Disclaimer: Harry Potter, mine? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, that was a good one. Thanks.
Author situation: Not even this storyline is mine. This was NekoChan-Chan's fic. But she moved to New York (lucky…) and forgot about it. So now, I'm continuing it. If you don't believe me, go ahead and check her bio out. If you really don't believe me, e-mail her, but good luck getting her to respond! It took me five tries. (meow!) So…I'm re-naming it (You're a great author, but your titles…need work) and writing my own chapters while continuing her storyline. I hope I can live up to your expectations!
So, without further adieu, here is the first chapter of (the newly titled) Tripping Over Love: Not Quite Falling written by NekoChan-Chan.
Harry crossed the barrier between
platforms nine and ten at the King's Cross Station in London, and
as he did so, platform nine and three-quarters came into view.
September first, Harry's favorite day of the year, had come at
last, and his sixth year at Hogwarts had just begun. Unlike other
students, Harry preferred his time at school to his summer vacation
at number four, Privet Drive. This might have something to do with
the fact that the Dursleys' believed that making Harry miserable
might make him 'normal'. This last summer had been better than
the ones before, though, thanks to Mad-Eye Moody's 'influence'
on Harry's aunt and uncle. However, Harry was still glad that the
school year was starting again. Harry stepped aside from the entrance
to the hidden platform just in tome to see Ron Weasley cross the
barrier.
"Hiya, Harry." Ron ran his fingers through his fiery
red hair.
"Shall we, then?" The boys made their way towards
the massive train at the platform.
"Ginny'll be along in a
bit. Mum's still blubbering over her 'cause she's a prefect
this year."
"I heard. How's everyone else?"
"Percy's
still the world's biggest git, Fred 'n' George's shop's
holding up. You know, the usual." They boarded the train and found
Hermione's compartment.
"Nice seat choice, 'Mione," Ron
said sarcastically. "Weren't there any we could actually share
with the Slytherins?" Ron was referring to the fact that Draco
Malfoy and his goons were sitting in the box directly in front of
theirs.
The truth was, Harry completely agreed with what Ron said,
but hearing it said in such a callous tone of voice made him regret
it.
"It's okay, 'Mione. It's not like they'd bother us
after what we did to him the last time we were on this train." The
friends broke out in laughter at the memory of how Draco, Crabbe, and
Goyle had been 'improved' by the DA members at the end of their
fifth year.
"This was the only empty room, it's not like I had
much choice, Ron." Hermione said as she struggled to stop
laughing.
Their happy memory was interrupted then by the scowling
faces of the previously improved Slytherins. It was painfully obvious
that they knew what the Gryffindors had been laughing about, and that
they hadn't forgotten the humiliation of the situation.
"Hello
Potter. Weasley." He sneered toward Hermione. "Mudblood" he
growled through clenched teeth. His tone was exceptionally nasty,
even for him. Harry's blood began to boil. How dare he use that
term again! Hermione could see the fire in Harry's eyes, and was
about to tell him not to let it bother him, when the emerald flames
died and were replaced by steely green orbs. Harry adjusted his
glasses and glared up at Draco, wearing an expression he'd never
borne before. With ice in his voice, he said, "I wouldn't talk
about blood if I were you, Malfoy." He looked fierce, as if he was
prepared to back up those words with his fists rather than his
wand.
Everybody who'd even met a Malfoy could tell that they
were dark wizards, and Harry'd seen Lucious Malfoy at the Death
Eaters' reunion two years and had encountered him again in the
department of mysteries last year. Malfoy blood, while pure, was bad
blood.
"Is that so? Well, much as I'd love to stick around and
talk, Potter, I've got better things to do." He was clearly in a
hurry to get away from Harry, reluctant as he was to show
it.
"Bloody...What was that, Harry?" Ron asked with a
slack-jawed expression.
"Heh heh. That was a page out of
Mad-Eye's book, Ron. Very handy to know." Harry's face was back
to normal.
Ginny burst into the compartment and dropped her
trunks. She was out of breath and had clearly been running.
"Mum...portal...two seconds left..." She flopped down on the seat
next to Harry and across from Hermione.
The Hogwarts Express began
to move, and it jerked slowly forward. "Whew. Glad I made it."
Ginny looked very much relieved.
Draco smoothed back his oiled
blonde hair. For a split second, he'd been afraid. Afraid. Of
Potter!
He looked up to see Goyle staring vacantly at him. "And
what do you think you're doing, you great lump?"
Oh yes, he
would exact his revenge on Harry Potter. He'd been in Saint Mungo's
all summer recovering from those hexes Potter's fan club had used
on him. And now...now this. "Disgrace!" His father had yelled at
him. He'd suffered. And it was all Potter's fault! The one
positive thing that had come from his solitary confinement was that
he'd had plenty of time to plan. And plan he had. The golden boy of
Hogwarts was about to be tarnished.
