Disclaimer: See last the first chapter if you really like to read people's
disclaimers.
'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'
Mind Games
Chapter Two
"Longbottom you incompetent fool! What have you done wrong now?!?" Snape shouted at the boy as he stalked towards the quivering lump and the hissing potion.
'That incompetent whelp! I really wish Albus would just let me kick Longbottom out of this class for good. Everything be damned if I have to wait another year for the fool to be out of here. Longbottom strikes again! Third caldron this week, and I've only had two classes with the boy. It's bad enough having Potter in this class, but Longbottom too? Someone up there must really hate me,' silently steamed Snape.
"You daft, fool boy. As ludicrous as it seems, your incompetence amazes me still. When will you ever be able to brew a potion right for a change, you daft imbecile. I find it hard to . . ."
Snape stopped suddenly as he was interrupted by a loud, and rather crude exclamation from Weasley. Snape's nasty reprimand died on his lips though, as he turned around to reprimand Weasley for his language. For there was Potter's potion, and by all appearances it looked like it was about to explode, which it did, and Potter took the full bunt of it.
To say that most of the class and its teacher were surprised to find an unconscious Harry Potter was an understatement. In fact, they just hoped he was unconscious and not dead. Well, at least the majority did.
"HARRY!" screamed Hermione as she emerged from under the table with Ron. Snape hurried over to were Harry lay with Hermione crying over him.
"Mobile Corpus," said Snape as he directed Harry's body towards the door. He turned around and glared at them all.
"If I find out who sabotaged Mr. Potter's potion, I will personally see to it that that person is expelled. I expect for someone to clean this mess up, and then to resume your potions. If I come back to find anything to my disliking, then I'll take more points off Gryffindor and Slytherin that your children's children will still have problems getting them back in the positives," threatened Snape.
Hermione and Ron made to follow Snape, but Snape held up his hand to stop them. "No Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, you both will stay here," said Snape.
"But sir . . ." started Ron, but was interrupted by Snape.
"No Mr. Weasley and that is final," said Snape as he swooped out of the room, Harry's body following obediently behind.
'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'
Harry groggily came back around. His head pounded and his body felt as if it weighed more than was humanly natural. Well, exception being if your name happened to be Vernon or Dudley Dursley of course.
He opened his eyes and was surprised that he could see clearly. 'Strange,' mused Harry, 'I must still have on my glasses.'
One look at the starch white ceilings and matching walls, and he knew he was in the Hospital Wing. He groaned loudly. Great, first week back, and he already got himself landed in the Hospital Wing.
He tried to sit up, but found this action far more difficult than was usual. Finally, he accomplished the seemingly impossible feat, and was able to sit up properly without falling right back down. It was then that he heard voices coming his way from outside the Hospital Wing doors.
"When do you think he will awake from his coma, Poppy," asked the grave voice of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"I have no idea, Albus. It could be a day or even a year before he comes around. The poor boy is lucky to be alive," replied Madam Pomfrey.
Harry wondered who had ended up in a coma. Was it someone he knew? He hoped it wasn't. He felt sorry for who ever it was though.
"Why is it always Harry that these kind of things happen to? He's such a nice boy," said the teary voice of Professor McGonnagal. That's funny. It almost sounded like she had said that a boy named "Harry" was in a coma. He didn't know anybody else by the name of Harry except himself. 'Must be a first year,' thought Harry.
"I disagree with you on that, Minerva. Potter has always been an impertinent brat, and I do believe he enjoys the attention. He probably did this all on purpose," snapped Snape.
"Why Severus, I never . . ." started McGonnagal angrily, but Dumbledore interrupted.
"Now hush you two. There is a child on the other side of this door in a coma, and this is a Hospital Wing. This is not the time nor the place for such petty arguments," admonished the Headmaster. Snape sneered and McGonnagal looked somewhat embarrassed.
"I apologize for my behavior, Albus. I realize that this really isn't the time to be fighting with Severus," said McGonnagal. Snape just gave a non- conmental grunt.
Harry's head was reeling at what he had just overheard. He had been in a coma? Well, he was thankful that he recovered so quickly! He might have missed the upcoming Quidditch game against Slytherin.
