Disclaimer: Harry Potter is a creation by JK Rowling, a writing genius. I,
am not a writing genius. I'm just borrowing her charactors, and putting
them in a plotline of my own for amusement purposes for myself and
hopefully you. I am not making any money off of writing this.
This may contain spoilers. Even though, I'm sure people have already read OotP..
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To Review.. After coming back to Snape's maner from a day at the Burrow, Harry finds the place dark. His mind is whipped blank, and he falls down the stairs, laying unconscious, and bleeding. Snape comes home from a meeting, and finds Harry. He alerts Dumbledore and Sirius. Destiny, the distressed house elf, tells Severus of what she saw in the house.
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Sirius woke Harry up early. Harry groaned in digust of the time, but got up. Sirius dragged Harry around, cheerfully. Harry was having a good time once he woke up, and Sirius made sure of him being awake, after taking him to the lake and pushing him in. They played Quidditch, or at least attempted to.
After spending the morning with Sirius, Harry found himself in front of the fire in Albus Dumbledore's office, where Fawkes was watching his every move. To be honest, Harry was watching Fawkes too. Harry moved to bet the phoenix, but Fawkes backed away on his perch. Harry frowned in disappointment, and felt Sirius's hand fall onto his shoulder. "Beautiful bird, huh?" The last minutes with Sirius was awkward, and silent. The attempt to make conversation would only make it harder to say goodbye. It seemed they were always saying goodbye. Harry just nodded to respond to Sirius, not finding words to reply. Finally Harry looked up at his Godfather, seeing sadness in his eyes.
Harry started, "Sirius," His Godfather's face had curiousity written all over it, as Harry inhaled. He knew that it was moronic to ask, but he wanted to here it from Sirius, not from Snape or Dumbledore. "How come I can't stay with you?"
Sirius frowned slightly, his hand on Harry's shoulder still there, like a comfort. He exhaled, "Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea." Harry could clearly see that Sirius thought it was a good idea, but he wanted to try, leaving angry was easier leaving depressed.
"Dumbledore clearly isn't in his right mind! I'm safer with you than with Snape! Snape's a Death E-" His words of Dumbledore, even though he knew he didn't think Dumbledore was out of his mind, he was angry at Dumbledore for putting a distance between him and his Godfather. Harry stopped speaking when the fire made a loud noise, as if gas was poured onto it.
Green and chocolate brown eyes looked over at the fire. It was perfect timing on Severus's part. His black hollow eyes, hook nose, and greasy black hair was noticable. Sirius glared at the Potion's Master, and barked, "Snivellus.. you're late."
Snape sneered, stepping out of the fire, "To correct your statement, Black, you are late. You were supposed to send the boy five minutes ago." He dusted his black robes off, and continued, "I have things to do, potions to brew, meetings to attend. I can't be running around making sure Potter hasn't killed himself."
The comment about Harry being suicidal got to Sirius. His clutch on Harry's shoulder tightened, and he growled, "I think you misunderstood Dumbledore. You were to collect Harry because it's not safe for a boy like-" He caught his words, feeling Harry's soft green eyes on him. "It's not safe with Voldemort in power."
Harry snapped, "So everyone thinks that I can't take care of myself? That's it, isn't it?" He seemed much like Draco was when he didn't get his way, Severus noted. Harry continued with that, "No one can say they've battled the Dark Lord and survived to tell the tale-" Sirius remained mute. Harry's anger just continued to grow.
Severus then decided to step in, before something was broken. "Potter. Stop boasting, and get in the fire." Harry didn't need to be told twice, he went in without casting a glance towards his Godfather. Severus's cold eyes looked at Sirius, as he growled, "And now I have to deal with his anger your created." He stepped into the fire and left. Sirius slumped down in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, and put his hands in his face. Fawkes shifted on his post, and made a small noise.
Coming out of the fire, Snape saw his step-brother's son sitting on the couch. Snape dusted his black robes off, and stood up straight, almost trying to be more threatening to the angry Potter. Snape snapped, "Have you ate yet, Potter?"
