I know I deserve to be put to death for the length of time between my
last chapter and this. I don't know if it's any consolation, the reason is
that I joined the Army. So.I've been a little disposed for the last couple
months with that whole Basic Training thing. But now that's over and I've
been stationed in Monterey, California. I'm here at the Defense Language
Institute to learn Dari, a language widely spoken in Afghanistan. I
finally got internet access and I'm going to try to write as much as
possible.
A few things have happened to me since my last chapter. Other than learning to kill at over three hundred meters and to break an arm with only twenty pounds of pressure, I've turned nineteen. It was probably the most miserable birthday ever (I was digging a foxhole).
I felt bad about deserting all the crazy people who actually enjoyed my jacked up story. I'll try and make up for it.
Well the fifth book finally came out. It was amazing, as usual. But it certainly brings up a few problems for me and this second-rate story. First and foremost would be the fact that Sirius is dead. This story is set in the summer between the fifth and sixth year and therefore Sirius' plunge into darkness has already occurred.
Second, Arabella Figg turns out to be a squib. Damn! That's a pretty long jump from Animagus, as I have made her.
This brings up a very good question. Do I change my story to make sure it runs along the path that JK Rowling has laid down? Or do I continue on as I have been? I'm not sure. This story only has a few more chapters to go, so I'm tempted to just continue on as planned. But would that be like spitting in JK Rowling's face? Personally, I don't think she'll ever read any fanfiction let alone my fanfiction.
The last couple of hours were a blur to Harry. He could hardly keep the order of events straight in his mind. Everything was slightly blurred since his bloody confrontation with Voldemort.
He remembered Ron carrying him through the streets of New Orleans as Hermione screamed out directions. Ron would duck into doorways and put Harry onto the ground. He would then poke out his head and search the road behind them.
He's looking for the Death Eaters, Harry had thought. They still might be following us.
Ron had often turned to Hermione and some silent communication would pass between the two of them. Harry had to remind himself that Ron and Hermione had grown infinitely more close that they had been, even months before.
As soon as Ron had become convinced that they weren't being followed, they had continued their sprint through the streets. Harry vaguely remembered having to stop for Ginny, who had trouble keeping up with the group.
Things got really blurry when they reached some old apartment building. Ron had quickly knocked on the warped hardwood door. An old man had opened the door and threw his arms around Ron's shoulders with the cry of, "Rick! I knew you would make it."
Ron had smiled fondly at this man in Muggle clothing and followed him into the old apartment. The man tried to get the teens to sit down for a cup of tea, but Ron insisted that they needed to find a way home as soon as possible. The old man had sighed and said, "No one ever accused old Mathias that he had not helped wizards in need. Especially youngin's sent by the Great Dumbledore. Amazing man, Dumbledore! Did I ever tell you that I met him, once? I was strolling down Diagon Alley when-"
"Mathias," Ron had interrupted. "We really need to get out of here. There might be Death Eaters after us. We need-".
Mathias had jumped to his feet. "Death Eaters!" He had rummaged through his pockets violently. "I'll show them! Where is that blasted wand?"
Ron had sighed loudly and put a restraining hand on the man. "Relax, old one."
The old man relaxed visibly.
"Now," Ron had begun again. "We need a quick way back to Florida. We have friends there."
Another wave of weariness had washed over Harry and he barely remembered being led to the bathroom of the old apartment. Ron lifted him and put him into the shower.
"No." Harry said weakly. "I don't need a shower."
Ron just ignored him and turned to the old man who had joined them in the bathroom. "Are you sure this'll work?" he had asked warily.
Mathias had snorted contemptuously and reached over to the shower knob. He had turned it on and Harry had prepared himself to be soaked by the shower water.
Instead of getting wet, Harry had felt a strange jolt throughout his entire body. His fingers had begun to tingle slightly and Harry had looked at them. Starting with his fingertips, Harry's entire body began to feel wet, the way he felt after a long quidditch match. He head swooned as he looked down at his hand and saw that it was clear, like water. He expected gravity to kick in and take his newly liquefied hand down the tub's drain. But instead of falling to the floor of the shower, small droplets of his body began to float toward the shower head. When the water liquefaction reached his elbow, Harry saw that the tiny droplets were floating into the shower head.
