Yo! What's this? A new chapter three days in a row? When was the last time this happened? Thank you to all readers so far!
When Harry woke on the morning of October thirty first, he was of two minds. On one hand, it was Halloween, but on the other hand, it was fucking Halloween.
He doubted getting out of bed was even going to be worth it. Nothing good ever happened on this day, not for him, at least, no matter whether he was in the Wizarding world or not. So what was the point of even trying today? He figured he may as well skip class, stay in bed, and fantasize about his favourite king all day. That would probably be a lot more productive anyway.
That wonderfully amazing plan went right out the window when Trevor entered the room, croaking lowly.
Harry was out of bed and dressed in mere seconds, and wasted no time in leaving the Tower, praying he hadn't accidentally left anything behind. He absolutely refused to be alone in the same room as that evil, vicious toad.
When he settled down breathlessly at Gryffindor Table a few minutes later, covered in a thin sheen of sweat from his run, Hermione looked at him in curious concern. "What happened?"
"Trevor." And that was all that needed to be said.
Every single person within earshot tensed and looked around cautiously, whispering to their neighbour fearfully, even those from other Houses who happened to be walking past the Lion's table, which spread word of what was going on to the others in the Hall.
"Where is he?" one person asked in a frightened whisper.
"Is he here?"
"Is he!?"
"Nooo!"
"I wanna go home!"
"Oliver warned me this would happen!"
"This is why I wanted to go to Durmstrang!"
The professors had never seen the students so eager to get to class. The students had never seen the professors so eager to teach.
Except Snape, who moved as calmly and precisely as always. Trevor was terrified of him.
It was an incredibly frenzied and fear filled day, which, in most cases, would have been perfect today, considering it was Halloween and all. But it was Trevor, and no one wanted to risk getting on his bad side.
Oh god, the nightmares... The nightmares!
Harry was in Defence Against the Dark Arts later that day, when suddenly, his scar began to burn. Not having felt this for a while, and not having expected it, he clapped a hand over the old wound with a hiss.
Luckily, everyone else was too busy with the spells they were flinging out to notice, which gave him the chance to stumble back against the wall, close his eyes, and focus on the strange connection he had with the Dark Lord...
Voldemort was walking down a long, colourless hallway. He was alone, had his wand in hand, and was in a very good mood, even with the stupid paper airplanes that kept zooming over his head irritatingly. Nothing could go wrong. Not today. Not for him.
Reaching the end of the hall, he came to a stop in front of a large, wooden door. Raising a hand, he knocked firmly, the sound echoing throughout the hallway rather eerily.
"Come in!" a very familiar voiced called out.
Smirking, Voldemort slowly pushed the door open, revealing-
"Harry!?"
Harry's eyes snapped open, and he groaned. "Fucking cliffhangers," he muttered. Then he blinked, realizing his godfather was peering at him in concern. He looked around. The classroom was empty. Oh.
"Harry? Harry! Talk to me! What's wrong? What happened?"
The teen blinked again. "Hey, Sirius? Does the Order know anything about what Voldemort's been planning recently?"
Sirius shook his head. "Doesn't seem like anything's going on. There were rumours about a raid that was supposed to take place a few days ago, but nothing happened. Why? Did you see something?"
Harry explained, but his godfather wasn't able to shed any light on what had happened. But Harry figured it didn't really matter. If it was important, the Order would probably know about it, right? That was what the group had been created for, after all. It was literally their only job...
Everyone was in the Great Hall for the always delicious Halloween feast, when hundreds of owls streamed in, carrying the evening edition of the Daily Prophet. This wouldn't have been considered at all odd, if it weren't for the fact that, once again, everyone in the room received a copy.
That...couldn't be good, could it?
Cautious and curious, they took their copy of the paper, unrolled it, and examined the front page, at which point, a deafening silence descended upon the Hall.
'Umbridge and Fudge Dead! Lucius Malfoy New Minister of Magic!'
"...What. The. Actual. Fuck?"
Not even Snape could find fault in that statement.
Well, Voldemort did say he had major and amusing plans for Halloween, didn't he? Looking forward to reviews! Laterz!