Emerald eyes looked up, at being addressed. Harry replied almost normally, "I'm not hungry, sir." It was clear that Harry wasn't angry. Short-tempered yes, ill-mannered yes, but it was understandable for his age, and his position on not-knowing what was going on. Harry thought Snape wasn't going to say anything more, so he got up and headed to go up to his room.
Snape snatched his arm, "Oh no, you don't, Potter," He took out a list, "You have a few tasks to complete today." Harry took the list without questioning, and Snape mumbled something about staying out of the east wing of the Maner for the day, as he stalked off, his black robes trailing behind him.
Tasks was right, as Harry looked at the list. Snape always knew what words to pick, if he chose chores, it'd be an understatement. Harry's first task was dusting. He went to the kitchen to get the duster, and noticed Destiny wasn't in the kitchen. The house elves were busily making dinner, and didn't speak to him. Harry noted that Snape would have usually had Destiny do these tasks, remembering back to some of Destiny's many ramblings before Harry taught her another song. He dusted the main rooms, and the room they used for travelling through the floo-network.
He heard noises from the east wing, but ignored it. Whatever it was, Harry was forbidden to enter the wing. He knew that Snape would strike him dead in an instant if he found him trying to find out why he couldn't go over there today. Snape's den was over there, so maybe that was why. Either way, it was still very alluring to Harry.
He finished dusting and moved to the next task. He was in the hall sweeping, when he heard portraits whispering. He tried to ignore them, but they seemed to be talking about him. "He's a bit large for a house elf. What is he?" The portrait speaking was a dark haired, pale woman, who looked about forty. The date under the portrait and the name Amore Camelai Snape. It must've been Snape's grandmother. Harry never said anything. He just kept sweeping. Amore continued her taunting, along with teasing about his size, his glasses, his hair, she made fun of his scar. Harry quickly finished sweeping. Deciding torment was hereditary in the Snape family.
By early evening, Harry had got to the last of his chores, which was wash the floor where the stairs were, which went in the west wing. The floor was beautifully crafted, the craving in the tiles was all hand done, and had to be polished, and taken care of very well. Harry had gotten all the way to the stairs, when he saw a blood stain at the foot of the staircase. He let his fingers draw along the stain. He wondered how long the stain was there. His scar tingled. He sighed and started to scrub.
When the stain hadn't moved at all, Harry started wondering if the tiles were replaceable. He doubted it. They looked rather old. No matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn't remove the stain. Surely Snape wouldn't be too angry if he couldn't clean the tile, would he? Then again, it was Snape he was talking about. Snape would probably make him scrub cauldrons to make up for the incomplete cleaned floor.
Harry's mind wandered back to when he was at Hogwarts with Sirius. Sirius really didn't think Harry could take care of himself, did he? His blood seemed to boil. Sirius is the only person Harry thought would understand, but they all treat him like a child. He was almost fifteen! Snape made sure there was order in Harry's life, and kept him on his toes, and for that, Harry respected him. He hated Snape, of course, that would never change, but respect.. On cue, Snape walked down the stairs. Harry had stopped scrubbing while he was pondering his thoughts. "Potter." Snape said, almost like he was asking why he had stopped.
Harry started scrubbing once more, and responded, "Sir?" His scar seemed to feel the scrubbing. It was itching. His scar felt very raw, like an open wound. He knew it wasn't, but it felt fresh.
Snape looked at the expression on Harry's face, and asked, "Any luck with that stain?" Harry shook his head in answering. "Damnit." Snape said. He then snapped, "Go wash up for dinner, Potter." Harry was right, Snape would probably add to the task list since he couldn't get rid of one stain.
Harry went to the washroom, and let the water run to heat up a bit. He washed his face, and his hands, then looked in the mirror after drying his face. He saw a small gash hardily visable. It seemed fairly new, but when had Harry hit his head? Did he not notice getting hit in the head? Wait.. what about the blood near the stairs? Did he fall? That did make some sense, but how did he fall? He was holding onto the railing, he knew that.
