Chapter 10: Forgive Me
They sat at lunch that Thursday afternoon, "Are you excited about flying lessons?" asked Flint.
"Not really." Harry lied.
"Good, 'cause you'll need your wits about you with this. If you're scared of heights, you're best off going to the infirmary with a fever. It can get dangerous, but if you do what Madame Hooch tells you, you'll do fine."
Harry smiled nervously and snorted a laugh, "Heh, good to know."
It wasn't that Harry was afraid of heights, he was afraid of making a fool out of himself.in front of the Gryffindors, no less.
"C'mon, Harry. Cheer up, now. It's not hard at all. Flint's just trying to scare you," the Quidditch Captain nodded with a sly smile, "To tell you the truth, it's quite hard to fall off the broom, anyways. Unless you completely let go of it and launch yourself off of it, you won't fall off."
"Gryffindors on my right, Slytherins to my left. Well, what are you waiting for? Hurry up." Madam Hooch had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Now, stick your right hand over your broom," she demonstrated, "and say 'Up!'"
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Ron's, across from him, had simply rolled over like a dog would to his master for a belly-rub, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Draco, after a few attempts, finally got his up.
She showed the how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -three - two."
But the Longbottom boy from the Gryffindors had already shot up into the air, "Come back, Mr. Longbottom."
But the boy couldn't even hear her. He was too far away, and even if he could hear her, he didn't know how to come back down. He tilted forward and swooped down nearly hitting the ground, but pulled back up.and fell off around fifteen feet up in the air, falling on his side.
"Idiot." Some of the Slytherins whispered, but all of them laughed while the Gryffindors and Madam Hooch ran to the boy.
When Madam Hooch returned were they finally allowed to fly. Draco had been flying for years; quite the nuisance to most, but to everyone's surprised to find that Harry, of all people, was a natural.
"You *have* to try out for Quidditch, Harry. It'll be the best experience you'll ever have." Flint was nagging him. Once he had heard from everyone no how good Harry was on a broom, he was on the poor brunette's heels ever since he found him, "Please, Harry. There aren't that many good or experienced flyers in Slytherin, and you're *more* than the exception."
"I already told you that I don't want to." Harry was sitting in the common room trying to finish his homework.
"But *why*?!" It was getting extremely frustrating.
"Because.I don't know how to play." He admitted.
"Well what the bloody hell." Flint stood up and knelt before Harry and clasped his hands together, "Just say you'll play, and I'll teach you how to. *Please*!"
Harry considered it for a moment before looking up to meet the Quidditch Captain's pleading eyes, "*Fine*.fine. When are tryouts?"
Flint snorted a laugh, "You're not going to be in tryouts, I want you on the team. All I need to do is to see what position you'd be better in. I think you'd be a good Beater, but I'm really looking for a Seeker. We'll try that out first. How's tomorrow sound?"
"Friday?" Flint nodded, "I have double potions with the Gryffindors, then after lunch.I'm free for the rest of the afternoon."
The older boy couldn't seem to hold in his excitement, "This is *excellent*! Thank you so much, Harry. You will *not* regret this."
"I'm already beginning to, now can I finish my homework?" but not another word was passed between the two, for Flint had practically ran out of the common room with an uncommon bliss in his eyes. It wasn't everyday you see a Slytherin that happy.
Not five minutes after the other boy had left had Harry started to feel drowsy. But it wasn't even dark outside, Harry thought. And every second his eyelids only became heavier.
He closed his Defense Against the Dark Arts book and set his quill down. Professor Snape wasn't lying when he mentioned that his class would be difficult, in fact, that was almost an understatement, but he still liked the class.
The next thing he knew, though, was that he was lying down comfortably on the dark colored couch, but he could have cared less about the couch's color. He was a little preoccupied with trying to figure out how he suddenly got so tired, like a frying pan being hit across his head and telling him to finally sleep, which he hadn't gotten much of lately.
'There.in the corner. Take it! ' There was a voice screaming in his head, but he heeded the straining hissing. In the right corner of the strange room, that seemed oddly familiar, was a small box. He picked it up and turned around. But, peculiarly, he realized that it wasn't *him* turning around.
