CHAPTER FIVE- Gaining Tension
The hungry dementors had spread throughout Great Britain, and the ministry was doing anything in it's power to put an end to it. Every remaining ministry wizard was sent out, patrolling the land and protecting as many people as possible. Inside the Burrow, everyone was in a state of constant denial.
"I won't believe it, I won't!" Ginny wailed, pounding her fists on the kitchen table. Ron still stared blankly into space, unaware that he was sticking his hand into his bowl of soup. Meanwhile, Mr. Weasly and his older sons were constantly running through and around the house, protecting it from the dementor menace.
In the basement, something stirred in the darkness.
"It'sssss almost time," it hissed in the darkness. Slowly it crawled towards the kitchen.
"Master, I'm sorry! I just, just couldn't control them when they were hungry!" Bellatrix had returned from Azkaban unsuccessfully, the mission a complete failure. Voldemort was sprawled on the floor, laying in a bloody heap. Raising his head in a pained expression, he spoke, "No, it doesn't matter anymore. For now, focus our efforts on the boy."
"The Potter boy?" Bellatrix asked curiously.
"No, you fool. The other one!"
"You mean the-"-she was cut off by her master's cries of pain.
"Yes! Now begin, leave me! NOW!!!"
The candle that lit the room burst into pieces as the surge of power from Voldemort's outburst had spread through the castle. Bellatrix immediately ran from the room, yelping as the wave of power hit her like a ton of bricks. Voldemort crawled to the door and shut it. Blood was now flowing openly from his nose, mouth, and ears. Clutching his stomach, Voldemort struggled to pull himself up from the floor.
"It's coming faster than I thought," he told himself, "Hopefully, she will find the boy soon."
The last bits of light faded from the room, and were accompanied by a complete and utter silence.
Dumbledore walked silently between the straight rows of bodies, lost during the battle. The dementors had come out of the battle victorious, and many of England's best wizards had perished in the struggle. He approached the remaining order members, all of whom were suffering an injury of some sort. He spoke slowly, deep in thought, "Here is where our true battle begins. This is our plan..."
Harry felt his hand grasp for something. Then slowly he felt his consciousness return to him. Moving his arm, he felt a liquid envelop it. A hand quickly grabbed him by the back of his robes, and the next thing he knew, he was being pulled away from the beach by someone.
The journey seemed to take forever, and when he finally stopped, Harry was on a material which felt like hard stone bricks. He was somewhere very, very bad, but he was unaware of it at the moment. Suddenly, Harry was lifted up by the arms on to what felt like a muggle operating table, and began to feel his limbs constricted by straps of metal. Soon, he would feel the worst pain in his life.
Inside the Burrow, the dark creature had crept into a woman's shadow. It was nearly the time to strike.
The hungry dementors had spread throughout Great Britain, and the ministry was doing anything in it's power to put an end to it. Every remaining ministry wizard was sent out, patrolling the land and protecting as many people as possible. Inside the Burrow, everyone was in a state of constant denial.
"I won't believe it, I won't!" Ginny wailed, pounding her fists on the kitchen table. Ron still stared blankly into space, unaware that he was sticking his hand into his bowl of soup. Meanwhile, Mr. Weasly and his older sons were constantly running through and around the house, protecting it from the dementor menace.
In the basement, something stirred in the darkness.
"It'sssss almost time," it hissed in the darkness. Slowly it crawled towards the kitchen.
"Master, I'm sorry! I just, just couldn't control them when they were hungry!" Bellatrix had returned from Azkaban unsuccessfully, the mission a complete failure. Voldemort was sprawled on the floor, laying in a bloody heap. Raising his head in a pained expression, he spoke, "No, it doesn't matter anymore. For now, focus our efforts on the boy."
"The Potter boy?" Bellatrix asked curiously.
"No, you fool. The other one!"
"You mean the-"-she was cut off by her master's cries of pain.
"Yes! Now begin, leave me! NOW!!!"
The candle that lit the room burst into pieces as the surge of power from Voldemort's outburst had spread through the castle. Bellatrix immediately ran from the room, yelping as the wave of power hit her like a ton of bricks. Voldemort crawled to the door and shut it. Blood was now flowing openly from his nose, mouth, and ears. Clutching his stomach, Voldemort struggled to pull himself up from the floor.
"It's coming faster than I thought," he told himself, "Hopefully, she will find the boy soon."
The last bits of light faded from the room, and were accompanied by a complete and utter silence.
Dumbledore walked silently between the straight rows of bodies, lost during the battle. The dementors had come out of the battle victorious, and many of England's best wizards had perished in the struggle. He approached the remaining order members, all of whom were suffering an injury of some sort. He spoke slowly, deep in thought, "Here is where our true battle begins. This is our plan..."
Harry felt his hand grasp for something. Then slowly he felt his consciousness return to him. Moving his arm, he felt a liquid envelop it. A hand quickly grabbed him by the back of his robes, and the next thing he knew, he was being pulled away from the beach by someone.
The journey seemed to take forever, and when he finally stopped, Harry was on a material which felt like hard stone bricks. He was somewhere very, very bad, but he was unaware of it at the moment. Suddenly, Harry was lifted up by the arms on to what felt like a muggle operating table, and began to feel his limbs constricted by straps of metal. Soon, he would feel the worst pain in his life.
Inside the Burrow, the dark creature had crept into a woman's shadow. It was nearly the time to strike.