Then he remembered how Percy was holding onto his arm. And wouldn't let go. Percy must've cursed him to make him fall! But why? Was Percy a Death Eater? Sure, Percy was power-hungry, but he wouldn't turn to the Dark Side.. would he?
Harry walked downstairs, and sat down in his usual spot for dinner. Dinner was served by a different house elf. He had what appeared to be a muggle dryer sheet as an outfir, and he had large pile of dust in his hair. Snape thanked the elf by the name of Dusty. Well, the name did suit the elf. Dusty scurried away instantly. Harry then asked, "Where's Destiny?"
Snape didn't look up from his meal, he had a sip of pumpkin juice, and then said calmly, "She's taking a few days rest." He stabbed his steak with his fork and started to cut the meat.
Harry then pointed out, staring at the steak Snape was cutting. "House elves don't like vacations, though."
Snape looked up, and said apparently annoyed, "She didn't have much choice in the matter." He looked at Harry as if to say, 'do not interrupt me with my meal again, I have a knife'. He then turned to his meal.
Harry sipped at the pumpkin juice in front of him, and then started to cut at his steak. He then said, "Professor.."
Snape set down his fork, but still held his knife, warning Harry. He snapped, "What is it now, Potter?" Harry could clearly see Snape was trying to make his face look scary. It was rather funny, actually.
He pointed to the gash on his head, and asked, "What happened here?" Snape looked at the boy. Did he not remember? What did he think he was in the Hospital Wing for?
Snape replied simply, "You fell." Harry didn't ask anymore questions at dinner.
Harry went to his room, and sat on his bed thinking. Snape probably pushed him down the stairs and whipped his memory, he concluded. Then he destroyed that theory, because Sirius did say that Snape brought him to the Hospital Wing, but Sirius didn't actually say why.. Harry decided the only way he'd find out what happened was if he talked to Snape about it, no matter how angry he got.
Harry went to look for Snape. He was in the living room reading a book. Harry knew just interrupting his reading would tick him off, but questioning him, would probably end up having Harry doing tasks for a week. "Professor.. what happened last night?"
Snape sighed aggravated, and responded with annoyance in his voice, "What do you remember of last night?" So like Snape to answer a question Harry needed answered with another question.
Harry said simply in reponse, "I came home from the Burrow, and started to go upstairs to my room. Everything went black, and then I was in the Hospital Wing." Snape moved his eyebrows as if was in deep thought, "Professor, what did happen?"
Snape responded, "I don't know, Potter. Your guess is as good as mine." He said the last bit as if he highly doubted it, but he thought that it would get Harry to leave.
Harry rocked slightly on his feet as then said, "Professor, when I was at the Weasleys, Percy was rather odd." Snape pretended to be interested in the fact that Harry thought Percy was a guilty party.
Snape said, "Oh really? Do go on." He said it almost sarcastically, but Harry did continue.
"I almost fell.." At this Snape rolled his eyes, but listened to the boy anyway, "Percy snatched my arm to make sure I didn't fall, but he wouldn't let go." Snape didn't say anything, "He seemed to be concentrating pretty hard." Harry added.
Snape lowered his book to his lap, "Potter, do you really think a Weasley would try to hurt a precious hair on your head?" Saying Weasley like it was an insult, and then Snape added, "Percy Weasley is in the Ministry, he's well-respected and-"
Harry interrupted, "So is Mr. Malfoy, and he's a Death Eater."
Snape narrowed his eyes, and said, "The day Percy Weasley's a Death Eater is the day you complete a perfect potion." He then picked up his book and started to read. Harry went to his room.
Slumping onto his bed, Harry wondered, who could he tell that would believe him? Or give him some sort of idea what could've happened? Harry then got up, and went to his desk, knowing exactly who he'd talk to. He went to the desk, taking out some parchment, a quill and inkwell. He started writing. When he was done, he read it over to himself.
Dear Hermione,
How is your summer so far? Mine is proving to be more eventful then I thought it'd be, being at Snape's Maner. His house elf is a nut, but he does treat her well. She's rather entertaining.
