The Fifth House
Disclaimer: It's the second chapter. Third according to fan fiction.net. It is only so far into the story, and I still don't own Harry Potter. Or Hogwarts. But how cool would that be if I did? Anyway, I only repeat this every chapter so that no one accuses me of plagiarism. Does anyone read this anyway? Everyone that reads fan fiction knows that no one owns the basic characters, so it's all very pointless.
Author's Note: AAAAAHHHHHH! I forgot to put "curtains close" at the end of the last chapter. Please forgive me. I will never do it again. It was my muse's fault. Blame it on my muse {who shall remain nameless}.
Thanks to the reviewers! This story is dedicated to all of you guys! It will actually be dedicated to my first ten reviewers, but I only have 7 so far…
ME—{as in the author} I'll never tell! I will tell who or what this Evil is at the very end, or somewhere near the end. Even my beta-reader doesn't know {I don't have a beta-reader}.
Curtains Up!
Chapter Two
Harry was out of it all day. It was the morning after he received a mysterious letter from some P.1 Rebirth whoever that should be. All he thought about that day was that fateful night, when an owl had smashed into his window and went berserk in his small bedroom of Number4 Privet Drive; crashing into just about everything.
He accidentally burnt the Dursleys' toast that morning, and it was because he was so lost in thought. The Dursleys were most displeased, and Harry was sent to his room all day, which he didn't really mind. It was far better to stay up in his bedroom doing nothing then it was to be a servant to the Dursleys all day. Even if it meant he was a prisoner of his room. It was exactly where he wanted to be.
But alone is exactly what Harry Potter should not be.
Eventually, Aunt Petunia called him down for dinner. Harry had hardly realized how hungry he was. He inhaled the aroma of roast turkey wafting up the hall. Now he felt famished.
"Set up the table, boy," barked Uncle Vernon.
"Come on, hurry up, I'm starving," added Dudley.
Harry wasn't sure what Dudley had eaten that day, but it had to be far more than one day's worth of food.
Apparently the Dursleys were still unforgiving of their toast that morning, and Harry found himself only being allowed to eat about o fourth of what Aunt Petunia had, and hers was severely less than Dudley's.
Harry looked hopefully at the carved turkey sitting in front of Uncle Vernon.
"No more for you, boy," his uncle growled.
Harry's stomach growled continuously. Perhaps this was the evil. Starvation. It was possible, Harry thought. In his mind he meant it only as a joke.
But a voice nearby said, in a voice only It could hear. "If that's the way he wants it.''
Harry went up to his room immediately after he cleared the table {no choice there}. On his pillow, there sat a scroll.
Anxiously, Harry walked towards his bed. It almost seemed as if something would suddenly pop out of nowhere, and scare him half to death. Maybe he was imagining it, maybe not, but the atmosphere seemed to change at that point. The sky outside darkened; it grew suddenly very silent. This got at Harry the most, for there is nothing more nerve-racking than the sound of silence.
Harry strained his senses. His eyes looked slowly and searchingly around the bedroom. He listened very carefully to any small sound. But there were none.
Then, Harry heard low whispers.
Not like any whispers Harry had ever heard before; these came from all around the room. It was as if the furniture was having a discussion. First, Harry turned towards the door to search for a source of the sounds. Then the sounds shifted, more towards the bureau, where Harry turned toward next. The whispers moved across the room to his bed, where the scroll lay. Finally, Harry rested his eyes on the window, where the whispers lasted about ten seconds before slowly fading away into the street.
Harry faced the window fully, as a light breeze crept through it. The wind that blew against him paused and stayed blowing back and forth, causing him to sway slightly, rocking in his shoes. The breeze whispered too; in a manner that one could expect only from a ghost.
These whispers differed from the first; they were the sounds of children, laughing, and playing together. Harry felt his eyes close as a picture of four children came to his mind. They were at a muggle playground, one was pushing another on the swings; the others shrieking with laughter on the seesaw. It was a bright, sunny day. The most perfect weather, Harry thought, as he felt himself being bathed is sunlight.
Unexpectedly, the sky turned an indigo-violet color, which turned to the darkest ebony. Clouds stormed in quickly, and the rumble of thunder was heard in the distance. A bolt of lightening cut across the sky. The once happy shrieks of laughter from the children were replaced with shrill screams. The children ran away from where Harry was standing. He tried to run after them; to help them, but it was impossible to catch up to them, as Harry felt himself going in slow motion. He saw them huddled together in a tight group under a swaying willow. He tried to yell to them, to tell them it would be okay, but he shouts were lost in the sea of thunder and darkness. Harry saw blue sparks shoot out from behind him towards the sky. The exploded in the sky into huge, swirling bursts. The children seemed slightly relieved at the sight of fireworks, but their fear returned when the sparks from the ends of the swirls hurtled towards the ground. As each spark hit the ground, the earth that was initially beneath it sank to the ground farther than it seemed it would, and blue flames formed a circle around the hole. Several of these explosions happened around the children and the willow, surrounding them; their screams were barely heard over the sounds. An high pitched laugh shattered the scene, and Harry snapped his eyes open, finding himself facing a wide open window.
Harry's heart was racing; his brilliant green eyes darted all around the room. He was breathing hard, and his hands and face were clammy. His whole body was shaking violently. The infinite silence was haunting. It was unbearable.
