- Chapter Three: A New Discovery -
Harry was hunched over, hands clasped tightly together. His brows were furrowed, his unkempt shaggy jet black hair fell over to his forehead. His deeply emerald colored eyes were obviously deep in thought. His robes lay next to him, he was in simple muggle clothing at the moment -- worn jeans, trainers, and a shirt with a Quidditch logo on it. His glasses remain on the bridge of his nose. "Mum.. Dad.. I won -- No, we won. I did it. Just for you," his voice was a mere whisper among all the havoc going around the Ministry Building.
Ginny Weasley shuffled into the room, eyes trained on Harry. She felt somewhat ashamed to have to witness his tender moment.. or whatever it was. She swallowed. Without thinking, she tugged gently at a strand of his silky black hair, her usual greeting, reserved for him only. It would do for a 'hello'. She stood in front of him, a hand on his hand. Letting her hand slide off his head, she licked her parched lips. Words seemed a bit to.. petty at the moment. She could feel herself flush. She could see him tingeing a faint pink. It was not embarrassment, she knew. It was as if you were discovered doing something wrong.
Impulsively, she grabbed his hand and yanked at his hand before he or she could speak. Her robe had been abandoned a pair of denims and a jumper. Hogwarts was closed due to heavy damage during the attacks. It would open, eventually in November. She could feel herself tugging at his hand until he reluctantly shuffled to his feet to follow after her.
Harry looked at Ginny for a second, before following after her. He could see the difference in her. Then again, anybody could have if they cared to look close enough. She looked pinched. Her cheeks were still tear stained, though she had tried to make it look otherwise. He could see how loose the jumper was. He distinctly remembered her wearing that on the first Hogsmeade trip of his seventh year. She was walking with Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown. Laughing. Happy. Carefree.
He continued to follow after her lead, her hands holding his tightly. His heart went out to her. Losing Ron should have crushed her. He was fairly sure it did. At least she kept a brave face. He could see that they were going to go out of the building. Both of them walked out, hands still clasped together. He looked gravely down at her as she impatiently tugged at him.
Harry walked a bit faster, so she'd stop tugging. He wondered how such a skinny girl could have so much strength. She let her pace slow a bit. Her eyes were trained on the ground. Cups full of butterbeer, firewhiskey and whatever else was littered on the ground -- a sign of the recent celebrations. Harry's eyes were scanning the area. Small groups of people were clumped together, whispering joyously. They turned to Harry, who averted his eyes. He hated this. Ginny saw and tugged him faster, to a bench located by a small public garden. She pushed him unceremoniously on the bench and plopped down next to him. "You look like your going to drop dead," she said, without taking any pains at all to word it carefully.
Good old Ginny...
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They were on top of each other, pummeling each other with their fists. She could see some droplets of blood on the floor. Her eyes widened, her hands clenching and unclenching. What was Malfoy up to this time!?
She could see that now the redhead covered the white-blonde haired boy. He was smacking, pummeling, and being smacked and pummeled. She could see blood pouring down from the light haired boys temple. His robes were thrown off, as were the redheaded boy's robes. "Stop! Get off him!" she yelled, not exactly sure who she was yelling at.
She heard the rip of a sleeve, and a soft grunt. She heard the sickening crunch of bones. She wondered if they even heard her. The light haired boy rolled out from the red-haired man, springing up. She heard a soft gasp come from her mouth. Draco was covered in bruises and blood. His hair was tousled, she could see a bump on his head, and a scratch down his cheek. She had not yet seen the face of the redheaded man.
The man turned, so he back was to Hermione. He was three feet away from Draco. "You will die in the hands of the Dark Lord," he whispered, coldly. Draco leapt at him, kicking and punching, until he was smacked. Hermione winced, she could hear the sickening sound of the cracking of bones again. She pushed herself to move, but she just couldn't.
The only thought that filled her mind was that of anger at Draco. Fighting? He was a Death Eater! She was sure of it! She looked at the back of the redheaded man. Her head lurched, her heart constricted.
She heard the hiss of words. However, Draco's lips were not the ones that spoke the words.
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Harry's thin lips twisted into his former smile. It was a wry, bashful smile that Ginny used to love because she was taken with him. Now she loved it because it was that of a friend. A very good friend. "Don't flatter me, Gin," he gave a slight, rueful grin. He looked at the girl who watched as a leaf lazily made its journey, spiraling gracefully downwards, catching air as it descended. Drifting down, it made temporary residence in the long fingers of a certain lightly freckled, red haired girl. Her artistically articulate fingers made contact with the leaf, denting it slightly. The frown etched into her visage just moments ago drifted away as she turned the leaf over in her hands, letting a finger trace the stem of it. Letting the near perfect leaf drift away, she turned to him, grave look still living in her eyes.
"You haven't eaten today."
Uncomfortable pause.
"You know it, too."
A stiff sigh.
"Harry James Potter, talk to me!"