Soon, his entire body had begun to tingle, and when the tingling had reached his head, he had felt his soul lift and float toward the shower head. When he had finally reached it, there was a sudden darkness and the sense of traveling at an insanely fast speed.
The next thing Harry had realized, he was being shot out of a different shower head and into a white tub. Harry had looked up at the shower head and saw the last drops of his body being shot out of the head. They settled quietly back into their rightful place.
Harry had suddenly felt very ill. He realized that he would have rather have traveled by the Floo Network a thousand times before doing that again.
He had felt another wave of weariness crash over him and this time he hadn't had the strength to fight it off. The darkness that closed his eyes was almost welcome.
***
Ron looked around the bathroom again. He shook his head in wonder again. He couldn't believe that they had traveled from Louisiana to Florida through a shower head.
When Ron had regained his wits after the strange trip, he had found himself in a tub with Harry, who had passed out. Ron had looked around and realized he recognized the bathroom that they were in. It was the bathroom he and Harry had shared in the hotel.
Ron had leaned over and shaken Harry, but when Harry didn't wake up, Ron let him sleep. Harry looked tired, almost as if his close proximity with Voldemort had drained him physically.
Ron pulled Harry out of the tub just as Hermione was shot out of the shower head, drop by drop.
(That was horrible.) Hermione's thought drifted into his mind as soon as she was all back together.
(You seem to be one piece.) Ron sent back.
(I'll be OK. Get Harry to bed. I'll wait for Ginny.)
Ron nodded and lifted Harry's body into his arms. He moved to the door and opened it. The room looked the same as it had all those days ago when he had been there last. Ron shook his head at the memory. It was right after he had first heard of the Sentinels. How strange the idea had been in the beginning. But now Ron could hardly imagine life without his bond with Hermione. It just seemed right.
The only difference between the room than and now was the number of people in it. Fred and George were laid out on the ground, snoring loudly. They were wearing the same clothes they had been wearing two days ago when they had helped in freeing Ron from the Sentinel compound.
Laying in one of the beds was Draco Malfoy. Another huge surprise, Ron thought as he looked at the sleeping boy. Malfoy had been a thorn in Ron's side for years. Ron had been convinced that the boy was truly evil. But now Draco was one of the "good guys" as Malfoy himself often put it. Draco's leg even though it had been burnt badly days ago, looked healthy again. Neville obviously knew how to work those herbs of his.
Ron moved to the open bed and put Harry down in it. Harry moaned slightly and then slipped back into whatever dream he was having.
Hermione and Ginny exited the bathroom, Ginny with a slightly hysterical look on her freckled face. It looked like the trip hadn't agreed with her either. However, when Ginny saw Fred and George sprawled out on the floor, a huge smile erupted on her face.
When Hermione and Ginny made it over to the bed that Ron had laid Harry down in, Ginny asked quietly, "Is he going to be alright?"
Ron shrugged. "We'll have to get Neville to look at him, but I think he's just tired.
Ginny nodded solemnly and was about to say something, perhaps something about how bad it had been in that cell for those few hours, when a drawling, sarcastic voice interrupted from behind them.
"So, our great heroes have returned."
Ron turned and saw Draco pushing himself out of the bed he had been laying in. "Everything turned out alright, I hope?"
Ron couldn't tell if Draco cared or not, but he did notice that he wasn't taking his eyes off of Harry's still form. "Looks like everything will be fine." Ron said slowly.
"That's good."
"Ginny!" George screamed from the spot he had been laying in. Malfoy's voice must have woken him. "You're here." He looked over at Fred who was still snoring loudly and kicked him. "Get up, Fred! Look who's here."
Fred's eyes opened slowly and angrily, but when he saw Ginny, a smile broke out on his face. "Gin!"
The twins both rushed their sister and enveloped her in a bear hug. When that was over, they turned to Ron with questions in their eyes. Ron, who wasn't in the mood to answer them, looked over to Hermione. (You stay here and appease the mob. I'm going to find McGonagall.)
Hermione nodded slightly and Ron left the room. He moved down the hallway to the room that he remembered being McGonagall's and knocked quietly on the door.
"Come in." came a tired voice from within.
Ron pushed the door open and walked inside. There, he saw McGonagall sitting with her back to the door, next to a bed. In the bed was Quentin. A bandage was wrapped around his massive middle. The black boy seemed to be in the middle of arguing his way out of his bed.
