontum."
The man's flesh started to dissolve and in seconds, he was reduced to a pile of ash leaving behind him a blood-curdling scream. The wife watched the spot incredulously and then started screaming.
Voldemort trained his wand on her. "And now, the second example." Her eyes widened with fear and disbelief. Harry shook his head. How could he just stand there doing nothing? He started to run forwards but one of the Death Eaters pointed a wand and snarled. "Petrificus," and he was rooted to the spot.
The woman's eyes widened and she tried desperately to make a run for it.
"Avada Kedavra."
There was a rushing sound and a flash of green light. The woman was dead before she reached the floor. Harry gulped. Images flashed through his mind…the same flashes of light. "No, not Harry, please not Harry," "Stand aside you silly girl!" A bright green light and then darkness. "Kill the spare," "Avada Kedavra." A thud and a spread-eagled body…. Harry shook his head clear and forced himself to look into the blood-red eyes. Voldemort's eyes widened almost imperceptibly but Harry saw it and, somehow, managed to draw strength from it.
Voldemort gestured to the small girl. "And now your choice. Will it be the first example or the second?"
Harry's heart skipped a beat and his stomach plummeted. *No* he screamed silently. *He can't make me do this!*
"I assure you Harry, that if you say nothing I will torture her in the most painful way I know before she dies. She *will* die.
"Saying nothing is easy, but is it right? Your choice…" He smiled evilly.
Harry glanced uncertainly at Voldemort. Would he really do that? *Of course he would you idiot! It's what he does!"* Harry felt tears welling up in his eyes and bile rising in his throat.
"Enervate." The young girl's eyes flickered open and gazed fearfully at Voldemort. "Mr Potter here was about to decide your fate." Her eyes flicked to Harry, upwards to his scar, widened in fear and astonishment and then travelled back to Voldemort.
Voldemort turned to Harry. "So Potter which will it be?"
Harry glanced again at the girl whose eyes remained firmly fixed on the Dark Lord. His mind was in turmoil. He didn't want to play this sick game and yet, if he didn't, she would be tortured painfully. She was going to die and Harry could see that she knew it. Amazingly, she didn't seem at all scared. Certainly, a short quick death was the best choice for her. He didn't want her in pain but he could he bring himself to order her death?
Voldemort's smirk faded slightly. It looked as if the boy wasn't going to play. He would have to be taught another lesson. But just as Voldemort was about to curse him, the boy looked directly at Voldemort, resignation and disgust written all over his face. The whisper was barely detectable but Voldemort heard it.
"Avada Kedavra…" Harry sighed and looked apologetically at the girl. She met his eyes in understanding.
There was a flash of green light, a soft thud, a cruel high laugh and then blackness…
* * *
When Ron woke up in the morning, he padded across to Harry to wake him up. He was, to say the least, astonished when he saw silent tears running down his best friend's face. Ron stared for a moment and then caught sight of something. He swore softly and ran out of the common room in search of a teacher. What he had seen had almost been enough to give him a heart attack because he knew for a fact that it had never happened before to anyone. The lightning bolt scar which Harry had had almost all his life, had split open and was now glowing green, weeping crimson blood…
And only a few miles away, a chalk-white man rose from his throne and surveyed the three bodies that littered the floor. A tiny smile curled his lips. It had begun…and Harry Potter was as good as his…
A/N Hee hee, another cliffie, even if it isn't as bad as the last but it's still quite freaky.
I know I said no more violence…but well…Moldywarts just went off and did his own thing…sorry
Okay, coming up next…Lupin arrives and maybe a quidditch match.
Thanks to all reviewers:
Bob (again)
Kerry- hey you're back, yay!
jona- thanks and keep going with DoR, Shaping the Future and especially Auriellis *stupid grin*
moodyirishbabe- glad you thought it was funny. Keep writing, it's good and I will get round to reviewing it again…
Sailor Vegeta- well here's what happened to Lupin!
Bwaye-you need to get over the fixation with calling it mouse cos its mousse. There's a very subtle difference…go look them up in a dictionary!
draicana- hope you feel better and I'm glad you think it's good.
Lizzy Black- no need to hurt me…I'm still writing *backs away nervously*oh and thanks for the story recommendations.
Ashie- glad you like it. Keep updating yours.
Gia- Peter is mean isn't he?
wapi/esmerelda-well here's more!
Hyper Pricess- thanks and sorry for the wait
elf_kitty- I think you may have slightly lost the plot…
Starlight-you're back again, yay!
I'd like to say again how profoundly sorry I am for taking this long to update. I made it extra long to make up though!
Please don't flame me about that choice thing…
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
REVIEW!!!!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Thanks
luv baasheep
xx
If anyone wants to know when I update, let me know and I'll give you a shout