The Professors and Madam Pomfrey entered the room, and Harry was surprised to note that Dumbledore's ever-twinkling eyes lacked their usual twinkle. He was even more surprised to see that McGonnagal had tearstains on her face, and he was floored to see that Snape even looked a little sympathetic towards him. But what confused him was that they didn't seem to notice that he was awake.
"Professors?" asked Harry tentatively. They didn't even bat an eye at him. They just continued to stare at him. That is, until Madam Pomfrey approached him with the weird wizarding thermometer that was supposed to measure not only your temperature, but also blood sugar, cholesterol, and brain injury among other things. Harry recognized it, for he had quite a few experiences with the thing, but for the life of him he couldn't remember its name.
Harry stood up quickly on wobbly feet. "What's going on? I'm okay, right? Why won't anybody answer me?!" exclaimed Harry. He was starting to worry. Did he contract some sort of lethal poison when he swallowed the potion? When no one seemed to hear him, he decided to try again.
"Hello? Madam Pomfrey? Professor Dumbledore? Can you even hear me? Answer me!" demanded Harry. Although, Madam Pomfrey just kept advancing with her curious instrument. What happened next, freaked Harry out. Badly. Madam Pomfrey walked straight through him. It was like he wasn't even there.
With a startled yell, Harry turned around quickly and came face to face with his own pale, drawn features. He watched Madam Pomfrey go about checking him with the wizarding thermometer. She hadn't seen him. He started breathing rapidly. Either he was a ghost, or, well, he didn't know what.
"He's doing okay," said Pomfrey after she had finished checking on Harry's still form, "Better than I expected. I believe if my assumptions are correct, that he will awaken sometime late November, about two months from now."
This calmed Harry down somewhat. Apparently he was just having an out-of- body experience or something. At least he wasn't dead, or at least he hoped not.
"That is wonderful news," said the Headmaster, "I'm happy that he won't miss too much of his life. Although, I'm afraid that I must attend to business elsewhere. Please, Poppy, do inform me of any changes in Mr. Potter."
"Of course, Headmaster," responded Madam Pomfrey dutifully. Snape and McGonnagal also left, and Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. It was weird for Harry, to be staring down at his own body. It wasn't like looking in a mirror. It was more like looking in your home from the outside of a window. Like looking in and watching your family on a cold, snowy night with fire crackling merrily in the background and them enjoying hot cocoa. You knew you should be in there too, enjoying the warmth, but you had no way of getting in, for the door was locked.
Harry sighed audibly. He had to figure out a way to get back into his body. Over the next couple of hours, Harry tried lying down on his body, which he hoped would somehow suck up his spirit, and various other ways to rejoin with his body, although none of them worked. He even tried squeezing up his nose. It wasn't a pleasant experience.
Harry sat dejectedly in the chair near his bed. He guessed he would just have to wait for two months until his body woke up, which would then, hopefully, drag his spirit back into his body. Harry sighed again as he glanced at his new wristwatch he had gotten for his fifteenth birthday less than a month ago. Classes would be over in another three hours, and no doubt Hermione and Ron would be up to visit. And they certainly couldn't help him.
Harry fiddled with a quill that was lying on his bedside table, absently running the smooth feather up and down the arm of the chair. He usually fiddled with things when he was bored. He suddenly stopped and stared at the feather. He could feel it. He could touch it. He could lift it! He could write to someone that he was somehow out of his body, and he could get help.
Harry smiled to himself, but soon that grin faltered. Did he really want to go back to the "Land of the Living" so to speak, so soon? He was supposed to wake up in a few months anyway, why not have a little vacation? One that he could enjoy.
Harry suddenly had an inspiration. If he could move things, and couldn't be seen, then he could cause some major chaos in Hogwarts. Imagine all the pranks he could pull on Snape and the Slytherins, and no one would be the wiser.
Harry's face took on a truly evil smirk. He would live up to the Marauder's legacy. Harry James Potter, newly appointed "poltergeist" of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was going to be a force to be reckoned with, and the castle's inhabitants were going to find that out very soon indeed.
'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@
A/N: Whew! I'm starting to see cross eyed from staring at the screen so long. I've been typing for four hours!!!! I am sooo tired!