"I feel fine, Professor! I just want to take a walk." He said energetically.
Ron was happy to see that Quentin was better. While he didn't know the large boy very well, Ron knew that Quentin had risked his life to get Ron free. He owed this boy very much.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Boyd." McGonagall said. "While your Headmaster is in Colorado, you are under my care. You will leave this bed when I am fully sure that you are better."
Ron cleared his throat loudly. McGonagall looked in his direction and all the color in her skin disappeared. She began to tremble slightly. For a moment Ron thought that she would pass out and he moved forward to catch. But instead of falling over, the aging professor launched herself out of her chair and threw her arms around Ron's shoulders.
McGonagall seemed to gain her composure and pulled back away from Ron. "Mr. Weasley, it's good to see you're better.
McGonagall stared in disbelief as Ron described all that he had been through. She found it hard to pay attention to what he was saying. Ron Weasley had changed since the last time she had seen him. It seemed like he had grown a few inches in the few days he had been gone. If possible, he seemed to have lost weight. But he wasn't weak. When she had lost control of her emotions earlier and thrown her arms around the young man, it had been like hugging a rock.
She could feel the magic leaving his body in waves. During the long story, whenever Weasley had mentioned Hermione Granger, McGonagall felt the magic grow to dizzying heights. In her long years as a witch, McGonagall had come into contact with several Sentinels, most gone mad at the death of their bond-mate, but she had never felt anything close to the pure power that Mr. Weasley was exhibiting. And Hermione wasn't even in danger! She shuddered at the thought of what Ron would be like in a full-blown Sentinel rage. She shook her head slowly. At sixteen, Ron Weasley had quite possibly become one of the most powerful people alive.
".we were hoping to start getting ready for the wedding." Weasley had just said.
McGonagall cursed herself for not paying attention. "What was that, Mr. Weasley?
"The wedding." He said plainly. "Hermione and I have a lot of planning to do." His face suddenly went pale. "And I suppose we should tell our parents. Her dad might not like the whole idea."
McGonagall almost laughed out loud. During his whole story, throughout the tortures he had been subjected and the confrontation with Voldemort, had Ron shown as much fear as he did when he mentioned having to speak with an ordinary Muggle.
Hope you liked it. Again, sorry. I'm completely aware of any problems that my story creates as far as the chronological continuance of the books. Don't remind of them.
A few things have happened to me since my last chapter. Other than learning to kill at over three hundred meters and to break an arm with only twenty pounds of pressure, I've turned nineteen. It was probably the most miserable birthday ever (I was digging a foxhole).
I felt bad about deserting all the crazy people who actually enjoyed my jacked up story. I'll try and make up for it.
Well the fifth book finally came out. It was amazing, as usual. But it certainly brings up a few problems for me and this second-rate story. First and foremost would be the fact that Sirius is dead. This story is set in the summer between the fifth and sixth year and therefore Sirius' plunge into darkness has already occurred.
Second, Arabella Figg turns out to be a squib. Damn! That's a pretty long jump from Animagus, as I have made her.
This brings up a very good question. Do I change my story to make sure it runs along the path that JK Rowling has laid down? Or do I continue on as I have been? I'm not sure. This story only has a few more chapters to go, so I'm tempted to just continue on as planned. But would that be like spitting in JK Rowling's face? Personally, I don't think she'll ever read any fanfiction let alone my fanfiction.
The last couple of hours were a blur to Harry. He could hardly keep the order of events straight in his mind. Everything was slightly blurred since his bloody confrontation with Voldemort.
He remembered Ron carrying him through the streets of New Orleans as Hermione screamed out directions. Ron would duck into doorways and put Harry onto the ground. He would then poke out his head and search the road behind them.
He's looking for the Death Eaters, Harry had thought. They still might be following us.
Ron had often turned to Hermione and some silent communication would pass between the two of them. Harry had to remind himself that Ron and Hermione had grown infinitely more close that they had been, even months before.
As soon as Ron had become convinced that they weren't being followed, they had continued their sprint through the streets. Harry vaguely remembered having to stop for Ginny, who had trouble keeping up with the group.
Things got really blurry when they reached some old apartment building. Ron had quickly knocked on the warped hardwood door. An old man had opened the door and threw his arms around Ron's shoulders with the cry of, "Rick! I knew you would make it."