Yesterday I went to Ron's. Percy was rather odd. You see, I tripped, and I almost fell, but Percy snatched my arm to stabilize me. It was all fine until he wouldn't let go. He was concentrating, I think. Anyway, when I got back to the Maner, it was all dark. I was heading up to my room, so I was going up the stairs. Everything all of a sudden went black, and the next I knew I was in the Hospital Wing, Sirius at my side.
Snape told me I fell, but that's all I know. Well, that and the blood stain at the edge of the stairs, and the gash in my head. Do you have any ideas on what could've happened? Snape isn't much help for this, I don't want to write to Sirius right now, and I'd think Ron would be angry if I was accusing his brother of anything. I'd rather not open a can of worms, in case I don't know how to fish, if you know what I mean?
Anyway, I better go stare at the walls. Let life pass me by.
Love Harry
Harry stared at the walls, wondering what it'd like for them to close in, what it'd be like if they grew bigger. His eyes grew heavier, but still he stared. His emerald eyes shut, and he finally difted into a nap.
All around him, was dark. He saw red eyes, in the darkness, and he cautiously walked towards the eyes, seeing green light. There was a hiss, like a large amount of hot steam was being expelled from a pipe at high speeds. He got to a door, where the green light was coming from, through the cracks in the door. He saw some strange writing on the door, but it was too dark to see what it said, or where the door handle was. He reached for his wand and felt it wasn't there. He heard someone hiss, "Finally, Potter.. now open the door, the Dark Lord awaits." He looked up to person to see...
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The plots are written. I just need to get plots to chapters, and get chapters onto the site. Just be patient, I hadn't looked over my plots for a few months, and finally took them out, they're pretty damn good. Thank you readers for being so patient with me. I'm trying to keep a life going, while keeping a story alive, and so writing is neglected. So sorry. I know how much it bugs me when I'm reading a fic and it's taking forever for the author to write. Semester one is finally over, and so I feel less stress, and can take time to write. At least a little bit. I was thinking about this.. you see, when the summer comes, this fic will be two years old and still not completed, so I really have to get going. Expect sooner updates than five month periods.
Not to spoil anything from upcoming chapters, but I will tell you this.. someone will die..
This may contain spoilers. Even though, I'm sure people have already read OotP..
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To Review.. After coming back to Snape's maner from a day at the Burrow, Harry finds the place dark. His mind is whipped blank, and he falls down the stairs, laying unconscious, and bleeding. Snape comes home from a meeting, and finds Harry. He alerts Dumbledore and Sirius. Destiny, the distressed house elf, tells Severus of what she saw in the house.
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Sirius woke Harry up early. Harry groaned in digust of the time, but got up. Sirius dragged Harry around, cheerfully. Harry was having a good time once he woke up, and Sirius made sure of him being awake, after taking him to the lake and pushing him in. They played Quidditch, or at least attempted to.
After spending the morning with Sirius, Harry found himself in front of the fire in Albus Dumbledore's office, where Fawkes was watching his every move. To be honest, Harry was watching Fawkes too. Harry moved to bet the phoenix, but Fawkes backed away on his perch. Harry frowned in disappointment, and felt Sirius's hand fall onto his shoulder. "Beautiful bird, huh?" The last minutes with Sirius was awkward, and silent. The attempt to make conversation would only make it harder to say goodbye. It seemed they were always saying goodbye. Harry just nodded to respond to Sirius, not finding words to reply. Finally Harry looked up at his Godfather, seeing sadness in his eyes.
Harry started, "Sirius," His Godfather's face had curiousity written all over it, as Harry inhaled. He knew that it was moronic to ask, but he wanted to here it from Sirius, not from Snape or Dumbledore. "How come I can't stay with you?"
Sirius frowned slightly, his hand on Harry's shoulder still there, like a comfort. He exhaled, "Dumbledore doesn't think it's a good idea." Harry could clearly see that Sirius thought it was a good idea, but he wanted to try, leaving angry was easier leaving depressed.
