Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Chapter 7: The Emerald Knight
Harry finally made it home. He was mulling all the information in his head over and over again. He didn't notice Dudley sweating from his daily walk. He didn't notice Vernon or Petunia hollering at him. He just opened the door to his room and lay down.
He didn't practice his kick-boxing or read any books he got he was just thinking about his forms. They were so powerful he couldn't believe it. While he was thinking, he dozed off.
Harry opened his eyes. He was outside, and it was poring. He realized it was a dream, perhaps a vision. Harry had been having a lot of them, and they didn't concern Voldemort. One time he saw the lottery numbers. He didn't tell the Dursley's because they didn't deserve it, and he didn't want to abuse his power.
He knew it was probably a vision, since it would be too weird of a dream for Harry, and when he looked at his hands, they weren't long, pale, and spidery like Voldemort's.
Harry was on top of a hill. He noticed a village lower down, and decided to walk there. When he got closer, he noticed that some houses were on fire. As he got closer, he noticed a group of Deatheater's. It must be a future vision, since their robes were of a different style than they were now.
The Dark Mark was encrusted on the shoulders. There also seemed to be some armor sewed in to the fabric. Instead of being black, the robes were a dark forest green, the same color that represented Salazar Slytherin.
The Deatheater's were torturing a girl maybe of ten years with blond hair in pigtails, sopping wet from the rain and in a dressing gown. It was a lesser pain curse, Harry recognized, but still painful, Harry heard the Deatheaters taunting her.
"You're the reason your parents are dead, mudblood."
"You think your good enough to be a witch, you piece of filth?"
It went on like that for quite some time. Harry was getting pissed. There were ten Deatheaters, and after each one taunted her, they would cast a curse on her. At this point, the girl was bawling. The Deatheaters were laughing manically. They were getting ready to do something to her, that if they did, Harry would have gotten sick, when a green mist engulfed the Deatheaters. They immediately stopped their activities. Even though they were wearing masks, Harry could tell they paled considerably.
Harry was just wondering why they were so afraid of the mist, when he heard horse foot falls. Harry then heard some whimpers from the Deatheaters when he seen what they were afraid of.
Out of the mist, came a pure white horse. It even had a pink nose. It was higher than most horses, even if Harry had never seen a horse in real life. Its hooves looked like they were made out of pearls. The saddle on its back was a dark emerald green.
The rider, though Harry had to admit, was one of the most spectacular things he had ever seen. It was about six feet tall, Harry guessed since he was sitting down. He had on armor like a knight. The armor was a dark metallic emerald green, that shown with the now emerald green lightning bolts in the sky. His helmet was almost completely closed off except for a portion in front of his eyes. It came to a point where his nose would be. His boots were the same color as his armor, and came to a point, like Santa's elf's shoes, except that they were metal and would more than likely hurt if kicked by the mysterious rider. He carried an old fashioned long sword, except the blade seemed to be made out of glass, and had a green mist in it.
"You will leave that girl alone," the mysterious rider boomed in a deep, vaguely familiar voice.
"Make us," a Deatheater hissed, drawing his wand, as the rest of the Deatheaters followed his lead.
The rider was pissed, as a giant lightning bolt illuminated the clouds and a giant shadow of a bird flashed across the ground with a scream (AN: you know that sound hawks and stuff make). The Deatheaters were now shaking with fear as they heard the scream, and feeling the malice directed towards them from the rider.
One of the more jumpy Deatheaters got scared as they heard the thunder from above, causing him to shoot a curse off, therefore starting the fight. The rider's steed didn't need any directions as the curse zoomed towards his rider. He effectively moved out of the way, and into striking position of the Deatheaters.
The sword of the rider now had changed from a green, swirling mist, to a solid red color. The rider slashed the sword causing a tornado of fire to develop, taking out three Deatheaters. The rider dismounted his horse, and walked with authority to the remaining Deatheaters.
The Deatheaters now showed no restraint as they launched a volley of attacks towards the knight. All bounced off, until a Cruciatus was hurled towards him. It effectively brought him to one knee, but not indisposed. The armor took the brunt of the curse off, allowing a small part to get through. After this, most Deatheaters caught on, and casted there own. The knight started to twitch. His armor also started to crack. His helmet got a jagged crack down the middle.
Not wanting his identity to be exposed, he gathered all the strength he could muster, and swung his sword like a baseball bat, hurling millions of emerald lightning bolts towards opponents, effectively knocking them out.
The little girl ran up to the panting knight to find out if he was okay. After about two seconds though, his helmet fully broke, stopping the girl in mid stride to see her savior efficiently. She took in the dripping raven hair from the rain and his sweat. The stubble on the man's face the startling green eyes and the jagged scar on his forehead.
The man looked up, seemingly at Harry, who promptly woke up from the vision.
(AN: How was that? Okay I hope. I was just wondering if I should have a good Ron, or a bad one. Let me know. Peace).