He turned to her. "Gin.. I'm not hungry."
She snorted but remained quiet. He could see she was holding in words. He grinned faintly.
"-You- haven't eaten today."
She stared at her hands, folded in her lap. "I know," she whispered softly. She looked as if she were going to cry.
"Aw, Gin. Lets go eat something," he mumbled, awkwardly. How did she always manage to turn the tables on him and Ron..? Ron. The name caused a thud in his heart. He stared at the girl next to him, that so closely resembled to Ron, the closest person he had to a brother.
She nodded. Getting up with him, she unconsciously slid her fingers in his hand, sighing softly. Quietly, both of them entered a small bakery-like shop. She looked up at Harry. "You order," she muttered, tonelessly. Harry nodded. She slid weakly into a seat. She was thinking of Ron, too. She felt her heart twist as if a cold hand had clenched itself around it. She breathed in deeply, calming herself.
They sat by the window table, talking quietly about anything but the war. They laughed softly over the poem she wrote just as she had started Hogwarts, though the blush on her cheeks was almost as red as her hair.
"Its been good, Gin." he said, quietly.
"Yes, Harry. It has."
They both smiled over faraway strings of much lighter memories.
--------
She could see Draco's wiry body, curled up in a bloody, messy heap. It did not look right, they way he looked dead. They way that his arm was twisted in the oddest angle. The way the signature smirk was not plastered onto his face. It seemed as she was immobile. She could feel all of her mind screaming with intensity. She needed to get to Draco. She needed to get away.. but she just couldn't. She could see the mysterious man turn to her, his hateful, piercing eyes staring into her own cinnamon colored eyes.
She could see his sleeve was ripped to reveal a pale, skinny arm. Her eyes dropped to the ugly gash, shudders running through her body. The Dark Mark was branded into his arm. It looked like a gash of black against the purest of white.
Her mouth opened slightly to see the raw, pure, unbridled hate in his eyes for her. He stepped forward to her, a sneer curled up, much like a duplicate of Malfoy's familiar sneer.
Her eyes widened furthermore, her gentle, soft cinnamon colored eyes dripping the very epitome of fear. Her voice was a soft, scratchy whisper that seemed to pound back in her head.
"..Percy?"
--------
A/N:
Let the Evil!Percy come out of his shell. Nope, he wasn't holed up in his room for no reason, right? Anyways. Tell me what you think! I wrote the second and third chapters in one day. Oo; I'm such a little dork.
Read and Review!
-Kiran-
--------
Harry was hunched over, hands clasped tightly together. His brows were furrowed, his unkempt shaggy jet black hair fell over to his forehead. His deeply emerald colored eyes were obviously deep in thought. His robes lay next to him, he was in simple muggle clothing at the moment -- worn jeans, trainers, and a shirt with a Quidditch logo on it. His glasses remain on the bridge of his nose. "Mum.. Dad.. I won -- No, we won. I did it. Just for you," his voice was a mere whisper among all the havoc going around the Ministry Building.
Ginny Weasley shuffled into the room, eyes trained on Harry. She felt somewhat ashamed to have to witness his tender moment.. or whatever it was. She swallowed. Without thinking, she tugged gently at a strand of his silky black hair, her usual greeting, reserved for him only. It would do for a 'hello'. She stood in front of him, a hand on his hand. Letting her hand slide off his head, she licked her parched lips. Words seemed a bit to.. petty at the moment. She could feel herself flush. She could see him tingeing a faint pink. It was not embarrassment, she knew. It was as if you were discovered doing something wrong.
Impulsively, she grabbed his hand and yanked at his hand before he or she could speak. Her robe had been abandoned a pair of denims and a jumper. Hogwarts was closed due to heavy damage during the attacks. It would open, eventually in November. She could feel herself tugging at his hand until he reluctantly shuffled to his feet to follow after her.
Harry looked at Ginny for a second, before following after her. He could see the difference in her. Then again, anybody could have if they cared to look close enough. She looked pinched. Her cheeks were still tear stained, though she had tried to make it look otherwise. He could see how loose the jumper was. He distinctly remembered her wearing that on the first Hogsmeade trip of his seventh year. She was walking with Seamus Finnigan and Lavender Brown. Laughing. Happy. Carefree.
He continued to follow after her lead, her hands holding his tightly. His heart went out to her. Losing Ron should have crushed her. He was fairly sure it did. At least she kept a brave face. He could see that they were going to go out of the building. Both of them walked out, hands still clasped together. He looked gravely down at her as she impatiently tugged at him.
Harry walked a bit faster, so she'd stop tugging. He wondered how such a skinny girl could have so much strength. She let her pace slow a bit. Her eyes were trained on the ground. Cups full of butterbeer, firewhiskey and whatever else was littered on the ground -- a sign of the recent celebrations. Harry's eyes were scanning the area. Small groups of people were clumped together, whispering joyously. They turned to Harry, who averted his eyes. He hated this. Ginny saw and tugged him faster, to a bench located by a small public garden. She pushed him unceremoniously on the bench and plopped down next to him. "You look like your going to drop dead," she said, without taking any pains at all to word it carefully.
