An; sorry about how boring last chapter was. I had to tie up some loose
ends.
If I had a list of your names I would quote it, seriously I luv u guys.(not
in that way you sick people!) plz review. Its drawing to a close. Can u
tell??
TAKE NOTE!!! There is torture in this one. Sorry, had to happen. There m medium level detail though so don't read if u don't think you can handle it.
Here we go.
Harry Potter and the beginning of the end chapter 19 zoinks!
Harry slipped in and out of consciousness, often dreaming, never really sleeping. He would wake to fid himself still hanging there, with nothing but the echo's of his own screams reverberating through the room. Pansy and her friend stared at him, whenever they were awake, but they disappeared often, and always for hours.
He didn't know how long he hung there, his arms aching and his glasses askew. It seemed like forever. His wrists were slowly rubbed raw, and the blood trickling down his arms tickled and sometime he wanted to scream because he couldn't wipe the blood away. Once Pansy and her friend came back screaming, and lay on the ground at the door sobbing. Harry tried to talk to them; to ask them what was wrong, but his tongue was thick and dry and wouldn't work.
The worst thing though, was the hunger. It slowly became the worst feeling he had ever experienced. His stomach grumbled. It roared in the silence. His head began to ache and he longed for just one mouthful of water. Just one.
The door opened. Harry turned his head as much as possible. He couldn't make out the figure in the door way, his eyes hurt; it had been days since he had needed to see anything besides darkness.
"Cut him down." The voice was low, angry and unfamiliar.
Another figure stepped past the first and Harry felt his bonds give way. He fell to the floor, and his legs, unused by now to weight collapsed. The second figure hauled him to his feet and dragged him out the door. Harry glanced over his shoulder as he went, and saw Pansy Parkinsons frightened face. Then the door swung shut.
They questioned him for hours. He sat in the chair, ad simply repeated "I don't know." Again and again and again. Then they tied him down with ropes and dripped water in his eyes. He didn't mind because every now and then the water would dribble into his mouth. Then they dripped something else into his eyes and he screamed, he screamed until his voice broke apart. All through it a voice kept telling him that the pain would go away, as soon as he told them what they wanted to know. So he told them. He told them that he had tried to sneak into Hogsmead for a butter beer. And they bought it. They bought it without even once looking at his forehead, without once looking at the thing that would have made their boss very proud of them, very proud of them indeed.
Then they didn't need him.
He was dragged out into the sunlight. He was in house, in a field, it was a bright day. There was a forest nearby. The figures threw him onto the gravel path that led to the gate of the fence that surrounded the property, and he slid for a second on his cheek before stopping. There he lay. For a long time. Actually, Harry didn't even know that, all he knew was that he passed out, and when he woke the back of his neck was burning from sunburn. It was night. He tried to sit up, but his arms and legs failed him. He lay where he was and prayed silently.
There was a crunch of gravel, a footstep coming his way. Harry turned his head, looked along the pat and saw two luminous cat eyes glowing in the dark. Without fully knowing why, he reached for the cat.
"Tabby." He whispered, his throat constricted and it came out as more of a croak he was trying to remember where he knew the cat from. He had seen it before. Where? Somewhere important to him. At..school. He frowned and let his hand drop, but still watched the cat. Why should school and a cat go together? Why? What was so important about them? Why should the Tabby with the funny markings around its eyes mean so much and be connected with school? School was horrible. Dudley chased him all the time. Dudley. That was a friends name? No, he didn't have any friends. He was missing something. There was something missing very important.
The cat stepped closer, and Harry watched the markings around the eyes. They were familiar. They reminded him of something else. Without thinking he reached up to adjust his glasses, and then froze. Glasses. The cat was wearing glasses. No. that was impossible. Cats didn't wear glasses.
He was thinking like a muggle. Harry frowned. What was a muggle? Non magic folk. How did he know that? Magic? What is going on here? He stared at the cat as if she could help him.
All that night he lay there. Little snitbits came to him. An old man. A severe looking lady. A freckle faced boy and a girl with bushy hair featured prominently.
When he woke he knew. He remembered. And he smiled at the worried cat who had been watching the red eyes and puffy face; the blood stained arms and scraped bloody cheek all night.