Chapter 7: The Emerald Knight
Harry finally made it home. He was mulling all the information in his head over and over again. He didn't notice Dudley sweating from his daily walk. He didn't notice Vernon or Petunia hollering at him. He just opened the door to his room and lay down.
He didn't practice his kick-boxing or read any books he got he was just thinking about his forms. They were so powerful he couldn't believe it. While he was thinking, he dozed off.
Harry opened his eyes. He was outside, and it was poring. He realized it was a dream, perhaps a vision. Harry had been having a lot of them, and they didn't concern Voldemort. One time he saw the lottery numbers. He didn't tell the Dursley's because they didn't deserve it, and he didn't want to abuse his power.
He knew it was probably a vision, since it would be too weird of a dream for Harry, and when he looked at his hands, they weren't long, pale, and spidery like Voldemort's.
Harry was on top of a hill. He noticed a village lower down, and decided to walk there. When he got closer, he noticed that some houses were on fire. As he got closer, he noticed a group of Deatheater's. It must be a future vision, since their robes were of a different style than they were now.
The Dark Mark was encrusted on the shoulders. There also seemed to be some armor sewed in to the fabric. Instead of being black, the robes were a dark forest green, the same color that represented Salazar Slytherin.
The Deatheater's were torturing a girl maybe of ten years with blond hair in pigtails, sopping wet from the rain and in a dressing gown. It was a lesser pain curse, Harry recognized, but still painful, Harry heard the Deatheaters taunting her.
"You're the reason your parents are dead, mudblood."
"You think your good enough to be a witch, you piece of filth?"
It went on like that for quite some time. Harry was getting pissed. There were ten Deatheaters, and after each one taunted her, they would cast a curse on her. At this point, the girl was bawling. The Deatheaters were laughing manically. They were getting ready to do something to her, that if they did, Harry would have gotten sick, when a green mist engulfed the Deatheaters. They immediately stopped their activities. Even though they were wearing masks, Harry could tell they paled considerably.
Harry was just wondering why they were so afraid of the mist, when he heard horse foot falls. Harry then heard some whimpers from the Deatheaters when he seen what they were afraid of.
Out of the mist, came a pure white horse. It even had a pink nose. It was higher than most horses, even if Harry had never seen a horse in real life. Its hooves looked like they were made out of pearls. The saddle on its back was a dark emerald green.
The rider, though Harry had to admit, was one of the most spectacular things he had ever seen. It was about six feet tall, Harry guessed since he was sitting down. He had on armor like a knight. The armor was a dark metallic emerald green, that shown with the now emerald green lightning bolts in the sky. His helmet was almost completely closed off except for a portion in front of his eyes. It came to a point where his nose would be. His boots were the same color as his armor, and came to a point, like Santa's elf's shoes, except that they were metal and would more than likely hurt if kicked by the mysterious rider. He carried an old fashioned long sword, except the blade seemed to be made out of glass, and had a green mist in it.
"You will leave that girl alone," the mysterious rider boomed in a deep, vaguely familiar voice.
"Make us," a Deatheater hissed, drawing his wand, as the rest of the Deatheaters followed his lead.
The rider was pissed, as a giant lightning bolt illuminated the clouds and a giant shadow of a bird flashed across the ground with a scream (AN: you know that sound hawks and stuff make). The Deatheaters were now shaking with fear as they heard the scream, and feeling the malice directed towards them from the rider.
One of the more jumpy Deatheaters got scared as they heard the thunder from above, causing him to shoot a curse off, therefore starting the fight. The rider's steed didn't need any directions as the curse zoomed towards his rider. He effectively moved out of the way, and into striking position of the Deatheaters.
The sword of the rider now had changed from a green, swirling mist, to a solid red color. The rider slashed the sword causing a tornado of fire to develop, taking out three Deatheaters. The rider dismounted his horse, and walked with authority to the remaining Deatheaters.
The Deatheaters now showed no restraint as they launched a volley of attacks towards the knight. All bounced off, until a Cruciatus was hurled towards him. It effectively brought him to one knee, but not indisposed. The armor took the brunt of the curse off, allowing a small part to get through. After this, most Deatheaters caught on, and casted there own. The knight started to twitch. His armor also started to crack. His helmet got a jagged crack down the middle.
Not wanting his identity to be exposed, he gathered all the strength he could muster, and swung his sword like a baseball bat, hurling millions of emerald lightning bolts towards opponents, effectively knocking them out.
The little girl ran up to the panting knight to find out if he was okay. After about two seconds though, his helmet fully broke, stopping the girl in mid stride to see her savior efficiently. She took in the dripping raven hair from the rain and his sweat. The stubble on the man's face the startling green eyes and the jagged scar on his forehead.
The man looked up, seemingly at Harry, who promptly woke up from the vision.
(AN: How was that? Okay I hope. I was just wondering if I should have a good Ron, or a bad one. Let me know. Peace).