Good old Ginny...
--------
They were on top of each other, pummeling each other with their fists. She could see some droplets of blood on the floor. Her eyes widened, her hands clenching and unclenching. What was Malfoy up to this time!?
She could see that now the redhead covered the white-blonde haired boy. He was smacking, pummeling, and being smacked and pummeled. She could see blood pouring down from the light haired boys temple. His robes were thrown off, as were the redheaded boy's robes. "Stop! Get off him!" she yelled, not exactly sure who she was yelling at.
She heard the rip of a sleeve, and a soft grunt. She heard the sickening crunch of bones. She wondered if they even heard her. The light haired boy rolled out from the red-haired man, springing up. She heard a soft gasp come from her mouth. Draco was covered in bruises and blood. His hair was tousled, she could see a bump on his head, and a scratch down his cheek. She had not yet seen the face of the redheaded man.
The man turned, so he back was to Hermione. He was three feet away from Draco. "You will die in the hands of the Dark Lord," he whispered, coldly. Draco leapt at him, kicking and punching, until he was smacked. Hermione winced, she could hear the sickening sound of the cracking of bones again. She pushed herself to move, but she just couldn't.
The only thought that filled her mind was that of anger at Draco. Fighting? He was a Death Eater! She was sure of it! She looked at the back of the redheaded man. Her head lurched, her heart constricted.
She heard the hiss of words. However, Draco's lips were not the ones that spoke the words.
--------
Harry's thin lips twisted into his former smile. It was a wry, bashful smile that Ginny used to love because she was taken with him. Now she loved it because it was that of a friend. A very good friend. "Don't flatter me, Gin," he gave a slight, rueful grin. He looked at the girl who watched as a leaf lazily made its journey, spiraling gracefully downwards, catching air as it descended. Drifting down, it made temporary residence in the long fingers of a certain lightly freckled, red haired girl. Her artistically articulate fingers made contact with the leaf, denting it slightly. The frown etched into her visage just moments ago drifted away as she turned the leaf over in her hands, letting a finger trace the stem of it. Letting the near perfect leaf drift away, she turned to him, grave look still living in her eyes.
"You haven't eaten today."
Uncomfortable pause.
"You know it, too."
A stiff sigh.
"Harry James Potter, talk to me!"
He turned to her. "Gin.. I'm not hungry."
She snorted but remained quiet. He could see she was holding in words. He grinned faintly.
"-You- haven't eaten today."
She stared at her hands, folded in her lap. "I know," she whispered softly. She looked as if she were going to cry.
"Aw, Gin. Lets go eat something," he mumbled, awkwardly. How did she always manage to turn the tables on him and Ron..? Ron. The name caused a thud in his heart. He stared at the girl next to him, that so closely resembled to Ron, the closest person he had to a brother.
She nodded. Getting up with him, she unconsciously slid her fingers in his hand, sighing softly. Quietly, both of them entered a small bakery-like shop. She looked up at Harry. "You order," she muttered, tonelessly. Harry nodded. She slid weakly into a seat. She was thinking of Ron, too. She felt her heart twist as if a cold hand had clenched itself around it. She breathed in deeply, calming herself.
They sat by the window table, talking quietly about anything but the war. They laughed softly over the poem she wrote just as she had started Hogwarts, though the blush on her cheeks was almost as red as her hair.
"Its been good, Gin." he said, quietly.
"Yes, Harry. It has."
They both smiled over faraway strings of much lighter memories.
--------
She could see Draco's wiry body, curled up in a bloody, messy heap. It did not look right, they way he looked dead. They way that his arm was twisted in the oddest angle. The way the signature smirk was not plastered onto his face. It seemed as she was immobile. She could feel all of her mind screaming with intensity. She needed to get to Draco. She needed to get away.. but she just couldn't. She could see the mysterious man turn to her, his hateful, piercing eyes staring into her own cinnamon colored eyes.
She could see his sleeve was ripped to reveal a pale, skinny arm. Her eyes dropped to the ugly gash, shudders running through her body. The Dark Mark was branded into his arm. It looked like a gash of black against the purest of white.
Her mouth opened slightly to see the raw, pure, unbridled hate in his eyes for her. He stepped forward to her, a sneer curled up, much like a duplicate of Malfoy's familiar sneer.
Her eyes widened furthermore, her gentle, soft cinnamon colored eyes dripping the very epitome of fear. Her voice was a soft, scratchy whisper that seemed to pound back in her head.
"..Percy?"
--------
A/N:
Let the Evil!Percy come out of his shell. Nope, he wasn't holed up in his room for no reason, right? Anyways. Tell me what you think! I wrote the second and third chapters in one day. Oo; I'm such a little dork.
Read and Review!
-Kiran-
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