Please review and tell me what you think of this story. Your support means a lot to me. Thanks,
Siripiritus
'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'
Mind Games
Chapter Two
"Longbottom you incompetent fool! What have you done wrong now?!?" Snape shouted at the boy as he stalked towards the quivering lump and the hissing potion.
'That incompetent whelp! I really wish Albus would just let me kick Longbottom out of this class for good. Everything be damned if I have to wait another year for the fool to be out of here. Longbottom strikes again! Third caldron this week, and I've only had two classes with the boy. It's bad enough having Potter in this class, but Longbottom too? Someone up there must really hate me,' silently steamed Snape.
"You daft, fool boy. As ludicrous as it seems, your incompetence amazes me still. When will you ever be able to brew a potion right for a change, you daft imbecile. I find it hard to . . ."
Snape stopped suddenly as he was interrupted by a loud, and rather crude exclamation from Weasley. Snape's nasty reprimand died on his lips though, as he turned around to reprimand Weasley for his language. For there was Potter's potion, and by all appearances it looked like it was about to explode, which it did, and Potter took the full bunt of it.
To say that most of the class and its teacher were surprised to find an unconscious Harry Potter was an understatement. In fact, they just hoped he was unconscious and not dead. Well, at least the majority did.
"HARRY!" screamed Hermione as she emerged from under the table with Ron. Snape hurried over to were Harry lay with Hermione crying over him.
"Mobile Corpus," said Snape as he directed Harry's body towards the door. He turned around and glared at them all.
"If I find out who sabotaged Mr. Potter's potion, I will personally see to it that that person is expelled. I expect for someone to clean this mess up, and then to resume your potions. If I come back to find anything to my disliking, then I'll take more points off Gryffindor and Slytherin that your children's children will still have problems getting them back in the positives," threatened Snape.
Hermione and Ron made to follow Snape, but Snape held up his hand to stop them. "No Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley, you both will stay here," said Snape.
"But sir . . ." started Ron, but was interrupted by Snape.
"No Mr. Weasley and that is final," said Snape as he swooped out of the room, Harry's body following obediently behind.
'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'
Harry groggily came back around. His head pounded and his body felt as if it weighed more than was humanly natural. Well, exception being if your name happened to be Vernon or Dudley Dursley of course.
He opened his eyes and was surprised that he could see clearly. 'Strange,' mused Harry, 'I must still have on my glasses.'
One look at the starch white ceilings and matching walls, and he knew he was in the Hospital Wing. He groaned loudly. Great, first week back, and he already got himself landed in the Hospital Wing.
He tried to sit up, but found this action far more difficult than was usual. Finally, he accomplished the seemingly impossible feat, and was able to sit up properly without falling right back down. It was then that he heard voices coming his way from outside the Hospital Wing doors.
"When do you think he will awake from his coma, Poppy," asked the grave voice of Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
"I have no idea, Albus. It could be a day or even a year before he comes around. The poor boy is lucky to be alive," replied Madam Pomfrey.
Harry wondered who had ended up in a coma. Was it someone he knew? He hoped it wasn't. He felt sorry for who ever it was though.
"Why is it always Harry that these kind of things happen to? He's such a nice boy," said the teary voice of Professor McGonnagal. That's funny. It almost sounded like she had said that a boy named "Harry" was in a coma. He didn't know anybody else by the name of Harry except himself. 'Must be a first year,' thought Harry.
"I disagree with you on that, Minerva. Potter has always been an impertinent brat, and I do believe he enjoys the attention. He probably did this all on purpose," snapped Snape.
"Why Severus, I never . . ." started McGonnagal angrily, but Dumbledore interrupted.
"Now hush you two. There is a child on the other side of this door in a coma, and this is a Hospital Wing. This is not the time nor the place for such petty arguments," admonished the Headmaster. Snape sneered and McGonnagal looked somewhat embarrassed.
"I apologize for my behavior, Albus. I realize that this really isn't the time to be fighting with Severus," said McGonnagal. Snape just gave a non- conmental grunt.
Harry's head was reeling at what he had just overheard. He had been in a coma? Well, he was thankful that he recovered so quickly! He might have missed the upcoming Quidditch game against Slytherin.