"Dumbledore clearly isn't in his right mind! I'm safer with you than with Snape! Snape's a Death E-" His words of Dumbledore, even though he knew he didn't think Dumbledore was out of his mind, he was angry at Dumbledore for putting a distance between him and his Godfather. Harry stopped speaking when the fire made a loud noise, as if gas was poured onto it.
Green and chocolate brown eyes looked over at the fire. It was perfect timing on Severus's part. His black hollow eyes, hook nose, and greasy black hair was noticable. Sirius glared at the Potion's Master, and barked, "Snivellus.. you're late."
Snape sneered, stepping out of the fire, "To correct your statement, Black, you are late. You were supposed to send the boy five minutes ago." He dusted his black robes off, and continued, "I have things to do, potions to brew, meetings to attend. I can't be running around making sure Potter hasn't killed himself."
The comment about Harry being suicidal got to Sirius. His clutch on Harry's shoulder tightened, and he growled, "I think you misunderstood Dumbledore. You were to collect Harry because it's not safe for a boy like-" He caught his words, feeling Harry's soft green eyes on him. "It's not safe with Voldemort in power."
Harry snapped, "So everyone thinks that I can't take care of myself? That's it, isn't it?" He seemed much like Draco was when he didn't get his way, Severus noted. Harry continued with that, "No one can say they've battled the Dark Lord and survived to tell the tale-" Sirius remained mute. Harry's anger just continued to grow.
Severus then decided to step in, before something was broken. "Potter. Stop boasting, and get in the fire." Harry didn't need to be told twice, he went in without casting a glance towards his Godfather. Severus's cold eyes looked at Sirius, as he growled, "And now I have to deal with his anger your created." He stepped into the fire and left. Sirius slumped down in the chair in front of Dumbledore's desk, and put his hands in his face. Fawkes shifted on his post, and made a small noise.
Coming out of the fire, Snape saw his step-brother's son sitting on the couch. Snape dusted his black robes off, and stood up straight, almost trying to be more threatening to the angry Potter. Snape snapped, "Have you ate yet, Potter?"
Emerald eyes looked up, at being addressed. Harry replied almost normally, "I'm not hungry, sir." It was clear that Harry wasn't angry. Short-tempered yes, ill-mannered yes, but it was understandable for his age, and his position on not-knowing what was going on. Harry thought Snape wasn't going to say anything more, so he got up and headed to go up to his room.
Snape snatched his arm, "Oh no, you don't, Potter," He took out a list, "You have a few tasks to complete today." Harry took the list without questioning, and Snape mumbled something about staying out of the east wing of the Maner for the day, as he stalked off, his black robes trailing behind him.
Tasks was right, as Harry looked at the list. Snape always knew what words to pick, if he chose chores, it'd be an understatement. Harry's first task was dusting. He went to the kitchen to get the duster, and noticed Destiny wasn't in the kitchen. The house elves were busily making dinner, and didn't speak to him. Harry noted that Snape would have usually had Destiny do these tasks, remembering back to some of Destiny's many ramblings before Harry taught her another song. He dusted the main rooms, and the room they used for travelling through the floo-network.
He heard noises from the east wing, but ignored it. Whatever it was, Harry was forbidden to enter the wing. He knew that Snape would strike him dead in an instant if he found him trying to find out why he couldn't go over there today. Snape's den was over there, so maybe that was why. Either way, it was still very alluring to Harry.
He finished dusting and moved to the next task. He was in the hall sweeping, when he heard portraits whispering. He tried to ignore them, but they seemed to be talking about him. "He's a bit large for a house elf. What is he?" The portrait speaking was a dark haired, pale woman, who looked about forty. The date under the portrait and the name Amore Camelai Snape. It must've been Snape's grandmother. Harry never said anything. He just kept sweeping. Amore continued her taunting, along with teasing about his size, his glasses, his hair, she made fun of his scar. Harry quickly finished sweeping. Deciding torment was hereditary in the Snape family.
By early evening, Harry had got to the last of his chores, which was wash the floor where the stairs were, which went in the west wing. The floor was beautifully crafted, the craving in the tiles was all hand done, and had to be polished, and taken care of very well. Harry had gotten all the way to the stairs, when he saw a blood stain at the foot of the staircase. He let his fingers draw along the stain. He wondered how long the stain was there. His scar tingled. He sighed and started to scrub.