"Professor McGonagall. It's nice to see you."
AN; I know it's short. So sue me, as long as u review I don't mind.
TAKE NOTE!!! There is torture in this one. Sorry, had to happen. There m medium level detail though so don't read if u don't think you can handle it.
Here we go.
Harry Potter and the beginning of the end chapter 19 zoinks!
Harry slipped in and out of consciousness, often dreaming, never really sleeping. He would wake to fid himself still hanging there, with nothing but the echo's of his own screams reverberating through the room. Pansy and her friend stared at him, whenever they were awake, but they disappeared often, and always for hours.
He didn't know how long he hung there, his arms aching and his glasses askew. It seemed like forever. His wrists were slowly rubbed raw, and the blood trickling down his arms tickled and sometime he wanted to scream because he couldn't wipe the blood away. Once Pansy and her friend came back screaming, and lay on the ground at the door sobbing. Harry tried to talk to them; to ask them what was wrong, but his tongue was thick and dry and wouldn't work.
The worst thing though, was the hunger. It slowly became the worst feeling he had ever experienced. His stomach grumbled. It roared in the silence. His head began to ache and he longed for just one mouthful of water. Just one.
The door opened. Harry turned his head as much as possible. He couldn't make out the figure in the door way, his eyes hurt; it had been days since he had needed to see anything besides darkness.
"Cut him down." The voice was low, angry and unfamiliar.
Another figure stepped past the first and Harry felt his bonds give way. He fell to the floor, and his legs, unused by now to weight collapsed. The second figure hauled him to his feet and dragged him out the door. Harry glanced over his shoulder as he went, and saw Pansy Parkinsons frightened face. Then the door swung shut.
They questioned him for hours. He sat in the chair, ad simply repeated "I don't know." Again and again and again. Then they tied him down with ropes and dripped water in his eyes. He didn't mind because every now and then the water would dribble into his mouth. Then they dripped something else into his eyes and he screamed, he screamed until his voice broke apart. All through it a voice kept telling him that the pain would go away, as soon as he told them what they wanted to know. So he told them. He told them that he had tried to sneak into Hogsmead for a butter beer. And they bought it. They bought it without even once looking at his forehead, without once looking at the thing that would have made their boss very proud of them, very proud of them indeed.
Then they didn't need him.
He was dragged out into the sunlight. He was in house, in a field, it was a bright day. There was a forest nearby. The figures threw him onto the gravel path that led to the gate of the fence that surrounded the property, and he slid for a second on his cheek before stopping. There he lay. For a long time. Actually, Harry didn't even know that, all he knew was that he passed out, and when he woke the back of his neck was burning from sunburn. It was night. He tried to sit up, but his arms and legs failed him. He lay where he was and prayed silently.
There was a crunch of gravel, a footstep coming his way. Harry turned his head, looked along the pat and saw two luminous cat eyes glowing in the dark. Without fully knowing why, he reached for the cat.
"Tabby." He whispered, his throat constricted and it came out as more of a croak he was trying to remember where he knew the cat from. He had seen it before. Where? Somewhere important to him. At..school. He frowned and let his hand drop, but still watched the cat. Why should school and a cat go together? Why? What was so important about them? Why should the Tabby with the funny markings around its eyes mean so much and be connected with school? School was horrible. Dudley chased him all the time. Dudley. That was a friends name? No, he didn't have any friends. He was missing something. There was something missing very important.
The cat stepped closer, and Harry watched the markings around the eyes. They were familiar. They reminded him of something else. Without thinking he reached up to adjust his glasses, and then froze. Glasses. The cat was wearing glasses. No. that was impossible. Cats didn't wear glasses.
He was thinking like a muggle. Harry frowned. What was a muggle? Non magic folk. How did he know that? Magic? What is going on here? He stared at the cat as if she could help him.
All that night he lay there. Little snitbits came to him. An old man. A severe looking lady. A freckle faced boy and a girl with bushy hair featured prominently.
When he woke he knew. He remembered. And he smiled at the worried cat who had been watching the red eyes and puffy face; the blood stained arms and scraped bloody cheek all night.
"Professor McGonagall. It's nice to see you."
AN; I know it's short. So sue me, as long as u review I don't mind.