The Professors and Madam Pomfrey entered the room, and Harry was surprised to note that Dumbledore's ever-twinkling eyes lacked their usual twinkle. He was even more surprised to see that McGonnagal had tearstains on her face, and he was floored to see that Snape even looked a little sympathetic towards him. But what confused him was that they didn't seem to notice that he was awake.
"Professors?" asked Harry tentatively. They didn't even bat an eye at him. They just continued to stare at him. That is, until Madam Pomfrey approached him with the weird wizarding thermometer that was supposed to measure not only your temperature, but also blood sugar, cholesterol, and brain injury among other things. Harry recognized it, for he had quite a few experiences with the thing, but for the life of him he couldn't remember its name.
Harry stood up quickly on wobbly feet. "What's going on? I'm okay, right? Why won't anybody answer me?!" exclaimed Harry. He was starting to worry. Did he contract some sort of lethal poison when he swallowed the potion? When no one seemed to hear him, he decided to try again.
"Hello? Madam Pomfrey? Professor Dumbledore? Can you even hear me? Answer me!" demanded Harry. Although, Madam Pomfrey just kept advancing with her curious instrument. What happened next, freaked Harry out. Badly. Madam Pomfrey walked straight through him. It was like he wasn't even there.
With a startled yell, Harry turned around quickly and came face to face with his own pale, drawn features. He watched Madam Pomfrey go about checking him with the wizarding thermometer. She hadn't seen him. He started breathing rapidly. Either he was a ghost, or, well, he didn't know what.
"He's doing okay," said Pomfrey after she had finished checking on Harry's still form, "Better than I expected. I believe if my assumptions are correct, that he will awaken sometime late November, about two months from now."
This calmed Harry down somewhat. Apparently he was just having an out-of- body experience or something. At least he wasn't dead, or at least he hoped not.
"That is wonderful news," said the Headmaster, "I'm happy that he won't miss too much of his life. Although, I'm afraid that I must attend to business elsewhere. Please, Poppy, do inform me of any changes in Mr. Potter."
"Of course, Headmaster," responded Madam Pomfrey dutifully. Snape and McGonnagal also left, and Madam Pomfrey returned to her office. It was weird for Harry, to be staring down at his own body. It wasn't like looking in a mirror. It was more like looking in your home from the outside of a window. Like looking in and watching your family on a cold, snowy night with fire crackling merrily in the background and them enjoying hot cocoa. You knew you should be in there too, enjoying the warmth, but you had no way of getting in, for the door was locked.
Harry sighed audibly. He had to figure out a way to get back into his body. Over the next couple of hours, Harry tried lying down on his body, which he hoped would somehow suck up his spirit, and various other ways to rejoin with his body, although none of them worked. He even tried squeezing up his nose. It wasn't a pleasant experience.
Harry sat dejectedly in the chair near his bed. He guessed he would just have to wait for two months until his body woke up, which would then, hopefully, drag his spirit back into his body. Harry sighed again as he glanced at his new wristwatch he had gotten for his fifteenth birthday less than a month ago. Classes would be over in another three hours, and no doubt Hermione and Ron would be up to visit. And they certainly couldn't help him.
Harry fiddled with a quill that was lying on his bedside table, absently running the smooth feather up and down the arm of the chair. He usually fiddled with things when he was bored. He suddenly stopped and stared at the feather. He could feel it. He could touch it. He could lift it! He could write to someone that he was somehow out of his body, and he could get help.
Harry smiled to himself, but soon that grin faltered. Did he really want to go back to the "Land of the Living" so to speak, so soon? He was supposed to wake up in a few months anyway, why not have a little vacation? One that he could enjoy.
Harry suddenly had an inspiration. If he could move things, and couldn't be seen, then he could cause some major chaos in Hogwarts. Imagine all the pranks he could pull on Snape and the Slytherins, and no one would be the wiser.
Harry's face took on a truly evil smirk. He would live up to the Marauder's legacy. Harry James Potter, newly appointed "poltergeist" of Hogwart's School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was going to be a force to be reckoned with, and the castle's inhabitants were going to find that out very soon indeed.
'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@'~'@
A/N: Whew! I'm starting to see cross eyed from staring at the screen so long. I've been typing for four hours!!!! I am sooo tired!
Please review and tell me what you think of this story. Your support means a lot to me. Thanks,
Siripiritus