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Two Muggles And A Child
A second prophesy has been made. A second marked child must be born, a child that joins the bloodlines, Pureblood with Mudblood. "But Dumbledore, it can't be. It's James and Lily all over again" They say history repeats itself- but to what extent? Are Harry's friends doomed to the same fate as his parents?
An Agonising Hour
He wrung his hands together animatedly. “I’m sorry, I just,” his voice faltered slightly as he found himself suddenly fighting tears. He swallowed hard, taking a deep breath. “I just need to know that she’s alright.”
Against Her Better Judgement
He got just the smallest glimpse of her before it began. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, as though she’d been crying for quite some time. Her lip had a small cut towards the right hand corner and was bruised and swollen. Although their eyes met for only a moment Ron was taken aback by the fear he saw in them, and found himself frozen to the spot.
Silence fell heavily over the bedroom as soon as the door clicked shut. Both Ron and Hermione stood awkwardly just inside the doorway.
No Room For Denial
“I’m sorry but there is no more denying it. They must be told. I have learnt from experience that hiding the truth can protect no one, Molly.” There was a sadness in Dumbledore’s voice as he continued “I fear we have already concealed it from them too long.”
Stay with me
“Stay,” she whispered. The silence that filled the room was thick and oppressing. His skin burned under her touch. ‘Please, Ron. I don’t want to be alone.’ The raw desperation in her eyes, her need for him was dizzying.
Pureblood With Mudblood
“You’re telling me that Trelawney made a prophesy,” Ron asked sitting back in his chair opposite Dumbledore, between Harry and Hermione, not quite believing what he was hearing “and that everyone is taking it seriously?” He laughed slightly “That woman wouldn’t see the knight bus if it was heading straight for her!”
Nothing at all
Locked away in the second floor drawing room she had heard the door to the bedroom above close, heard their footsteps as they descended the stairs. Soon they would know, soon her attempt to shield them from it would be over.
The Reformed Sinner
"Master, there is only so much I can do, his suspicions are already raised, it is a matter of time..." "You are fogetting," Voldemort interrupted "Dumbledore's biggest weakness. The old fool is a romantic, and Severus there is nothing more romantic than a reformed sinner."
Lock Yourself Away
Harry had no idea what the time was, or how long he’d been sitting in the window seat of Mrs Black’s bedroom, staring out at the rain. ‘It’s strange,’ he noted ‘that the weather seemed to have the ability to reflect what a person felt. He had watched the sky become progressively more grey and overcast as the afternoon had worn on, and as the first few droplets hit the window pane deafly he’d felt a sense of release.
What Good Will It Do?
The elaborate grandfather clock beside her marked the passage of time. ‘Time,’ she thought, once, when she was still young, it had seemed so unending. Now it seemed as though each moment that passed was another moment that slipped through her fingers. She couldn’t tell if it was her age, for she could not deny that she was getting no younger, or if it was the war. Everyone felt it; people were living differently, living as though every day may be their last.
Just Messing Around
“Hermione,” Charlie said smiling kindly “Can I have a word with Ron for a moment please?” She did not need asking twice, instead she practically ran for the door, her curly brown hair billowing behind her. He turned back to Charlie suddenly very annoyed. “It’s not what it looks like,” he said shortly. “It’s exactly what it looks like, Ron!”
What I think It Means
The atmosphere on platform 9 3/4’s this year was more subdued than Harry had ever seen. By the time they had all gathered beside the Hogwarts express it was six minutes to eleven, and the platform was near deserted. Very few people it would seem had chosen to return to the school this year.
The New Format
“There you are!” Hermione exclaimed almost angrily, rolling her eyes skyward in exasperation as Harry took a seat next to she and Ron at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Ron exclaimed his tone of voice no less accusatory than Hermione’s. “What’s this about you being dead?”
She lifted her head from his chest and caught his eye for a moment. She could see his need for her; could see the battle he was waging with his hormones; raging beneath the surface of his heavily lidded eyes
He rolled onto his side and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to force the scene from his thoughts; trying to push them away for his sanity’s sake. But he couldn’t seem to let go, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to. He’d never sleep tonight.
Understand The Magnitude
She heard the voices before she even reached the doorway. “But father…” She recognised the voice instantly and her ears prickled as she strained to hear what he was saying. She quickened her pace, rising onto her toes to mask the sounds of her footsteps against the cold stone floor. “It’s a direct order. It’s quite simple, you do it, or you will die.”
Twas the Night Before Christmas
“We’ve spent the last six months dancing around how we feel because of something that might happen tomorrow,” she began softly, a tear rolling down her cheek. Silently he reached up and brushed it away, she turned to meet his eyes. “The thing is Ron, this is a war, and any of us might not make it till tomorrow.”
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