He may have been behind the eyes, but this wasn't one of his normal lucid dreams.
'Hurry! They're getting closer, Elenor, You have to hurry.' 'He' shot around and dashed down a wooden spiral flight of stairs. As if reliving something of some particular time, 'he' could feel and sense everything around him. It was an enormous house, he could tell as 'his' body ran and reached a large wooden door that creaked loudly as 'he' opened it hastily. He dashed down another flight of stairs, but this time they were stone steps that also spiraled down.
KABOOM!
And 'he' stopped. 'His' heart beating horrendously fast against 'his' breasts.wait.*breasts*? How ridiculous could this dream get?
But, he soon found himself flying fast down the stairs. The air beginning to get damp and dense while 'his' lungs begged 'him' to stop. He couldn't stop though, 'he' was determined. The stairs finally came to an end and 'he' found 'himself' in a dungeon. And at the end of the dungeon hallway was a door.
'He' ran down the long corridor and thrust the door open and slammed it behind him, as 'he' continued running. It was a dungeon cell.or what looked to be one, but on the other side of the cell was another door. It opened before 'he' was even twenty feet from it. It locked behind 'him' and more he ran.down another flight a stairs. That's when 'he' reached a large metal door and stopped.
There was no handle.only the cold silver metal with the blurred reflection of a middle-aged woman staring back at him. She pulled a box out of her long, thick, green cloak and placed a hand flat on the metallic door. It opened once it recognized her blood and she stepped inside revealing a vault.
"There's no way possible for them to enter here without being apart of my blood." She whispered, "My dear, dear great grandson.I'm sorry to place such a heavy burden upon your shoulders. Please forgive me."
And Harry's eyes slowly opened to the sound of Draco waking him up.
End of Chapter 10
I don't know when I'll have chapters 11-* done, but I'm working on it. But that doesn't mean that you can't give me your opinion. And please forgive me for making Sirius a bad guy. 6.6;
They sat at lunch that Thursday afternoon, "Are you excited about flying lessons?" asked Flint.
"Not really." Harry lied.
"Good, 'cause you'll need your wits about you with this. If you're scared of heights, you're best off going to the infirmary with a fever. It can get dangerous, but if you do what Madame Hooch tells you, you'll do fine."
Harry smiled nervously and snorted a laugh, "Heh, good to know."
It wasn't that Harry was afraid of heights, he was afraid of making a fool out of himself.in front of the Gryffindors, no less.
"C'mon, Harry. Cheer up, now. It's not hard at all. Flint's just trying to scare you," the Quidditch Captain nodded with a sly smile, "To tell you the truth, it's quite hard to fall off the broom, anyways. Unless you completely let go of it and launch yourself off of it, you won't fall off."
"Gryffindors on my right, Slytherins to my left. Well, what are you waiting for? Hurry up." Madam Hooch had short, gray hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.
"Now, stick your right hand over your broom," she demonstrated, "and say 'Up!'"
"UP!" everyone shouted.
Harry's broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Ron's, across from him, had simply rolled over like a dog would to his master for a belly-rub, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. Draco, after a few attempts, finally got his up.
She showed the how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, "Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle -three - two."
But the Longbottom boy from the Gryffindors had already shot up into the air, "Come back, Mr. Longbottom."
But the boy couldn't even hear her. He was too far away, and even if he could hear her, he didn't know how to come back down. He tilted forward and swooped down nearly hitting the ground, but pulled back up.and fell off around fifteen feet up in the air, falling on his side.
"Idiot." Some of the Slytherins whispered, but all of them laughed while the Gryffindors and Madam Hooch ran to the boy.
When Madam Hooch returned were they finally allowed to fly. Draco had been flying for years; quite the nuisance to most, but to everyone's surprised to find that Harry, of all people, was a natural.
"You *have* to try out for Quidditch, Harry. It'll be the best experience you'll ever have." Flint was nagging him. Once he had heard from everyone no how good Harry was on a broom, he was on the poor brunette's heels ever since he found him, "Please, Harry. There aren't that many good or experienced flyers in Slytherin, and you're *more* than the exception."