He thought he heard laughter on the street, but was sure he was imagining it. He did, however, walk closer to the window and gazed out it.
He was right, there was no one. It could not have been any of the neighbor's kids, simply because none of Harry's neighbors had any young children. He shook his head, as if trying to get rid of the memory of whatever it was that had just occurred.
What had it been anyway? It wasn't a memory, for nothing like that had ever happened to Harry, not like the Dursleys ever took him to parks anyway. Nor was it a story he had ever heard. So where did it come from? He could have hit his head on something; he could have amnesia or be delirious.
But Harry couldn't explain how he knew so surely that that wasn't the case.
How was it he remembered this "happening" so vividly? It lasted maybe five minutes at the most, yet he could practically instant replay it in his head, not like he wanted to. Yet even if he never gave it any thought in the future, he knew he would never forget it.
He went to lie down on his bed, and he again saw the scroll.
Harry's hands were still shaking slightly as he fiddled with the string holding the paper rolled together. He gave up on untying it like he usually did, and instead just slid it off. He unrolled the paper nervously. He read it in his own whisper:
Dear Harry,
I warn you once more, don't trust whom you used to. Nothing is what you think, your rhythm is reversing. Your life may seem to look up, but you must not look up when what you need is in front of you. You shall know when this time is. The sides are already shifting; you shall feel it in your life. Roles change, as you will find a new sanctuary, which will be where you never thought you should be. Ones once friends turn to ones to be lost in the world's new outlook. The sunshine acquaintance will make their decision about sides for themselves. You are not they, nor shall ever be. As the light chorus fades into the new song, you must stay true to you rhythm. Never change this. Dwell not in the past or the future, but sing for the moment. With this I can only say one more thing.
Look not to who you think you need, but look to whom you know can help you, even if they are enemies.
Sincerely,
P.1 Rebirth
P.1 Rebirth again? Who on earth was this person? And what on earth did they mean by all that talk?
What was all this gibberish about rhythm and song and music? Since when did singing come into the picture of importance? What's with all this stuff about changes? The "Light chorus" would sing a new song? That was okay with Harry, he didn't know who they were. He'll find a new sanctuary? Where was better than Hogwarts? And why would he ever find a better place? Sure it was school, but it was his home. Sing for the moment? Well, Harry, as a definite target of Voldemort, had to do whatever he needed to try for a safe future. So too bad for P.1 Rebirth. What did they mean by "sunshine acquaintance? And there was more about those sides again, like the first letter. Both letters, however, were equally weird. Just as Harry decided that they must be only as weird as the writer of them.
It killed Harry to know that some unknown witch or wizard, who would not reveal themselves, was sending him mysterious letters predicting his future.
Maybe it was Professor Trelawney. She always did seem a little "out there" about her way of life. But why would she make up some crazy name?
Harry had trouble sleeping that night for two reasons: One, he was starving from dinner, and Two, he was thinking about that letter and what had happened when he faced the window earlier that night. He rolled over in his bed and looked at the window now. It seemed perfectly normal. He stared at the ceiling, listening to the night sounds. Down the hall, he heard Uncle Vernon's loud snoring. Dudley was talking in his sleep; it was really quite funny, hearing him going on about various things. He said, "No, I want a pink dress for Barbie…". Harry tried very hard to suppress his laughter. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes.
Not the best thing for him to do.
The whispers returned.
They were softer than before, and Harry again felt the wind on his face, but it was much harder this time. His window blew open with a loud BANG!!!!
Harry sat up very quickly, staring at it. He slowly got out of his warm bed and crept across the floor to the window, where an icy wind awaited him.
It wasn't the only thing waiting.
He looked out onto the pavement below, where there were several children, one was holding a leash that was tied to a collar of a very large dog. The children stood in a circle, whispering and looking slightly serious, slightly like they were about to crack up.
One saw Harry and put up a hand to silence the others. She then nodded toward Harry in a fashion that seemed like she was trying to be discreet about it.
The others looked up at Harry. This reminded Harry of a line from that letter:
You must not look up when what you need is in front of you.
Harry related it to these children, thinking that they were looking up at him when they truly needed each other. It didn't seem to make any more sense this way than it had in the letter.
All of the children were looking up at him, each had a face with an expression that was impossible to read in the dark, but whatever it was, it seemed like it would be just as hard to read in the daylight.
This mutual staring went on for about five minutes at the most, when one of the girls said, "Come on, guys. Let's go."
The others nodded in agreement, and together they walked into the darkness, leaving Harry staring after them.
Harry did not notice when they sky turned an eerie indigo black.
Curtains Close!
I remembered to say curtains close!
Author's Note: Wow, that was a long chapter, at least longer than the others. This chapter actually came to me easiest. For that I thank my mysterious muse. It's really scaryish, reading over it. I think I just invented a word: scaryish. Fun!
So, you all know the drill: You read. Now you review.
This is Madame Starry, looking into her crystal ball, I see, well it's rather cloudy, ahhhh! It's coming to me! Aaaaahhhh, yes. In my crystal ball I see all of you reviewing!
Coincidence? I think not.
Anyways, thanx to all of my reviewers! You've all been so kind!
I love you all!
Ciao!
~Starry