Ron had smiled fondly at this man in Muggle clothing and followed him into the old apartment. The man tried to get the teens to sit down for a cup of tea, but Ron insisted that they needed to find a way home as soon as possible. The old man had sighed and said, "No one ever accused old Mathias that he had not helped wizards in need. Especially youngin's sent by the Great Dumbledore. Amazing man, Dumbledore! Did I ever tell you that I met him, once? I was strolling down Diagon Alley when-"
"Mathias," Ron had interrupted. "We really need to get out of here. There might be Death Eaters after us. We need-".
Mathias had jumped to his feet. "Death Eaters!" He had rummaged through his pockets violently. "I'll show them! Where is that blasted wand?"
Ron had sighed loudly and put a restraining hand on the man. "Relax, old one."
The old man relaxed visibly.
"Now," Ron had begun again. "We need a quick way back to Florida. We have friends there."
Another wave of weariness had washed over Harry and he barely remembered being led to the bathroom of the old apartment. Ron lifted him and put him into the shower.
"No." Harry said weakly. "I don't need a shower."
Ron just ignored him and turned to the old man who had joined them in the bathroom. "Are you sure this'll work?" he had asked warily.
Mathias had snorted contemptuously and reached over to the shower knob. He had turned it on and Harry had prepared himself to be soaked by the shower water.
Instead of getting wet, Harry had felt a strange jolt throughout his entire body. His fingers had begun to tingle slightly and Harry had looked at them. Starting with his fingertips, Harry's entire body began to feel wet, the way he felt after a long quidditch match. He head swooned as he looked down at his hand and saw that it was clear, like water. He expected gravity to kick in and take his newly liquefied hand down the tub's drain. But instead of falling to the floor of the shower, small droplets of his body began to float toward the shower head. When the water liquefaction reached his elbow, Harry saw that the tiny droplets were floating into the shower head.
Soon, his entire body had begun to tingle, and when the tingling had reached his head, he had felt his soul lift and float toward the shower head. When he had finally reached it, there was a sudden darkness and the sense of traveling at an insanely fast speed.
The next thing Harry had realized, he was being shot out of a different shower head and into a white tub. Harry had looked up at the shower head and saw the last drops of his body being shot out of the head. They settled quietly back into their rightful place.
Harry had suddenly felt very ill. He realized that he would have rather have traveled by the Floo Network a thousand times before doing that again.
He had felt another wave of weariness crash over him and this time he hadn't had the strength to fight it off. The darkness that closed his eyes was almost welcome.
***
Ron looked around the bathroom again. He shook his head in wonder again. He couldn't believe that they had traveled from Louisiana to Florida through a shower head.
When Ron had regained his wits after the strange trip, he had found himself in a tub with Harry, who had passed out. Ron had looked around and realized he recognized the bathroom that they were in. It was the bathroom he and Harry had shared in the hotel.
Ron had leaned over and shaken Harry, but when Harry didn't wake up, Ron let him sleep. Harry looked tired, almost as if his close proximity with Voldemort had drained him physically.
Ron pulled Harry out of the tub just as Hermione was shot out of the shower head, drop by drop.
(That was horrible.) Hermione's thought drifted into his mind as soon as she was all back together.
(You seem to be one piece.) Ron sent back.
(I'll be OK. Get Harry to bed. I'll wait for Ginny.)
Ron nodded and lifted Harry's body into his arms. He moved to the door and opened it. The room looked the same as it had all those days ago when he had been there last. Ron shook his head at the memory. It was right after he had first heard of the Sentinels. How strange the idea had been in the beginning. But now Ron could hardly imagine life without his bond with Hermione. It just seemed right.
The only difference between the room than and now was the number of people in it. Fred and George were laid out on the ground, snoring loudly. They were wearing the same clothes they had been wearing two days ago when they had helped in freeing Ron from the Sentinel compound.
Laying in one of the beds was Draco Malfoy. Another huge surprise, Ron thought as he looked at the sleeping boy. Malfoy had been a thorn in Ron's side for years. Ron had been convinced that the boy was truly evil. But now Draco was one of the "good guys" as Malfoy himself often put it. Draco's leg even though it had been burnt badly days ago, looked healthy again. Neville obviously knew how to work those herbs of his.