"I already told you that I don't want to." Harry was sitting in the common room trying to finish his homework.
"But *why*?!" It was getting extremely frustrating.
"Because.I don't know how to play." He admitted.
"Well what the bloody hell." Flint stood up and knelt before Harry and clasped his hands together, "Just say you'll play, and I'll teach you how to. *Please*!"
Harry considered it for a moment before looking up to meet the Quidditch Captain's pleading eyes, "*Fine*.fine. When are tryouts?"
Flint snorted a laugh, "You're not going to be in tryouts, I want you on the team. All I need to do is to see what position you'd be better in. I think you'd be a good Beater, but I'm really looking for a Seeker. We'll try that out first. How's tomorrow sound?"
"Friday?" Flint nodded, "I have double potions with the Gryffindors, then after lunch.I'm free for the rest of the afternoon."
The older boy couldn't seem to hold in his excitement, "This is *excellent*! Thank you so much, Harry. You will *not* regret this."
"I'm already beginning to, now can I finish my homework?" but not another word was passed between the two, for Flint had practically ran out of the common room with an uncommon bliss in his eyes. It wasn't everyday you see a Slytherin that happy.
Not five minutes after the other boy had left had Harry started to feel drowsy. But it wasn't even dark outside, Harry thought. And every second his eyelids only became heavier.
He closed his Defense Against the Dark Arts book and set his quill down. Professor Snape wasn't lying when he mentioned that his class would be difficult, in fact, that was almost an understatement, but he still liked the class.
The next thing he knew, though, was that he was lying down comfortably on the dark colored couch, but he could have cared less about the couch's color. He was a little preoccupied with trying to figure out how he suddenly got so tired, like a frying pan being hit across his head and telling him to finally sleep, which he hadn't gotten much of lately.
'There.in the corner. Take it! ' There was a voice screaming in his head, but he heeded the straining hissing. In the right corner of the strange room, that seemed oddly familiar, was a small box. He picked it up and turned around. But, peculiarly, he realized that it wasn't *him* turning around.
He may have been behind the eyes, but this wasn't one of his normal lucid dreams.
'Hurry! They're getting closer, Elenor, You have to hurry.' 'He' shot around and dashed down a wooden spiral flight of stairs. As if reliving something of some particular time, 'he' could feel and sense everything around him. It was an enormous house, he could tell as 'his' body ran and reached a large wooden door that creaked loudly as 'he' opened it hastily. He dashed down another flight of stairs, but this time they were stone steps that also spiraled down.
KABOOM!
And 'he' stopped. 'His' heart beating horrendously fast against 'his' breasts.wait.*breasts*? How ridiculous could this dream get?
But, he soon found himself flying fast down the stairs. The air beginning to get damp and dense while 'his' lungs begged 'him' to stop. He couldn't stop though, 'he' was determined. The stairs finally came to an end and 'he' found 'himself' in a dungeon. And at the end of the dungeon hallway was a door.
'He' ran down the long corridor and thrust the door open and slammed it behind him, as 'he' continued running. It was a dungeon cell.or what looked to be one, but on the other side of the cell was another door. It opened before 'he' was even twenty feet from it. It locked behind 'him' and more he ran.down another flight a stairs. That's when 'he' reached a large metal door and stopped.
There was no handle.only the cold silver metal with the blurred reflection of a middle-aged woman staring back at him. She pulled a box out of her long, thick, green cloak and placed a hand flat on the metallic door. It opened once it recognized her blood and she stepped inside revealing a vault.
"There's no way possible for them to enter here without being apart of my blood." She whispered, "My dear, dear great grandson.I'm sorry to place such a heavy burden upon your shoulders. Please forgive me."
And Harry's eyes slowly opened to the sound of Draco waking him up.
End of Chapter 10
I don't know when I'll have chapters 11-* done, but I'm working on it. But that doesn't mean that you can't give me your opinion. And please forgive me for making Sirius a bad guy. 6.6;