Sorry for the….well….extremely long wait. I slowly began to hate Harry Potter and moved on to other fandoms, but I'm back now due to the massive amounts of alerts that I've been getting despite not updating in forever. This chapter may seem short, but that's probably because it is.
This story will definitely be meshing with Torchwood and Doctor Who soon, but I will try to warn you guys before it happens and try to make it readable.
Disclaimer: If I owned it, I'd own it. Yeah. But I don't.
-tsd-tsd-tsd-
Arriving at the school, Harry pondered all of the important questions of life that he had been missing out on. Questions like "why do we exist" and "what is the meaning of life" and "should I wear a tie or a bowtie with my school uniform." His internal questioning was cut off by the train stopping and a blonde, whose name was apparently Melanie, falling into his lap. Blushing furiously, she pulled away.
Ignoring her and her companions, Harry stepped out of the compartment. He felt old like he hadn't felt in ages…old enough to be his real age. As he walked, Harry wondered if he would ever finally just die. He wasn't meant to live this long, no human ever was.
Again, Harry found his train of thought disrupted, this time by Hagrid.
"Firs' years o'er here! No more than four to a boat!"
Harry clambered into a boat with Ron and a girl with oddly large teeth. Still pensive, he silently gazed at the castle until a pudgy boy that Harry felt like he should recognize sat down next to him. Drawn from his mood by sudden curiosity, Harry swiveled to face the boy as the boats began to move.
"Who're you?" Harry asked, only to be surprised as the boy shyly looked at the floor instead of talking to Harry. When he didn't answer, Harry decided to try something that he had seen performed by somebody once, though he didn't remember what the man was called. Pushing that thought from his mind, Harry concentrated and began to speak.
"Who are you? Who…are…you? You will answer. You will….OBEY ME."
The boy looked up blankly at Harry, his face even more empty than it had been a second ago.
"Neville Longbottom," the boy in a monotone voice.
Smiling and dropping his hypnosis because of the scandalized and slightly fearful look on the beaver's face, Harry decided to make the most of this life. After all, it could very well be his last.
-tsd-tsd-tsd-
And there we go. I write things, you read. Seriously though, I'm glad to be writing again, and glad to hopefully satisfy my readers a bit while I try to plan out longer chapters. This was just a little tidbit to get the creative juices going, and in order to appease the people who just seem to love story alerting me. Seriously, I get like three or four a day….and I haven't updated in months. Plus, looking at my writing, I have to admit that I'm a terrible first-draft author. I really need a beta.