Ron moved to the open bed and put Harry down in it. Harry moaned slightly and then slipped back into whatever dream he was having.
Hermione and Ginny exited the bathroom, Ginny with a slightly hysterical look on her freckled face. It looked like the trip hadn't agreed with her either. However, when Ginny saw Fred and George sprawled out on the floor, a huge smile erupted on her face.
When Hermione and Ginny made it over to the bed that Ron had laid Harry down in, Ginny asked quietly, "Is he going to be alright?"
Ron shrugged. "We'll have to get Neville to look at him, but I think he's just tired.
Ginny nodded solemnly and was about to say something, perhaps something about how bad it had been in that cell for those few hours, when a drawling, sarcastic voice interrupted from behind them.
"So, our great heroes have returned."
Ron turned and saw Draco pushing himself out of the bed he had been laying in. "Everything turned out alright, I hope?"
Ron couldn't tell if Draco cared or not, but he did notice that he wasn't taking his eyes off of Harry's still form. "Looks like everything will be fine." Ron said slowly.
"That's good."
"Ginny!" George screamed from the spot he had been laying in. Malfoy's voice must have woken him. "You're here." He looked over at Fred who was still snoring loudly and kicked him. "Get up, Fred! Look who's here."
Fred's eyes opened slowly and angrily, but when he saw Ginny, a smile broke out on his face. "Gin!"
The twins both rushed their sister and enveloped her in a bear hug. When that was over, they turned to Ron with questions in their eyes. Ron, who wasn't in the mood to answer them, looked over to Hermione. (You stay here and appease the mob. I'm going to find McGonagall.)
Hermione nodded slightly and Ron left the room. He moved down the hallway to the room that he remembered being McGonagall's and knocked quietly on the door.
"Come in." came a tired voice from within.
Ron pushed the door open and walked inside. There, he saw McGonagall sitting with her back to the door, next to a bed. In the bed was Quentin. A bandage was wrapped around his massive middle. The black boy seemed to be in the middle of arguing his way out of his bed.
"I feel fine, Professor! I just want to take a walk." He said energetically.
Ron was happy to see that Quentin was better. While he didn't know the large boy very well, Ron knew that Quentin had risked his life to get Ron free. He owed this boy very much.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Boyd." McGonagall said. "While your Headmaster is in Colorado, you are under my care. You will leave this bed when I am fully sure that you are better."
Ron cleared his throat loudly. McGonagall looked in his direction and all the color in her skin disappeared. She began to tremble slightly. For a moment Ron thought that she would pass out and he moved forward to catch. But instead of falling over, the aging professor launched herself out of her chair and threw her arms around Ron's shoulders.
McGonagall seemed to gain her composure and pulled back away from Ron. "Mr. Weasley, it's good to see you're better.
McGonagall stared in disbelief as Ron described all that he had been through. She found it hard to pay attention to what he was saying. Ron Weasley had changed since the last time she had seen him. It seemed like he had grown a few inches in the few days he had been gone. If possible, he seemed to have lost weight. But he wasn't weak. When she had lost control of her emotions earlier and thrown her arms around the young man, it had been like hugging a rock.
She could feel the magic leaving his body in waves. During the long story, whenever Weasley had mentioned Hermione Granger, McGonagall felt the magic grow to dizzying heights. In her long years as a witch, McGonagall had come into contact with several Sentinels, most gone mad at the death of their bond-mate, but she had never felt anything close to the pure power that Mr. Weasley was exhibiting. And Hermione wasn't even in danger! She shuddered at the thought of what Ron would be like in a full-blown Sentinel rage. She shook her head slowly. At sixteen, Ron Weasley had quite possibly become one of the most powerful people alive.
".we were hoping to start getting ready for the wedding." Weasley had just said.
McGonagall cursed herself for not paying attention. "What was that, Mr. Weasley?
"The wedding." He said plainly. "Hermione and I have a lot of planning to do." His face suddenly went pale. "And I suppose we should tell our parents. Her dad might not like the whole idea."
McGonagall almost laughed out loud. During his whole story, throughout the tortures he had been subjected and the confrontation with Voldemort, had Ron shown as much fear as he did when he mentioned having to speak with an ordinary Muggle.
Hope you liked it. Again, sorry. I'm completely aware of any problems that my story creates as far as the chronological continuance of the books. Don't remind of them.