When the stain hadn't moved at all, Harry started wondering if the tiles were replaceable. He doubted it. They looked rather old. No matter how hard Harry tried, he couldn't remove the stain. Surely Snape wouldn't be too angry if he couldn't clean the tile, would he? Then again, it was Snape he was talking about. Snape would probably make him scrub cauldrons to make up for the incomplete cleaned floor.
Harry's mind wandered back to when he was at Hogwarts with Sirius. Sirius really didn't think Harry could take care of himself, did he? His blood seemed to boil. Sirius is the only person Harry thought would understand, but they all treat him like a child. He was almost fifteen! Snape made sure there was order in Harry's life, and kept him on his toes, and for that, Harry respected him. He hated Snape, of course, that would never change, but respect.. On cue, Snape walked down the stairs. Harry had stopped scrubbing while he was pondering his thoughts. "Potter." Snape said, almost like he was asking why he had stopped.
Harry started scrubbing once more, and responded, "Sir?" His scar seemed to feel the scrubbing. It was itching. His scar felt very raw, like an open wound. He knew it wasn't, but it felt fresh.
Snape looked at the expression on Harry's face, and asked, "Any luck with that stain?" Harry shook his head in answering. "Damnit." Snape said. He then snapped, "Go wash up for dinner, Potter." Harry was right, Snape would probably add to the task list since he couldn't get rid of one stain.
Harry went to the washroom, and let the water run to heat up a bit. He washed his face, and his hands, then looked in the mirror after drying his face. He saw a small gash hardily visable. It seemed fairly new, but when had Harry hit his head? Did he not notice getting hit in the head? Wait.. what about the blood near the stairs? Did he fall? That did make some sense, but how did he fall? He was holding onto the railing, he knew that.
Then he remembered how Percy was holding onto his arm. And wouldn't let go. Percy must've cursed him to make him fall! But why? Was Percy a Death Eater? Sure, Percy was power-hungry, but he wouldn't turn to the Dark Side.. would he?
Harry walked downstairs, and sat down in his usual spot for dinner. Dinner was served by a different house elf. He had what appeared to be a muggle dryer sheet as an outfir, and he had large pile of dust in his hair. Snape thanked the elf by the name of Dusty. Well, the name did suit the elf. Dusty scurried away instantly. Harry then asked, "Where's Destiny?"
Snape didn't look up from his meal, he had a sip of pumpkin juice, and then said calmly, "She's taking a few days rest." He stabbed his steak with his fork and started to cut the meat.
Harry then pointed out, staring at the steak Snape was cutting. "House elves don't like vacations, though."
Snape looked up, and said apparently annoyed, "She didn't have much choice in the matter." He looked at Harry as if to say, 'do not interrupt me with my meal again, I have a knife'. He then turned to his meal.
Harry sipped at the pumpkin juice in front of him, and then started to cut at his steak. He then said, "Professor.."
Snape set down his fork, but still held his knife, warning Harry. He snapped, "What is it now, Potter?" Harry could clearly see Snape was trying to make his face look scary. It was rather funny, actually.
He pointed to the gash on his head, and asked, "What happened here?" Snape looked at the boy. Did he not remember? What did he think he was in the Hospital Wing for?
Snape replied simply, "You fell." Harry didn't ask anymore questions at dinner.
Harry went to his room, and sat on his bed thinking. Snape probably pushed him down the stairs and whipped his memory, he concluded. Then he destroyed that theory, because Sirius did say that Snape brought him to the Hospital Wing, but Sirius didn't actually say why.. Harry decided the only way he'd find out what happened was if he talked to Snape about it, no matter how angry he got.
Harry went to look for Snape. He was in the living room reading a book. Harry knew just interrupting his reading would tick him off, but questioning him, would probably end up having Harry doing tasks for a week. "Professor.. what happened last night?"
Snape sighed aggravated, and responded with annoyance in his voice, "What do you remember of last night?" So like Snape to answer a question Harry needed answered with another question.
