AHEM thanx 2 NO ONE 4 givin me reviews...I need a review 4 chapter 2!!!!! Ah well let's hope this chapter's better. O, and BTW, whoever reads this HAS to go 2 this girl's fanfic page...OMG she's so GOOOD! (And don't u dare try 2 deny it, Savvy.) www.fanfiction.net/~strangledlies
It's so WAY better than mine. U guyz HAVE to read it!!! (after you're done reading mine, of course...)
Well...nutin else to say...so here's chapter 3!
They reached the two staircases leading up to the Slytherin and Gryffindor towers. Harry and Malfoy paused, and Malfoy whispered "Uhh...bye." He turned and walked quickly up the stairs. Harry grunted and headed up the opposite staircase. His pace quickened with each step, until he was moving surprisingly fast. He approached the large portrait of the fat lady.
"I think there's something wrong with Harry." Ron said, in the common room with Hermione. Crookshanks was curled up in front of the crackling fire, dozing without a care in the world. The common room was empty besides them; many people were still outside on the sunny grounds.
"Of course there is!" Hermione replied in a high voice. "He's acting very strange. I expected
him to be miserable after what happened, but never..."
"Never this miserable..." grumbled Ron.
"Maybe...maybe we should talk to him." Hermione suggested.
"Are you crazy? He'll go absolutely mad!"
"Well we can't just leave him like this! He needs us right now!" She argued.
Just then, footsteps sounded outside, drawing nearer and nearer. "Quick– hide!" Ron cried dramatically. Hermione gave him a critical look and stay put.
Harry stepped into the warm, golden light of the room. Crookshanks opened one eye, yawned widely, and trotted over to him. He trilled and purred invitingly.
"Hi, Harry. H-how are you?" Hermione asked nervously.
He gave her a disgusted look as Crookshanks rubbed against his leg.
"Go away." He muttered, shaking the cat off. Crookshanks meowed angrily, and stalked back over to the fire.
Harry clunked up the stairs and into the boys dormitories. Approaching his bed, he glanced at the window next to him. The shimmering light flooded in freely. He made his way over to the window, pulled the curtains closed, and then threw himself down on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes, Harry listened to the faint shouts from outside. He turned over and closed his eyes. Eventually, he slid into sleep.
He was in Professor Umbridge's office. He looked around. He was surrounded by a flood of frills and pink bows. The kittens loomed over him, meowing sweetly. Harry's gaze drifted to Professor Umbridge, who was sitting at her desk watching him. She smiled her poisoned honey smile, more dangerous than ever. He looked down at the piece of empty parchment in front of him, and the quill in his hand. Professor Umbridge shuffled some papers on her desk and went to work scribbling something down with a long, peacock blue quill.
Harry began to write. I will not tell lies. Suddenly, his hand seared with pain. Harry dropped the quill and grabbed his wrist. There were the words, carved into the back of his hand. Looking back down at the page, he saw, with horror, that the sentence was written on the page with his own shining blood. Professor Umbridge looked up, grinning smugly. "Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?" Harry quickly picked up his quill again. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies.
Harry snapped his eyes open. He sat up, panting. He glanced around the room. Several other boys were in bed now. Ripping open the curtains, he saw the navy blue sky, dotted with sparkling stars. Just a dream...just a dream...
Harry felt a presence. Something was behind him. He spun to see nothing there. One of the boys snorted in his sleep. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, breathing fast. He wiped the beads of sweat from his face, then paused. It was just a dream. But it had seemed so real! He was there again, he had felt the pain... it was almost as realistic as the dreams he had had earlier in the year, with the Department of Mysteries...when he was the snake...was Voldemort...
Harry did not sleep for the rest of the night.
It's so WAY better than mine. U guyz HAVE to read it!!! (after you're done reading mine, of course...)
Well...nutin else to say...so here's chapter 3!
They reached the two staircases leading up to the Slytherin and Gryffindor towers. Harry and Malfoy paused, and Malfoy whispered "Uhh...bye." He turned and walked quickly up the stairs. Harry grunted and headed up the opposite staircase. His pace quickened with each step, until he was moving surprisingly fast. He approached the large portrait of the fat lady.
"I think there's something wrong with Harry." Ron said, in the common room with Hermione. Crookshanks was curled up in front of the crackling fire, dozing without a care in the world. The common room was empty besides them; many people were still outside on the sunny grounds.
"Of course there is!" Hermione replied in a high voice. "He's acting very strange. I expected
him to be miserable after what happened, but never..."
"Never this miserable..." grumbled Ron.
"Maybe...maybe we should talk to him." Hermione suggested.
"Are you crazy? He'll go absolutely mad!"
"Well we can't just leave him like this! He needs us right now!" She argued.
Just then, footsteps sounded outside, drawing nearer and nearer. "Quick– hide!" Ron cried dramatically. Hermione gave him a critical look and stay put.
Harry stepped into the warm, golden light of the room. Crookshanks opened one eye, yawned widely, and trotted over to him. He trilled and purred invitingly.
"Hi, Harry. H-how are you?" Hermione asked nervously.
He gave her a disgusted look as Crookshanks rubbed against his leg.
"Go away." He muttered, shaking the cat off. Crookshanks meowed angrily, and stalked back over to the fire.
Harry clunked up the stairs and into the boys dormitories. Approaching his bed, he glanced at the window next to him. The shimmering light flooded in freely. He made his way over to the window, pulled the curtains closed, and then threw himself down on the bed. Staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes, Harry listened to the faint shouts from outside. He turned over and closed his eyes. Eventually, he slid into sleep.
He was in Professor Umbridge's office. He looked around. He was surrounded by a flood of frills and pink bows. The kittens loomed over him, meowing sweetly. Harry's gaze drifted to Professor Umbridge, who was sitting at her desk watching him. She smiled her poisoned honey smile, more dangerous than ever. He looked down at the piece of empty parchment in front of him, and the quill in his hand. Professor Umbridge shuffled some papers on her desk and went to work scribbling something down with a long, peacock blue quill.
Harry began to write. I will not tell lies. Suddenly, his hand seared with pain. Harry dropped the quill and grabbed his wrist. There were the words, carved into the back of his hand. Looking back down at the page, he saw, with horror, that the sentence was written on the page with his own shining blood. Professor Umbridge looked up, grinning smugly. "Is something wrong, Mr. Potter?" Harry quickly picked up his quill again. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies. I will not tell lies.
Harry snapped his eyes open. He sat up, panting. He glanced around the room. Several other boys were in bed now. Ripping open the curtains, he saw the navy blue sky, dotted with sparkling stars. Just a dream...just a dream...
Harry felt a presence. Something was behind him. He spun to see nothing there. One of the boys snorted in his sleep. Harry ran his fingers through his hair, breathing fast. He wiped the beads of sweat from his face, then paused. It was just a dream. But it had seemed so real! He was there again, he had felt the pain... it was almost as realistic as the dreams he had had earlier in the year, with the Department of Mysteries...when he was the snake...was Voldemort...
Harry did not sleep for the rest of the night.
