Harry Potter and the Staff of Slytherin
Chapter 4 – Fat Camp and OWL Results
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This chapter is dedicated to John Lennon, who recently should have celebrated his 63rd birthday. And CoolPadfoot, who has reviewed every chapter so far.
Disclaimer: I am JKR. I got bored so I wrote this.
Incase you're an idiot and didn't catch the lie – that's what it was, a lie.
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She's got eyes of the bluest skies
As if they thought of rain
I hate to look into those eyes
And see an ounce of pain
Her hair reminds me
Of a warm safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
And pray for the thunder
And the rain
To quietly pass me by
~ Guns N' Roses – Sweet Child o' Mine
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He had never seen a door open and close so fast.
Harry suspected it was something to do with the dungbombs Fred and George had left around the house.
For the last two days he had been glared at when he wasn't being ignored and no-one had uttered a word in his presence.
He couldn't decide which version of the Dursleys he preferred - loud and nasty or silent but deadly.
Another thing he had noticed was that Dudley was missing.
He dared not ask his Aunt and Uncle what had become of the chubby beast. He assumed that he was on some sort of trip, maybe Fat Camp (he had giggled at that a few times) or he was staying at a friends' house.
It was more likely that they had sent him off on some expensive holiday.
The last thing he noticed was his OWL results, lying on his windowsill.
He had walked cautiously over to the envelope, not knowing exactly what to expect. Then he realised that it didn't matter what he got.
He did want to learn as much magic as possible to be ready for later life, but getting results didn't matter. Results were for people like Hermione and Percy, who just wanted to prove how intelligent they are.
"INFERNO!"
He had shouted, pointing his finger at the envelope.
It had evaporated into a mound of dust in a millisecond, hardly even burning, in a flash of light.
There were small amounts of smoke coming off the envelope, and the windowsill wasn't damaged at all. It was as if someone had placed a small mound of ashes onto the windowsill.
He sat down on the bed, shivering at what had just occurred. He hadn't even wanted to do that. A sudden rage had come over him.
And how had he done it? That was a very powerful spell, and without a wand it was unbelievable. Plus, the intensity and speed of it was incredible.
Two days later and he was still mulling over the events and still clueless as to what and how it had happened.
This was the sort of thing he would write to Sirius about. He couldn't tell his friends about this, there would just be another thing to separate him from his peers.
He didn't feel he knew Remus Lupin well enough to talk to him about it. He didn't even think he knew him well enough to call him by his first name.
And he didn't particularly trust Dumbledore enough after his 5th year to talk about this.
No, it would be better if he kept this little incident to himself. It's not like it would happen again. Little things like this probably happened all of the time in the magical world.
No, it would just be better if he pushed it to the back of his mind and forgot about it completely. He didn't need or want any more attention at all.
Dumbledore had sent him another letter soon after telling him that he'd be coming round later to give him his OWL results again.
Apparently, they had some sort of spell on the letter which said that it had been destroyed without being read.
The letters that he had received in his first year must have had the same spell on, as they somehow knew when they had not been read.
Harry had been worrying since this letter from Dumbledore about what the Dursleys would think about him. If two things could be as far away from eachother and the complete opposite, it would be the Dursleys and Dumbledore.
Albus Dumbledore represented the exact thing that the Dursleys hated about Harry's world.
He was the stereotypical 'Freak'. And was as Freakish as one could be.
He had said in the letter that he would arrive at 4:00 pm. It was now 3:50 pm.
"Just ten minutes left," he had told himself.
He did not know what he would tell Dumbledore about what had happened to his results. He had contemplated telling him that the Dursleys had destroyed them.
But Dumbledore would surely talk to them and, as they were not out, the truth would come out.
A knock on the door startled him, breaking him from his worries.
Bugger…he thought to himself, and the worries came back doubled.
He's here already? He looked at the clock and was surprised to see that it was 4:00pm already.
"Why are you so agitated, Harry?" whispered Sirius the Linxa.
"The Headmaster is coming, he will shout at me for blowing up the results."
"Why?"
"I was not supposed to blow them up, I was supposed to read them."
"Are they not your results to blow up as you please?"
"Not really."
"Would it be better if I fixed them?"
"You can do that?"
"Of course. Linxas have natural repairing skills."
"Why the hell didn't you repair it before?"
"You didn't let me know that you were unhappy with what you did. Linxas seem to be more intelligent than humans. We only do things we want to, instead of randomly doing something and then changing our minds."
Harry glared at the Linxa but the glare soon turned to gratitude when the results were restored to their former state.
The door burst open and Harry faced a red-faced Uncle Vernon.
"There is a freak at the door. He claims that he is one of your little 'wizard' friends and would like to speak to you. We will talk about this after, Boy. You will be very very sorry for inviting one of those here." He then stormed out and Professor Dumbledore stood at Harry's door.
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Author Note:
Sorry about the long wait. My computer thought it would have some fun and crashed on me before refusing to boot up. I then had to reformat the git and rewrite this chapter.
I now have a week off from college so hopefully I'll write more than usual.
I forgot to put this in the last chapter:
The broom name that the players were using, RPM Ninja, is the name of my bowling ball, though I need a new one. I thought it would sound good as a broom – better than random colours with 'Bolt' at the end. Or Dragon-something.
By the way, I don't seem to be getting very many reviews………….
CoolPadfoot: My A/S/L is in my profile. But I am 16, Male and I live in England, unfortunately.
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