Harry said simply in reponse, "I came home from the Burrow, and started to go upstairs to my room. Everything went black, and then I was in the Hospital Wing." Snape moved his eyebrows as if was in deep thought, "Professor, what did happen?"
Snape responded, "I don't know, Potter. Your guess is as good as mine." He said the last bit as if he highly doubted it, but he thought that it would get Harry to leave.
Harry rocked slightly on his feet as then said, "Professor, when I was at the Weasleys, Percy was rather odd." Snape pretended to be interested in the fact that Harry thought Percy was a guilty party.
Snape said, "Oh really? Do go on." He said it almost sarcastically, but Harry did continue.
"I almost fell.." At this Snape rolled his eyes, but listened to the boy anyway, "Percy snatched my arm to make sure I didn't fall, but he wouldn't let go." Snape didn't say anything, "He seemed to be concentrating pretty hard." Harry added.
Snape lowered his book to his lap, "Potter, do you really think a Weasley would try to hurt a precious hair on your head?" Saying Weasley like it was an insult, and then Snape added, "Percy Weasley is in the Ministry, he's well-respected and-"
Harry interrupted, "So is Mr. Malfoy, and he's a Death Eater."
Snape narrowed his eyes, and said, "The day Percy Weasley's a Death Eater is the day you complete a perfect potion." He then picked up his book and started to read. Harry went to his room.
Slumping onto his bed, Harry wondered, who could he tell that would believe him? Or give him some sort of idea what could've happened? Harry then got up, and went to his desk, knowing exactly who he'd talk to. He went to the desk, taking out some parchment, a quill and inkwell. He started writing. When he was done, he read it over to himself.
Dear Hermione,
How is your summer so far? Mine is proving to be more eventful then I thought it'd be, being at Snape's Maner. His house elf is a nut, but he does treat her well. She's rather entertaining.
Yesterday I went to Ron's. Percy was rather odd. You see, I tripped, and I almost fell, but Percy snatched my arm to stabilize me. It was all fine until he wouldn't let go. He was concentrating, I think. Anyway, when I got back to the Maner, it was all dark. I was heading up to my room, so I was going up the stairs. Everything all of a sudden went black, and the next I knew I was in the Hospital Wing, Sirius at my side.
Snape told me I fell, but that's all I know. Well, that and the blood stain at the edge of the stairs, and the gash in my head. Do you have any ideas on what could've happened? Snape isn't much help for this, I don't want to write to Sirius right now, and I'd think Ron would be angry if I was accusing his brother of anything. I'd rather not open a can of worms, in case I don't know how to fish, if you know what I mean?
Anyway, I better go stare at the walls. Let life pass me by.
Love Harry
Harry stared at the walls, wondering what it'd like for them to close in, what it'd be like if they grew bigger. His eyes grew heavier, but still he stared. His emerald eyes shut, and he finally difted into a nap.
All around him, was dark. He saw red eyes, in the darkness, and he cautiously walked towards the eyes, seeing green light. There was a hiss, like a large amount of hot steam was being expelled from a pipe at high speeds. He got to a door, where the green light was coming from, through the cracks in the door. He saw some strange writing on the door, but it was too dark to see what it said, or where the door handle was. He reached for his wand and felt it wasn't there. He heard someone hiss, "Finally, Potter.. now open the door, the Dark Lord awaits." He looked up to person to see...
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The plots are written. I just need to get plots to chapters, and get chapters onto the site. Just be patient, I hadn't looked over my plots for a few months, and finally took them out, they're pretty damn good. Thank you readers for being so patient with me. I'm trying to keep a life going, while keeping a story alive, and so writing is neglected. So sorry. I know how much it bugs me when I'm reading a fic and it's taking forever for the author to write. Semester one is finally over, and so I feel less stress, and can take time to write. At least a little bit. I was thinking about this.. you see, when the summer comes, this fic will be two years old and still not completed, so I really have to get going. Expect sooner updates than five month periods.
Not to spoil anything from upcoming chapters, but I will tell you this.. someone will die..